And I am, so, so, so much. The
lights twinkle a little brighter, the daily to-do list is more of a joy, less
overwhelming. The endless stream of
Christmas music is slightly less annoying… coming from me, that’s BIG! The
Christmas cards were SO MUCH FUN to make and send… the cards I’ve dreamed of
sending for years. Cards from the THREE
of us. Sigh. Christmas 2012 is dreamy.
So why is that? I’ve been asking myself what it is about Elizabeth that
makes this Christmas blow all the others out of the water. She’s not old enough to enjoy destroying the
kitchen making cutout cookies with me. She
can’t experience the twinkling lights.
She loves Christmas music, but then again, she loves all music. She’s not too sure about opening her gifts;
she’s a little uncertain about new, unfamiliar textures, and she can’t see that
the paper she’s pulling off is revealing something new and exciting underneath. The crinkly paper has a strange sound and
feel to it. Everybody’s cheering her on
and she doesn’t understand why!
Most people understand that a child who can’t see with her eyes will “see”
the world more clearly through her other senses than the rest of us will. Libby
experiences much of her world through hearing and through touch. It’s incredible the way she turns her EAR
toward a new person entering the room, much like other children turn their head
and stare. I can’t begin to count the
number of different ways I have seen her explore toys and textures through
touch. Those little hands tell a
story. A gentle, hesitant brush of the
fingers when given a new object to play with.
Quickly the hands are drawn back into her lap while she processes what
she just felt. What must be running
through her head? A quick swat at the toy again. Is it still there? What can I make it do? A little
smirk. It’s still in the same spot. It started singing to me. Then, out of nowhere, BANG! Arms waving,
little fists banging… how much noise can I make?
The natural tendency is to plop something new in her lap, grab her
hands, and “help” her get used to it.
But we learned quickly that the only thing “force-feeding” does is scare
her off. She needs to experience new
things on her own terms. It would be
like if someone grabbed your head and held your eyes open and forced you to
stare at something new until they felt you’d spent enough time staring that you
should be comfortable with it now. She needs
us to give her the freedom to “look away,” think about what she’s holding, and
decide IF, and HOW she wants to play with it.
Much like any other kid :)
We’ve learned to take her by the hand, introduce new toys slowly, ask
her permission to try something new “together,” and allow her to pull back if
she needs to. Then we try again slowly,
again and again, until the new object is safe and familiar and comfortable, and
she’s ready to learn on her own.
What a perfect picture that is of the past few years that Tim and I
have experienced, and how God has patiently, graciously, SLOWLY fulfilled our
dreams within the timeframe He knew was best for us. What if He had just plopped His entire plan
in our laps on June 10, 2006, the day we were married, and said “You will have
a beautiful daughter… six years from now”?
What if He’d laid it all out there and told us the whole story in 2008,
when we started to plan for and long for a child? “Guys, don’t get your hopes
up, it’s still gonna be four long years.
Oh, and by the way, it’s not going to happen even remotely close to the
way you’re thinking… start saving your pennies.
Adoption is your future."
What if He’d grabbed us by the hands and shown us the end of the story
when our adoption journey began in March 2011? We were excited and relieved and
joyful, but also overwhelmed and scared.
Could we have handled the whole truth even then? “Oh, by the way, all
those questions about how open you want your adoption to be? Check yes, yes,
and yes. It doesn’t matter how scared
you are, that’s the way it’s happening. And
don’t think for a second about any of those special needs on that four-page
form that you have to assess what you can handle. Again, just check yes. Your daughter has needs that aren’t even on
that form!”
Pretty sure that if, at any one of those big moments in my life, God had
grabbed me by the hand and shown my all my future holds, I would have started
screaming, just like Libby does when I force a new toy or food on her too
quickly. So why, why, why do I forget
this lesson over and over again, and find myself demanding that God show me His
plan NOW because I just can’t take it anymore? Sigh. I never learn.
I’m so thankful to my gracious God for knowing and providing what I
need WHEN I need it, just enough, never more than I can handle. He revealed his
plan for children slowly in our lives, but piece by piece, we grew stronger and
stronger, and He was merciful enough to hold pieces of the puzzle back until we
were ready. And now, I can stand back,
at least for now, and look at the beautiful masterpiece He has created, and
know that my heart is full and blessed and I am exactly where I need to be,
because He has carried me there. The little
girl that was always meant to be mine… is mine! The “openness” of domestic
adoption that once scared me out of my wits, has blossomed into a beautiful,
supportive relationship with not one, but two new families. The special needs we were once so concerned
about as we checked off boxes of what we thought we could handle… we now know
it doesn’t matter what we can handle. All
that matters is what God can handle, and He has given us strength and beautiful
blessings through this little girl who “sees” with her hands and her ears.
THAT is what makes this Christmas so special. All of you who keep telling me to “enjoy my
first Christmas with Libby…” you’re right! She makes my heart full in ways it
has never been. She brings me peace. The Redfield Family Journey has reached a
little plateau for now… God has guided us to a “scenic overlook” in our
lives. We have the joy this Christmas to
look back on the pain of Christmases past, and understand why they had to be
that way. Our hearts are peaceful and
quiet, in a way they haven’t been for a while.
I’m sure the journey ahead won’t always be so flat and restful, but at
this moment I’m thanking God for fulfilling my greatest NEED in sending His Son
to be my Savior, my greatest DESIRE in sending Libby to be our daughter, and a
beautiful, calm sense of peace… just in time for Christmas.
I pray and pray and pray for this peace for all my friends and family
and all those around me. Right now in
this country, it’s really easy to pray for peace, because we all see the need
so clearly, and at the same time it’s really, REALLY hard to pray for peace,
but it seems impossible that it will ever come to soothe the broken hearts of
the families of the Sandy Hook victims, and our nation as a whole. I’m not going there tonight. This little half a paragraph has me in tears
already; I’m not ready. I have so many
thoughts on the situation I could write a book, yet it would never say
enough. But we CAN pray, and it WILL
help. I know the first night, the common
thread on social media was “saying prayers” and “hugging your kids.” The next
day, it seemed the common thread was mocking all the people who, the previous
night, had talked about saying prayers and hugging their kids, because it “won’t
do any good.” Well, anyone who’s made it this far along my journey, even to the
end of this one post, knows my stance.
It WILL do good. Pray continually
– there’s nothing wrong with growing closer to your Savior through tragedy, and
imploring His blessings upon those families and our broken nation. Hug your babies – there’s nothing wrong with
loving them a little stronger, bonding a little tighter when you are reminded
how fragile life really is. And enjoy
the peace you have this Christmas. It is
absolutely okay to give thanks and appreciate what you have while you have
it.
