Friday, March 27, 2015

Adoption and Birth Stories

Wesley is 3 years old. We've been very open with him about Eloise's adoption. He knows her birthmom and calls her birth grandma "Grams". We haven't hid anything from him, but we acknowledge that he's very young and isn't necessarily processing any of what is happening. I take any opportunity to share with him the unique ways both he and Eloise joined our family. I want him to know that being adopted is very special and growing inside me is very special. I don't want to dwell on how they came into our family, but do want them to know their unique stories so that they can be confident in who they are and how special they are to us.

Typically the conversation goes like this:

Mama: Wesley, you know that you grew in my tummy, right? And Eloise grew in Birthmom's tummy and we adopted her. Remember that day, Wesley? When we went to court with a judge and the zoo?
Wesley: I'm adopted!
Mama: Um, no. Not exactly. But you're still very special, Wesley.
Wesley: Yes, mama. I'm adopted!
Mama: Yes. That's right.

The other night, as we were driving to church, Wesley began talking about when he was a baby. I seized the opportunity to talk about when he was born.

Wesley: Mama, I was a baby. Do you remember?
Mama: Yes, Wesley, I do! You grew in mama's tummy and you were born. You were very little.
Wesley: Yes, mama. I had a paci and I was little. I was born, mama, you remember?
Mama: Yes! After growing in mama's tummy, you were born and you were very little.
Wesley: I born in a fire truck!
Mama: Really? Wow! Tell me about that.
Wesley: Yes, mama. In a fire truck. There was lots of water! You remember, mama?
Mama: Well, yes, there was water...
Wesley: I born in a firetruck.

And scene.
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Thursday, March 26, 2015

What's been going on...

I took a hiatus from writing. Life got busy and I got writer's block. I've always wondered how much to share and if I'm sharing too much. It stressed me out to write anything because I was worried about what people would think. So I stopped altogether. Writing just seemed too overwhelming.

Over the past couple of weeks I was chosen to be on two book launch teams. I finished Rachel Held Evans' Searching for Sunday. It was incredible, refreshing, and hopeful. I'll write more soon, but the book definitely challenging how I think and encouraged me in my faith. It's the perfect book for those struggling with the church, want to more deeply discover the love and grace of God, and feel less alone in doubts.

I am right in the middle of Jen Hatmaker's For the Love. This book is funny, deep, and affirming. I cannot wait to finish it. You know I love me some Jen Hatmaker. You know she completely wrecked my life. Or maybe Jesus did and the Holy Spirit used Jen Hatmaker. That's slightly more likely. This book is perfect for busy moms who need a laugh and encouragement in their faith and all people who think the love and grace of Jesus Christ should be shared.

I am in closed facebook groups for both of these launch teams with incredible people. People with blogs, books, and fancy lives. I struggle with why I was chosen over so many others. I want to live up to the expectations and get the most out of the opportunities. Over and over I ask myself, "Am I supposed to write?" In the midst of other writers I think about how may people are already writing. Does the world need one more blog? Likely not.

Two weekends ago I had the honor to be the speaker at a women's retreat. I was humbled by the collective wisdom. I had the opportunity to study, prepare, and speak on the feeding of the 5,000 scripture passage in Mark. It was energizing and exhausting at the same time. I enjoyed myself and felt good about the experience. I loved having the chance to study and wrestle with scripture with the purpose of sharing that with other people. It's been a while since I've studied like that and I forgot how much I enjoyed it.

Last weekend our church hosted Renee Swope and Lisa Allen for a women's conference.  Although I didn't know much about them prior to this weekend, I had a fantastic time with them. I had the honor of picking them up from the airport and driving them around as needed. It was awesome to have uninterrupted time with such incredible and inspiring women.

Last weekend I began putting all of these things together. Am I supposed to write? Share my thoughts? Is it possible to share my thoughts without putting unnecessary pressure on myself? I have no idea. But I'm going to try. I'm going to share funny stories about my kids. I'll share pictures and parts of our journey. I might get deep. I might not. I might write weekly. I might not. But here's the door opening to the opportunity to share more of our story. I'm going to go back to the roots of this blog and share "What's cookin' with the Johnstons!"


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