blessed by friends who already love our daughter

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On Friday, I got to post this wonderful status message:


That's a lot of likes. And a lot of comments.

Thank you for rejoicing with us.

As I scanned through the comments and the likes, I was touched by how loved our girl already is and how many lives she has touched. Among the likes are...

...friends who have known me for decades and others who have known me for days.

...friends who I've been to church with and friends who I've been to bars with.

...friends who I know through Bible study and college and teaching and high school and swimming and middle school and journalism and ministry and parenting and neighborhoods.

...friends who I taught as youth in Sunday school and friends who have taught my children.

...friends who are Christians and friends who aren't.

...friends who I've lived with and friends who I've only met online.

...friends who added precious comments like, "Thank you, Father," and "Can't wait for your daughter to be home!" and friends who texted us sweet words like, "Congratulations, Mom of THREE!!!!!!!!!!!!"

...friends who care enough to shed tears and feel goosebumps and shout and sing and gasp in joy for us.

Adoption is beautiful. It is beautiful primarily because it offers a little glimpse into what God did for us in calling us into His family and adopting us, an act made possible by the sacrifice of His Son.

And it is also beautiful for all the ways it has united friends of ours across the world and across our life history, all joining with us in excitement about Zoe's arrival.

Thanks for being a part of our adoption.

zoe amanda: legally our daughter.

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Y'all.

Zoe Amanda is legally a Dingle.

We're celebrating by continuing to unpack the house (hey, if we don't keep making good progress, we'll still have boxes waiting when we leave for Taiwan, and we don't want that!). And picking up Pei Wei tonight. (umm, it's Asian-ish.)

We're praying that our court documents will be translated from Chinese back into English with record speed.

We're praying that AIT - the US entity in Taiwan - will schedule our visa appointment the week of June 25. That would be the ideal time for us to travel, and it would mean that we would depart sometime the week of the June 18.

We're thankful that we'll likely be traveling with at least one other family, a couple from Nashville and their eight-year-old daughter. I'm looking forward to meeting this other sweet mother, as we have bonded through having similar timelines for our Zoe and their Nathan.

We're looking forward to coming off the plane and through security at the airport to see friends and family and our two oldest children waiting to celebrate the arrival of our third child.

And we are looking forward to kissing her cheeks, looking into her eyes, and seeing her lips smile.

I've used two words over and over again in the past four months: thankful and blessed.


More than any others, those sum it up for us.

We are thankful.

And we are blessed.


Thanks for praying with us on this journey.




the hot dog that broke the momma's back

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It was a hot dog that did me in.

Friends who know me well have been checking in on me, making sure that I am holding up under all the change. They are the friends who knew what I needed them to know before I posted about it. And they are the friends who knew the toll that all this change would have on me, even before I realized it.

But I doubt any of them would have guessed that a hot dog would be my undoing.

Lee heated it up for me for lunch. I was looking forward to eating it. That is, until I realized that our ketchup and mustard are at the old house.

That, my friend, was the straw that broke this camel's back.

As Lee put the hot dog back in the container, knowing that I don't eat hot dogs without my ketchup and mustard, I started crying. He asked if I was okay. I told him I didn't know.

"I'm just tired of living an in between life!" I sobbed. "I have a hot dog, but I can't eat it. We're in the new house, but not really because all our stuff isn't here. We're adopting, but we don't have Zoe yet. It feels like we're holding our breath and about to pass out but we can't inhale yet."

And then it hit me, a line from a book I reviewed almost two years ago.
 “..., this is only evidence of our semi-eschatological conundrum, wherein we, along with creation, groan for the full enjoyment of a redemption that we possess now only in part (Eph. 1:7, 14). In this very Abba-confession the rock of the ‘already’ meets the hard place of the ‘not yet,’ for it is due to the present awareness of our sonship that we can call God ‘Father,’ but it is because this adoption has yet to be consummated that this bold affirmation comes in the form of a fervent cry.” (p. 175, Dual Citizens: Worship and Life Between the Already and the Not Yet by Jason Stellman; italics his) 
We are not called to be comfortable. If we are mindful of the already but not yet world in which we live, we will constantly feel the tension that comes from knowing the promises of God but not experiencing all of them on this side of heaven. We who know we belong to Christ long to see Him face to face; we know He has won the victory over sin (by His crucifixion) and death (by His resurrection), yet we still inhabit a world smeared with both.

I'm still feeling shaky, but I know that my foundation, which is Christ, is solid. Because of that, I'm not rushing the wait. Before we hit the full heat of summer, our new home will be complete with all our stuff and all three of our children. Oh, how I long for that!

But I'm resolved to cherish the wait because I know God is purposeful. I know that this is all part of His good work being completed in me. I know that all things - including the "not yets" of life - work together for the good of those who are called according to His purpose.

I know many of you are praying for the "not yets" to be over soon, and so am I. Thank you for those prayers.

But would you also join me in praying for the work God is accomplishing in our family as we wait and praying that we would not miss out on any of that by worshiping the idol that is our own desired timetable?

Thanks. 

~+~
And don't worry: I found something else to eat for lunch, Lee will be getting the ketchup and mustard when he picks up a load at the old house tonight, and a sweet friend is taking the kids for the day tomorrow.

And, most importantly, God is still good. He still would be even if I had no lunch, ketchup, mustard, or childcare, and He still will be even if the "not yet" period lasts longer than I would like.

disability ministry weekly round-up {may 14, 2012}

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Hi, friends! I was without internet last week as we moved, but I am thankful to be in our new home and to be back in this bloggy home.

I'm even more grateful, though, for the privilege I have to serve in special needs ministry at my church each week. It's a full week: reaching out to a family who was reported to CPS because someone didn't understand their child's autistic behaviors, connecting another family to community ministries that they might find housing, praying with a family whose sons are ill with test results providing no answers yet, checking in on a family whose son had surgery a couple weeks ago, and preparing for our next respite night (June 16!).

I don't deserve the honor of serving these families, and I am glad God's grace and providence allows me to do so.

A Prayer for Trusting Jesus in Transition and Change This wasn't written for families affected by disability, but it applies in so many ways.

Your Ministry is Not Your Identity "Being a pastor [or, you could add, a minister of any kind, including a parent] was my calling, not my identity. Child of the Most High God was my cross-purchased identity. Member of the body of Christ was my identity. Man in the middle of his own sanctification was my identity. Sinner, and still in need of rescuing, transforming, empowering, and delivering grace was my identity."

Pastor finds his niche with unique ministry, Hidden Blessings Don't you love stories about churches engaging in disability ministry? They never get old for me, though I look forward to the day when they are so common that they are no longer newsworthy.

Going to church with my family This is a basic example of a social story. Social stories are a research-backed way of describing "a situation, skill, or concept in terms of relevant social cues, perspectives, and common responses in a specifically defined style and format." (source) In other words, they help those with social disabilities navigate contexts that they don't innately understand. As another example, I'll be posting our respite night social story later this week.

Churches and the Disabled I haven't been able to watch the video yet, but the transcript includes several leaders in disability ministry with valuable perspectives.

John Knight blogged about this today, and I'm thankful he included the full video, which I had not yet seen. (Tissue warning! Though, to be honest - as the daughter of a Vietnam veteran and the granddaughter of two WWII veterans with many other deep military connections - I need tissues for any service member's homecoming.)


I'm sure I missed some links in the past week while I was without internet. Which ones would you recommend for me and others passionate about special needs ministry?