One Thing I have desired of the LORD, That will I seek: That I may dwell in the house of the LORD All the days of my life, To Behold the beauty of the LORD, And to inquire in His temple. Psalm 27:4
Showing posts with label ava. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ava. Show all posts
Monday, January 23, 2012
I am a REAL Bunny ...and so is she...
Oh, little Velveteen Rabbit...its not like I'm mad at you or anything...but...living your story is heavy sometimes...I don't want another one...I'm just saying,
"Ouch, it HURTs to be a bunny."
And I hope I do not offend you when I let you know that I have decided that I am not going to take your definition any more as a statement for my life as an adoptive mommy.
Did you not say,
"Real isn't how you are Made, It is a thing that happens to you."?????
There, I SAID it.
I AIN'T REAL cause of my difficult circumstances
or in the moment that the beloved child whispers it in my ear.
What "happens" to me does not make me.
I am not a product of the days events --be they pleasant or hard, or of my thoughts and expectations, or of fleeting feelings from one day to the next.
I am not what the other "bunnies" say I am
or who I am in those little eyes...
Or What I sometimes see when I look in the mirror on an especially hard day...
You didn't get it completely ,Velveteen Rabbit---although I just love you so...
Cause I find my Wisdom in another book...in another story...of a young, perfect KING who came from a far off heavenly land...He left His Father's house...to come and find this ole bunny...to find me in the garden...all dishelved and burnt on the rubbish heap...He found me in my helpless failings...and while I was quite lifeless and stuffed with sawdust and other junk...
He stooped down to make me REAL..
to BREATHE REAL Life into me
and He tells me...He has begun to show me that...
Oh, His promises are much GREATER than those nursery promises little rabbit...
I am alive, I am REAL because of ONE who burns with Life and Hope on my insides.
I am a REAL Bunny.
And here is a secret my gentle little friend,
Your story does not end with becoming a real bunny.
REAL BUNNYS Hurt.
And there is a Bunny Shepherd who has ointment for our wounds.
Now you will know thirst and hunger...
But there is the gardener in the midst of the bunnies who IS the living water AND the Bread that brings life...
You will have an awareness of dangers...you will have to be a little warrior
but He will cover you with His great big shield, and under it you will find security and victory.
for Real Bunnies still have fire to go through...beyond the bonfire of the toy pile...
But it is REFINING fire.
And it really is O.K.
For once this type of grooming session is over, and I have been through so many lately little rabbit,
You will find that "toy fur" burnt off to reveal...not a Real "me" but "Christ IN me...the HOPE of Glory".
Behold, the new WILL come, little bunny...
My Story
O.K....Here is my very real story from last week. I want you to to have this view so that you may know a bit more how to love and support adoptive moms. Perhaps know how to more fully love an adoptive child? And if you are "stuck" in suffering...that Jesus is your answer to. There IS hope for you, my friend..
First, the REAL High
We hit the highs and the lows here at the Tucker house last week. We celebrated an 11th birthday, my husband experienced a wonderful first week of continued training for ministry, and my children all had an unusual blessing of encountering God at school all week in their assembly times...God was especially present and visited the kids with much power and joy...true revival broke out this week among the students. The joyful worship rocked their building and broke out of the assembly time so that for three days, the schedule of classes were pushed back as the kids experience the fresh presence of God in Worship,prayer, and in God's movement on them in restoration and in healings. More, Lord! I love that He broke this out among children--it has been so powerful!!
There were kids that were delivered of self-hatred. There were kids that wept over love for God. There was prayer for our city, prayer for our nation. Adoration, Worship. They prayed over each other for hours. Joy came. So did travailing prayer. These kids have been crying out for God to visit them. He came.
[Our Ashley and friends this week]
This is what "revival" looks like. and He started with the children--how like Jesus who put children before Him and instructed us to look like them!
Genuine revival has Christ walking within it. "The Hope of Glory" changes our lives...He truly does. The kids all of them--carried this home and our home was been so full of the tenderness of the Holy Spirit's love. It was one of those weeks, so full of glory that it takes your breath away...
To add, the children's school was not the only place where God was blessing His people in this way last week. As Richard came home from his Bible classes and from the prayer room at International House of Prayer the SAME wave of God's presence and love was moving in his classes and in the prayer room. All classes were cancelled so that they could just move into a solemn assembly and worshiped with expectancy.
There was MUCH JOY on the mission's base. Healing was a part of God's strong presence in our midst. Richard was blessed with actually seeing God's power move in love in this way. On Saturday, Richard was ministering at our Saturday service. He was laying hands on and praying for anyone who had a need. There was a man who had a condition with his hands that he had had for over ten years, it made his hands gnarled and curled up with pain. As Richard prayed for him, the man's hands began to straighten! The two men joyfully continued on asking for Jesus' healing until Richard watched the man's hands relax and straighten. It was powerful~ the man felt so loved~ and this was only one of the miracles that swirled around us this weekend!
In the Midst of the Garden...
With all this beauty...that we have asked for, fasted for...pressed into God in prayer for...and as we saw it breaking out....you would think we would have been immune from any pain or trial last week.
NOPE
It made me a TARGET for attack...and since our enemy is not fair and is a MEAN BULLY he targeted my adoptive mother's heart and my little bunny, Ava.
You see, if Jesus was breaking out...if so many kids were getting delivered and this is truly what Mama Gillian has been declaring with much strength lately...then a surprise attack...could it knock her down so that she and Ava might not receive the promise of healing all around them?...
Nothing happens to me that does not pass through my loving Father's hands.
and like I said above, my circumstances do NOT determine who I am or what my destiny is. But OH, this does not take the pain away as you walk through the fire...
Thursday could not have been sweeter...Anderson made sure all the other siblings felt included in his celebrations and it was Ava who got to share about her brother who tickles her and makes her feel "all loved and tickley" we laughed and played and ate too much cake...and after the party there were snuggles for little girls and a book read by an older sister and a special connection at Bible time and singing that blessed us all...
Kids were excused to get on jammies before one last game before bed...and as our little happy bunny went downstairs...
A serpent was waiting...
and a lie was hissed in her ear...
It may have been something like,
"Are you REALLY part of this loving family?"
"Is this REAL?"
"Come on, are you a REAL Bunny? Who do you think you are?"
And my little bunny looked down at something that she considered to be shabby...and then she tore up her little girlie room.
I was setting up the game, that is one of my little bunny's favorites, and as she entered the room she declared in a really loud, kind of overly cheerful way,
"OH, I HAVE IT ALL FIGURED OUT."
"YOU'RE NOT MY REAL MOM!"
she turns to the other adoptive child in my home who had just had SUCH a normal, great day...and birthday days can be a trigger for him so this was a huge victory for him and that tongue that lied to her now lied to him,
"MOM IS OUR SECOND MOM. SHE IS NOT REAL"
... and words, what are they?
They could have been passed for childish expression until..
They continued and continued for the rest of the night...
until...I went down to get something for my bunny and I saw the ripped up bunny's nest downstairs in her room.
A firey dart tried to find its way into my Mother's heart...this is familiar war ground...
familiar battle over the identity of this little soul, and who she is
familiar battle over who I am as her mother...
and all I could say, inside my heart in that moment was,
ouch. OUCH! OUCH!!!!!
I tucked my bunny in bed with many kisses and prayed fervent, silent prayers in the only name that has true power, Jesus' name over her.
Sword, Shield...Engarde!!
Oh it's ON, serpent. This mama bunny is a warrior bunny!!
And yet, the words picked on me as I went about my chores..I carried them into prayer ..and they bothered me through the night..
Friday morning is a work morning for me at my children's school. I LOVE my job! I am the school's librarian. I joke with my husband that I'm the fun kind of Librarian not the bun kind!!
Friday, my bunny and I spent the morning getting the house in order and then driving to work. All morning long I was followed literally around by my bunny who repeated over and over that I was not REAL and that our family was not REAL. I am not exaggerating that EVERY word that came out of my little girl's mouth was on this subject of REAL. It was wild and I was acutely aware I was under attack and that so was my little bunny. I tried leading her into a loving conversation about her birth mom , tried to trace her story with her...but none of this satisfied. hiss,hiss,hiss....it was continuous in her ears that morning...poor little bunny...and all the language was a searing wound in my heart...
I cannot express how intense some of these times are with our adoptive children as they wrestle and rework the puzzle of who they are.
..the problem arises when not all the puzzle pieces can be found...then what???
And the question of this morning was, "am I REAL?"
"am I REALLY in a forever family?"
am I REALLY a blood daughter, loved like all the rest in this nest?"
...And the question intended for me was,
"Has everything you have poured into this child...
...all the "hair falling off" REALLY MADE ANY DIFFERENCE?..
ALL those times you served and laid it all down...
ALL those prayers...
all the trust you believed to be building up...where is that now???
...Listen, here she is declaring right now that
'any mother could be her mother after all'
and that
'maybe we should get some more moms for our family, or another mommy for us wouldn't that be better?'.
and' living here is o.k. but...'
..Have you REALLY become her mother?"
The language and the questions continued...but as I turned off the car in the parking lot of school, something turned on inside of me. It was a declaration.
"This is attack and for Ava's sake and mine I am going to make a stand. I am going to RESIST this until it flees from her and from me today. There is a victory coming for this little girl. I'm not backing away. I see this for what it is, attack. I'll stand and wait for deliverance." Sometimes, as the Word says, all we can do is "stand"...
It wasn't over yet
As we walked into the building and talked to a lovely friend at the sign in desk I felt nauseous. My stormy day did not seem to "fit" with the revival that was going on in the building...or maybe it was perfectly fitting!!...it was 11a.m. and I still heard the vibrations of worship from the teenagers coming through the walls next to the auditorium as I made my way to our little library...
As I turned on the light and started to re shelve books I felt overstimulated among all the books...
One of the administrators, who I love, suggested I display the books that day in a way that would draw the children's eye more. I started turning the faces of the book covers around to greet and face the children...while I worked...my bunny was at my side...the subject was the same one as the rest of the morning.
Wow, was this truly going to last ALL day?
A lady popped her head in the library and greeted us. The distraction was wonderful! As I shelved, we visited a little...
"How are you?""
I wanted to shout, I"M TERRIBLE!! and scream and tell her that I feel like the WALKING WOUNDED...don't you see my head wound? Can't you SEE it?...but I was held back...and this was good for...
You would not believe the next question that came out of this well-meaning mouth...I don't fault her...like Peter, we can say glorious mysteries that are right on in one minute and then in the next , if not dialed in and listening to God's voice ...out of that same mouth...we can say words tailored by the enemy...
"Hey, I've been meaning to ask you,
How many REAL kids do you have?"
Oh no, you didn't!!
Oh, yes, she did.
It was that kind of a moment.
It was that kind of a day...and this was the PERFECT fire for my heart.
"Well," I looked down at the books in my hands, and then over at my bunny,
"I have SIX REAL KIDS, right, Ava honey?"
Ava came over and clung on my leg.
{People,people... please NEVER ask this question to an adoptive mom and especially in front of her child!!}
But I knew why I was getting the question...and I was going to keep standing until I saw Jesus step in and bring HIS message to my little girlie and my heart that day.
We dove into our little project and then had the LOVELY distraction of six classes worth of students coming through the room. Ava played mommy to her dollies and pretended at my feet and looked through books and hugged sweet children who I helped to match with books. Its a great job! I took it because I believe that finding the right book is all about blessing that child's uniqueness and identity. I have prayed that the children who find their way into the library will also be blessed by love's presence through Jesus' simple love through me and that they may walk out confirmed of their beauty as hearts are revealed as they choose their books...
That the Librarian and her child were needing confirmation this day was and unexpected turn of events among the collection of books..
As one group of students went out, the books needed refreshing...more needed to be pulled out and displayed..and I was handed this returned book...that had just made its way back to needing to be reshelved.
It was the Velveteen Rabbit.
The more I live in Christ, the more I find that He, the most beautiful of authors, writes my life in just this way.
"Hello, sweet Jesus, this is from you." my heart prayed.
It was a beautiful edition of a well-loved classic that I have read over and over and mulled over through my years. Recently I have found that not only I but my adopted children as well identify with this little rabbit...
I had just a moment to "pet" the beautiful pages of the book ~ if you love to read you know of which I speak! ~ and then I propped it open to the page of the little bunny, REAL and dancing all among the other real bunnies.
"In your name, Jesus, this is who I am in you. This is who she IS in YOU. We are REAL in you. YOU are my REAL."
Our last group of students came into the library, it was one of my favorite classes--my son Bruik is among them and I have watched and love them grow for a while now. One of my FAVORITE children in the class is a precious little girl who is full of life and glory. She is FUNNY, she is WITTY, she is so loving and has a real gift for connecting to God's heart and understanding His ways. She butts heads with my little Bruik half the time and the other half of the time squeeze hugs him with love. She is a blessed special needs girl who is wiser and more spectacular than most girls you'll meet. and, oh, yes...she's also been adopted...and is SUCH a blessing to her astounded mom who comes to me with precious stories of this incredible creation--I JUST LOVE HER.
So this little girl is trying to pick out a book and this day she is having a BEAR of a time finding JUST the right one. "Do you have any mysteries, Mrs. Tucker?...no thanks don't want a mystery...oh,oh,oh!! I KNOW what I want."..and the choices went kind of on and on that afternoon...until the check out computer is about to be shut down and this little one is the last child along with me among the shelves. She was the LAST student.
She slowed. She stopped....right in front of the Velveteen Rabbit book...
I don't really know why I did it but my hand came in front of the book--almost guarding it from her view...
I did't want to have this conversation. Today. Right then. With her. Precious her.
What about THIS book?
I heard myself talking in that falsetto adult voice, "OH, this is a GREAT book, honey." Smile. I felt uncomfortable. I half lied. "Its a story of a toy bunny that becomes, REAL."
She looked up at me through her little glasses. "HMMMNnnnn."
She's thinking.
I'm nailed.
"Isn't there something about a sick boooooy in here? and some tooooys?"
"Ah, Hem...Yes."
She looked like she was grasping for something lost...
"OOOOooooh...Mommy read this book to me" She looks like she is searching....for something forgotten...for something that may not be so pleasant..."
"Tell me about the fire, Mrs. Tucker"
She looked up at me as if to say, 'Don't lie to me, Mrs. Tucker. They burned that bunny. Tell me the Truth Mrs. Tucker."
She was waiting on me for an answer about the broken bunnies. And, Lord, I don't want to give her that answer....she's not the broken one anyhow in this moment...I am!...
And in that moment, we looked down to see the page that she had turned to in the beautiful old book. It was blue, and at the center of the illustration was a gorgeous fairy and dancing bunnies all around her.
"OH! I remember! There's an angel!!, " she sighed and smiled BIG..."Tell me about the ANGEL, Mrs. Tucker."
"Oh, yes." She smiled. "That's what I remember."
She picked up the book and hugged it to herself. Then, "I won't be needing this." She set it back gently on the shelf, and turned to land on her final decision... after several other final decisions...she plucked up a fluff bit of book called,"Pinky Dinky Doo" and I totally laughed out loud and sailed a goodbye toward her as she bounded out of the room to check it out. :)
Later, after my shift at school and piano lessons that fill my home with the reminder of what is glory...I was still feeling tattered...
like a big ole bunny...
But settled and at rest. Ready to continue to press in to being a REAL mom to all of my REAL children. I was deciding on dinner as well as deciding to keep standing on Truth even though I had not seen it in my parenting of that day...when I heard another little person sit down at the piano...and worship sounds started coming from the piano... REAL joyful noise, the kind that God mentions and asks for in the Psalms...
And my family is my witness that I actually heard my little bunny turn not only into a REAL bunny but metamorphosis into a SONGBIRD.
Now, worship and speaking out Truth is a gift from God that He will bring on this little one in certain sweet times, and had I subcombed to the attack and fought with HER instead of the lies...we might have missed out on this GLORIOUS moment...really...our warfare is THAT REAL.
Little Ava's hands were making BEAUTIFUL sounds on the piano
Chords...musical progressions...melodic notes...REAL melody...
Richard and I gathered in the kitchen, catching each other's eyes, "Are you HEARING THIS?"
And then this clear little voice started singing...the bunny is a songbird!!
"OOOOHhhh, Jesus...I just Looove you...
You made me on purpose. And everything you make is REALLLLLly Goood.
I want to be with you every day. You are the hero and I want to be with you every day.
We NEED you, come to us, Jesus!
We NEED you.
Come to US.
Oh, there's worship and there's the pain! ...and I'm growing...I'm GROWING UP LIKE A DAISY (the meaning of her African name we gave her, Aday)
Yeah, I'm growing up like a DAISY in the house of the Lord.
We NEED YOU, Jesus!
Come to us..."
She sang and sang and we cried and Richard put his head down on the counter in the kitchen and shook with laughter that is the surprised kind that comes when God just puts his glorious foot down in your midst.
Oh, don't ever stop! my Heart cried out! You are worth the "stand"
And then we heard,
"Fill our house with angels God...you are fillin' it Right now...I feel you comin' to us...just fillin' our house UP with your angels...We NEED you Jesus...We worship you..."
Who's the Mommy? Who's the REAL Daddy? He showed up in that moment. Who are we REALly? This turns out to be the WRONG QUESTION. So take that, enemy!!
The question that sets us FREE was asked 2 millennial years ago by Jesus, the King of all broken hearts and the Shepherd of all "bunnies and songbirds"
...the question is, "Who do you say that I am?" and when we get this before us...and find our identity in Him...when we lose ourself in THIS fire...we raise up out of that pire with power, life, and REAL joy in knowing that He who is IN us IS our HOPE of GLORY.
He is enough. He is THE solution for each of us. Because HE is REAL, I live.
Because HE lives there is INCREDIBLE HOPE for my children. ~ All six of my REAL kids!
Love, Gillian
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Friday, September 17, 2010
" 'An He Came to Me"
WHY PRAY?
A true story from our week...
Yesterday we were driving to soccer practice for our two six year old "twins", Jack and Bruik when 4 year old Ava told us this...
"Mommy, it was dark last night and I was crying in my room."
You were crying? Oh, Ava I'm sorry. Why didn't you come and get me?
"I did somethin else Mommy. I got outa my bed and I got on my knees on the floor and I cried out to God.
An I got back in bed.
An I was still crying.
An Jesus came to my room.
He came to me.
An He said, 'Ava, why are you crying?'
An He had yellow on Him.
An He held my hand and we went into your room to check on you.
An Jesus was very bright."
Praises today to the God who sees us, hears our cries, and who comes to us!!
Psalm 34a
I will extol the Lord at all times;
his praise will always be on my lips.
My soul will boast in the Lord;
let the afflicted hear and rejoice.
Glorify the Lord with me;
let us exalt his name together.
I sought the Lord, and he answered me;
he delivered me from all my fears.
Those who look to him are radiant;
their faces are never covered with shame.
This poor man called, and the Lord heard him;
he saved him out of all his troubles.
The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear him,
and he delivers them.
Taste and see that the Lord is good;
blessed is the man who takes refuge in him.
Fear the Lord, you his saints,
for those who fear him lack nothing.
The lions may grow weak and hungry,
but those who seek the Lord lack no good thing.
Come, my children, listen to me;
I will teach you the fear of the Lord.
Whoever of you loves life
and desires to see many good days,
keep your tongue from evil
and your lips from speaking lies.
Turn from evil and do good;
seek peace and pursue it.
The eyes of the Lord are on the righteous
and his ears are attentive to their cry;
the face of the Lord is against those who do evil,
to cut off the memory of them from the earth.
The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears them;
he delivers them from all their troubles.
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted
and saves those who are crushed in spirit.
A righteous man may have many troubles,
but the Lord delivers him from them all;
he protects all his bones,
not one of them will be broken.
Evil will slay the wicked;
the foes of the righteous will be condemned.
The Lord redeems his servants;
no one will be condemned who takes refuge in him.
Blessings,
Gillian
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Springtime Nestyness


Spring has sprung!! This morning as I was emptying the dishwasher for the first of many times today ;) I heard a rustling sound in my garage--as I opened the door i found a little sparrow busying herself in my camping equipment box with bits of fluff, mud, and grass--getting ready for a springtime blessings. I can't wait to see her babies! I'm doing my own rustling around here. Mama bird, you're not alone!! And thus are the inspiration for the egg in the nest on our painted shirts....and got out the sewing machine to sew little dresses (we'll show and tell that later!)...whipping up cookies and are having lemonade sales...just living and playing out of doors...laying in the pool of sun on our trampoline...singing our hearts out and writing new songs...cooking lighter and with more bright veggies...checking all the garden beds for signs of my little friends in there--checking for tender green signs of life...you know, its SPRING!!

What is it about the seasons--how a simple change of light and breeze can lift the spirits so. Perhaps that we are made for light, made in love by the one who IS LOVE to respond to new life--always searching for what IS Light, what IS Life...we resonate with renewal--life springing forth after a cold season in which growth was slow and hidden--in which all that once was alive and green had folded up and fallen away... dry branches the only evidence of former life... wrapped in shades of quiet grey . Made in this way so we so naturally would "get" the unfolding story of the renewal and restoration that He made at the cross for us.



"Spring" actually began a bit early for the Tuckers this year and we have lots of praise reports to share--up coming this week. Just living and experiencing the reality of the newness that comes as we press into Jesus. (so available in any season of our lives!) "Behold I am creating something new, can you not perceive it?"
We look forward to sharing alot of JOY with you this week!
Enjoy the sunshine, everyone, AND especially delight in the ONE who made it all out there!!
Love, Gillian
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Daisy, Daisy, Ava Aday -- We love you!
We picked this cheery flower for you today :).
It is the Aday flower--
the Ethiopian version of the American Daisy.
Aday flowers grow on the high plains of Ethiopia in April--
the month we went to pick up our precious children.
I have shared recently about how we "picked" out--
rather,
how God picked out
Bruik's name.
Ava's name story is just as special.
Often as we prayed for Ava and gazed at her referral photo in the months between our referral and when we traveled, I would talk with God about a name for her.
Over and over my heart was impressed that our family needed the delicacy and tender beauty of this fragile "flower" before me in our little photo.
We desired much out of a name!! For both children, we wanted to have a name that reflected their unique identity--what kind of a gift they were from God, a family name from our heritage, and an Ethiopian name to celebrate their beautiful culture and heritage.
Ava's original Ethiopian name meant "one who cries out loudly" and while that makes me smile now cause she really IS a loud one :)--this name was not going to do for it was given by her nannies at the orphanage and was related to how she was found on the streets of Addis Ababa.
Instead, she was named, Ava, meaning, "Breath of Life", and she would share my middle name, Leigh--NOW for the ET. name,--not just any name would do,--I searched high and low for Ethiopian flower names and found the beautiful flower above--a tiny yellow daisy that blooms only in the month we were to pick her up and bring her into our arms--perfect!
Ava Aday-Leigh... so many international children could use some extra spaces on name forms, right, adoptive parents?
But here's where our story takes on the fingerprints of God...
What a JOY it was to meet our little Aday flower--she was as beautiful and bright and tender as a little wildflower for sure.
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As we brought Bruik and Ava onto the plane--into all the newness of a first sight of a plane, first ride on an elevator, first experience in close spaces with so many pale faces :),first tastes, sights, smells...the children did remarkably well. They joyfully bounced up and down in their seats as Bruik sang this specific song we assumed from the orphanage over and over. Over and over he sang to Ava to make her smile and to calm her down. The song worked every time and went something like,
"Aw wah et
Lah Lem" (repeat)
Throughout our first year, whenever the children needed a special connection --they would speak toddler speak in Amharic (their language) and jump up and down Ethiopian-style and sing this happy little song. Its a song that can go on and on but that remains sounding really sweet--especially watching the sweet bond --Bruik protecting and enjoying--and Ava trusting and giggling.

About a year and a half later, on my birthday, we went to our favorite Ethiopian restaurant in town, Abay. We had become friends with the manager and on occasion had tried singing this little song to him to find out what it was. It never registered--we thought it was something cute the children had made up or a toddlerized version of another song.
On this night, however, a new waitress came to our table and after some conversation we asked this young Ethiopian girl if we could sing her our little song. She laughed, we attempted and pretty much embarrassed ourselves in front of a roomful of Ethiopian nationals enjoying their dinners. BUT our new friend's eyes immediately lit up and she began to sing WITH us--she filled in all the gaps of our little song with Amharic words and song. We stopped singing and listened to the completion of what we had only heard in snippets. It was a gorgeous song!
"OOOOOHHHH..." she smiled at us
"That is the song that little Ethiopian girls sing. Each year they sing this song as they go from house to house bringing flowers at our new year. They first go out into the fields and pick ADAY flowers and then they carry them from house to house singing this song about the ADAY flower."
I jumped up and down and clapped my hands in delight--I must have looked like my little children in their joy as they sung this song so often!
The song Bruik had been singing to comfort Ava all those months was HER NAME!!
What confirmation for us that God had chosen that name (and I thought I was being so clever/creative when I first found it :)-ha!)
As we tend to and delight in the Aday flower in the colorful array of our family bouquet we are so humbled to see that it was truly God's hand that reached out and picked her for us.

God's hands are always busy tending to what He loves most. The orphaned, the lost, the wounded, the lonely, those in distress, the widowed, the forgotten... I just am thrilled to hear stories like this one ALL THE TIME from those who are choosing to walk in places alongside of those who particularly touch His heart. We currently are experiencing stories like this one almost every day with our new foster children. Just storing them up--one day perhaps we'll have the permission to share them--until then (keep praying us along please!!) we live so amazed at the power and LOVE of a loving FATHER God who is ALL about transformation -- hope and a future for each of our lives.
Blessings!
Gillian

American Black-Eyed Susan Flowers
P.S. A Shout out to the REDINGTON family--see their link on the side of my blog to their blog "Journey of Hope". They have JUST brought their little girl, Wylie, home to her forever family!! They have gone through fire to bring her home--this is a day of rejoicing!! We celebrate with you, dear Redingtons!!
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Friday, April 24, 2009
Twinkle Winklie Video
Happy Friday!! Just sending a little smile your way today. Ava's rendition of twinkle twinkle always makes us smile. She can make her way all the way through the song and actually is a little song writer too now, but thought we'd send out a lil joy today!
You may need to mute my music at the bottom of the page (before you press play above) to make this work...
Love, Gillian
Thursday, April 9, 2009
His Bundle on my Back--From my Ethiopian Journal

"He takes care of his flock like a shepherd.
He gathers the lambs in his arms.
He carries them close to his heart.
He gently leads those that have little ones. " (Isaiah 40:11)
African women carry their babies within long fabric pieces on their back. Like these children, as a child of God, since I was five, I have been securely wrapped up within the love of incredible Father God. First He saved me and simply asked me to love Him and to love others. To walk out my life as He did. He named this love, "adoption", as He wrapped me close to His heart. In time and by degree, He lovingly secured a bundle to my back as well. It is so much smaller but looks like the one my Father carries. I love to walk through His world with Him. Within this bundle He has placed Adoption , Rescue, Care for the Orphan--the desire to give place to the lonely--to set them in families--love for His hurting world. This, He has lovingly has wrapped to my back since I was a tiny girl. He has so much more to fit into my bundle. I gaze in there and marvel and wonder at its beauty -- the honor of carrying a likeness to my Father. Other times it has been very heavy to carry. But then, the gold of His Kingdom can be weighty.
I hope you can see her. She is my heart for adoption, for adoption in Ethiopia. A beautiful African woman stands with dignity under a brilliant, cobalt sky. She is dressed in humble garments and is wrapped in a long piece of colorful fabric. With skillful ease, she bends over gracefully to take the ends of the fabric. Seamlessly, she wraps the fabric over a baby on her back or front until the baby has the cosiest of perches to view the market before them. They walk down dusty streets, past baskets of food on blankets, among begging people with gentle eyes and past the man with withered polio legs dragging his torso to the injera stall (Ethiopian bread). Her baby blinks at the sun and is covered with a light shawl. She jostles to sleep, secured on her Mother's back. On they go through the aroma of Ethiopian "Boona"--the most delicious coffee you could ever imagine, around a young goatherd, coaxing his goats through the crowded, bustling market streets. Lilting music plays out of shanty-type one-room buildings covered in tin roofs lining the street, making up the market's stalls --this is the the vast "Merkato".
Her beauty belies the secret of her heart, greyer than the afternoon storm clouds that sweep across Addis Ababa each day at this time. The German medical lab has given her grave news. She is not the first of her family to receive such news--in fact she has watched all of her family members perish after similar reports. Some lived several years--others just weeks. Their arms--asleep in quiet graves--unable to help her. Unable to come to her aid. And no arms to receive her precious Rekeb. Rekeb, full of life and energy with the cry so loud and lively her Mama's name's meaning fits her well, "one who cries out". In different times there were many loving arms to soothe Rekeb's cries. She would have been passed around to bring Joy to every heart. In this land, there is no original word for "orphan" for children are the treasure of their family circles. Rekeb stirs in her cosy sleep, soon she will want to nurse. Who will feed her? Who will hold her? Will she live? Oh, God, help her, see my child. Let her live...
The mother reaches her destination, the outer wall of the local Orthodox church. She can hear the sound of singing. The daily services must not yet be over. She has heard this is a good place. Surely they will hear her. Will they? Or will the wild dogs who run the streets find her first? She shivers. She unwraps her incredible bundle and ...we do not watch the most private and excruciating of moments between a loving mother and child.
With the greatest of care she finds a gap under the wall and makes a bed of colorful fabric for her little one. Rekeb. Will she live? She stays, until Rekab's cries draw a crowd of street children. They pick her up. One older girl wraps her on her back ,in the colorful fabric. They speak of an orphanage not far away. A good place. She will live...
Across the world, my bundle comes to life! It is full, pregnant with a referral of two babies!! I sense the loving arms that brought these children to my Father even as I see their photos on my computer screen for the first moment and I love them even as love swells for these precious babies. Big brown eyes stare sadly at me from the first photo I open. It is a little boy, he is 2 years old. His parents are deceased. As we have nested we did what many parents do and have looked at Ethiopian name lists. We decided quickly and firmly months back upon the name, Bruik, meaning, "gift of God." I wrestle my eyes off of his photo to glean my first bit of information of my new son. And as I scroll down, I gasp and cry,shout and jump up and down--in Joy-- African woman-style!! His name, before me on the screen is...Bruik. Oh, my little son. Placed "on my back" and in my heart since I was a little girl...
The next image is a tiny little baby girl. Her velvet brown legs and arms are so thin they make me ache--with a mother's longing to tend and to nurture. Her cheeks are so kissable -- I can't stand it. Little...Rekab. Captivator of my heart---so dear to another that she was brought to my arms... I stumble around for weeks--dizzy with love and the closeness of the Father--soaring, sometimes staggering under the glory's weight.
Soon we are on a plane, watching a tiny electric airplane model on a map on the screen fly increasingly quickly away from my land. My daily world shrinks away...I turn toward the land of my new children.
There is no sleep for me, I toss in our hotel bed--tomorrow--we'll meet them tomorrow!! It is like the night before I was married--full of mystery, hope, and elation. My mind jumping to the future and savouring the present all at once.
I rearrange baby bibs and formula and tiny outfits and shoes. I pray and thank my Father. I lay out my" bundle" before me and tenderly consider it. Excited to further fill it tomorrow as we love on the orphans we meet and greet our babies for the first time.
On the following day we pile into a bright blue and white van and bump through the streets. We pull up to a walled orphanage and my stomach leaps, "Kids Care Orphanage" says the painted metal gate.
Bruik awaits us, dressed in a crisp oxford shirt and little blue sweat pants. We gently touch and hug. He smiles brightly and jumps into His Daddy's arms. Richard swings him up onto 6 foot 5 shoulders and Bruik looks triumphantly down at his new family.
Rekeb is waiting for us in a walker in the baby room. Her nannies say to me with laughing eyes, "you must pick out your baby now". Oh, no! I know the baby girl which I believe is mine...but she is the loveliest of all the babies in their white metal cribs--what if I am wrong and she is another? The joke is on me--I have hesitated too long. A nanny reaches down to the beautiful baby in the walker and secures her in my arms. I breathe her in. We sway to the musical sound of children's voices and Amharic speech. A first dance...
We drive away from the chorus of children but they remain still in our "bundles". How God presses them on our hearts.
We rename our Rekeb, Ava Aday, meaning, "breath of life, precious flower." She will live. Our Father.our Savior, has promised "life abundant" for her. And as we carry our children close to our hearts and walk through their lovely people, taking in their beautiful land,filled with pain, awe, and joy, we sense our Father, securing our bundles, walking beside us, sharing His heart with us...
Love, Gillian
Labels:
adoption story,
ava,
bruik,
Ethiopia,
God's Presence,
photos,
provision,
verses,
Word
Saturday, March 28, 2009
From my Ethiopian Journal -- Behind the Blue Gate



Bruik at 2 years in his referral photo
photos as well of the gate and the laundry
our few referral photos
our few referral photos
I carried them around everywhere!!
This comes from my journal -- it describes our little Ava...She was one year at this writing...
Behind the Blue Metal Gate
She was kept behind fenced-in walls
The type that are high and reaching and strong.
Enclosing, Excluding
Encapsulated.
Hidden away,
inside the the tall fencing was a tiny hidden garden,
reaching up for patches of sunlight,
parcelled out--as the sun travelled slowly over-head.
Where was it going? Daily, it kissed the garden,
and then it would travel away.
And she would reach her velvet brown arms
up
to catch the sunlight and to
feel its warmth.
The day I met her,
as we rang at the great blue metal gate,
surrounding her hidden garden,
she waited for me,
in the tiny garden,
behind the tall, great walls.
She reached for me--
I picked her up,
in that moment's gift of sunlight.
And, as we swayed,
standing there,
she reached her tiny fingers
up
and pointed over the wall to great trees overhead,
also swaying in the sunlight and in an African breeze.
Those mighty trees were the first moment we shared,
there, in her world of walls and tiny parcels of beauty.
She studied me,
seriously, with wise eyes and directed our gaze back,
to the great trees towering overhead,
over us
and over the garden and the little white clothes lines,
positioned to also catch the sunlight,
and the African breeze.
Wind chased through little white stockings and lifted worn but bleached white nursery blankets,
The clothesline danced with us as we swayed back and forth.
We shared the mighty trees--
And a promise was whispered to us that was full of expectancy, awe, and joy.
I had to leave her that day,
within the walls,
behind the gate,
behind with gentle women with welcoming smiles,
and a sea of other young children.
I had to leave her sitting in her seat by the tiny garden,
with the bright yellow daisies and the hot pink trumpet vines,
climbing up the walls
up and up
to kiss the sunlight
to mingle in the ancient trees
and wave in the breeze.
Serious eyes following me and then face turned upward, toward the mighty trees overhead...
I could not sleep that night.
I could not rest until she was back in my arms,
and we were driving
out
of the blue gate
into
the bright sunlight,
along crowded, bustling streets--
in my arms.
Love, Gillian
Behind the Blue Metal Gate
She was kept behind fenced-in walls
The type that are high and reaching and strong.
Enclosing, Excluding
Encapsulated.
Hidden away,
inside the the tall fencing was a tiny hidden garden,
reaching up for patches of sunlight,
parcelled out--as the sun travelled slowly over-head.
Where was it going? Daily, it kissed the garden,
and then it would travel away.
And she would reach her velvet brown arms
up
to catch the sunlight and to
feel its warmth.
The day I met her,
as we rang at the great blue metal gate,
surrounding her hidden garden,
she waited for me,
in the tiny garden,
behind the tall, great walls.
She reached for me--
I picked her up,
in that moment's gift of sunlight.
And, as we swayed,
standing there,
she reached her tiny fingers
up
and pointed over the wall to great trees overhead,
also swaying in the sunlight and in an African breeze.
Those mighty trees were the first moment we shared,
there, in her world of walls and tiny parcels of beauty.
She studied me,
seriously, with wise eyes and directed our gaze back,
to the great trees towering overhead,
over us
and over the garden and the little white clothes lines,
positioned to also catch the sunlight,
and the African breeze.
Wind chased through little white stockings and lifted worn but bleached white nursery blankets,
The clothesline danced with us as we swayed back and forth.
We shared the mighty trees--
And a promise was whispered to us that was full of expectancy, awe, and joy.
I had to leave her that day,
within the walls,
behind the gate,
behind with gentle women with welcoming smiles,
and a sea of other young children.
I had to leave her sitting in her seat by the tiny garden,
with the bright yellow daisies and the hot pink trumpet vines,
climbing up the walls
up and up
to kiss the sunlight
to mingle in the ancient trees
and wave in the breeze.
Serious eyes following me and then face turned upward, toward the mighty trees overhead...
I could not sleep that night.
I could not rest until she was back in my arms,
and we were driving
out
of the blue gate
into
the bright sunlight,
along crowded, bustling streets--
in my arms.
Love, Gillian
Labels:
adoption story,
ava,
Calling.bruik,
photos
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