Timing

So we have been on the list for a daughter for a month now. The boys and Tim are ready and waiting for a placement. I am warming up to the idea, slowly.

I am constantly noticing little girls everywhere. The pigtails, the cute little shoes and the adorable little voices. I guess those are signs that I am getting there?

I looked over photos of Alyssa the other day in the hope that I could remove some from our computer. I love taking photos of my family and when Alyssa was with us she was my muse! As I sat there attempting to erase just a few, I could not bring myself to remove any. I miss her and those photos are the only proof I have that she was in our lives. Sigh, maybe in time I can let go a little more. Not forgetting her but allowing her to move on in my head and heart.

I am praying for courage and timing. Thankful that I have family and friends who supports me and put up with my fears. I am one lucky lady. I have been given a husband who pushes us towards a rewarding life. Not one of comfort and not without pain, but others' filled.

I am blessed and I am choosing to say "Blessed be the name of the Lord"!

A Year

A year almost to the day she has been gone. She is nearly forgotten by our boys. Their lives are just beginning and this will only be one of many memories for them. For Tim and I though, the scars run a bit deeper. The sadness is overwhelming. I miss her. When will it end? When will grief soften it's blow?

Writer's Block

In everyone's life there are moments of pause. Little to say. Little to express. Even less to create. . . That is what this year has proven true for me.

There are those with an abundance of creativity. Others have an insight into lives they have never known. I relish in the creativity of others. The ability to make music that can rip your heart out as if it reads your mind. The gift of speaking eloquence and allegory without a queue card. The telling of a life with a paintbrush.

The last 11 months and 29 days have been cereal. As a mother who has lost her daughter I have been watching my life in a glass box. Waiting for the day it would be easier to breathe. Doable to dream. Less challenging to believe. I have had times in my life where things have not gone as I prayed them to go. When God said no, I said fine. I tried to manage on my own. Running from trials and also running from the need to fall at his feet. This last year I have had little desire to go to God. LIke a mother tells her child no, I have been like a little girl not getting what she wants. Stomping my feet, folding my arms and pouting my lip in response. As if my silent treatment would teach Him something I continued down my mute path.

I have been unable to write and for the most part unable to create. For me, creativity and writing are part of my life. They sharpen the edges of my story. Without them, my picture is dull and feels a bit futile. I know that I am ignoring God, my quiet time, growth. It is hard knowing what I should do and not want to do it. It is difficult to feel his hand upon me asking me to draw near and just flat out saying "no".

I am still angry. I am still broken. I still don't understand!

A relationship is not a relationship without some reciprocation. I can only blame myself for my lack of growth and conversation.
He knows me and He waits for me, thankfully.

"Whom God would use greatly He will hurt deeply." -A.W. Tozer

I know I should be honored that God would bring such a trial into my life. I have glimpses of understanding and then my walls go up again. His patience is not unnoticed. He loves me and awaits my broken heart to return with JOY.

"For his anger lasts only a moment, but his favor lasts a lifetime. Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes in the morning."
Psalm 30:5

Just a humbled, broken woman who is learning to tolerate the pains that come with growth when engaging and even the anticipation of what is to come.

Merry Christmas

This is my attempt at a Christmas letter. Here it goes!

It is almost Christmas! We are looking forward to some time as a family. Although our family doesn't feel the same, Alyssa is never far from our minds. God has given us an indescribable peace about where He has placed her. We recently saw a few photos of her and saw that she is healthy and happy. We are choosing joy, because our God is sufficient.

Micaiah is loving everything academic. He is our thinker and wants to be a scientist when he grows up. The stories and inventions that he tells always bring our home laughter. Wishing we could bottle his enthusiasm and innocence forever.

Judah prides himself on being helpful and staying out of trouble in school. He loves to throw a football with his dad and is really hoping to start soccer up in the spring (if mom and dad can get on board). He has begun reading in the last few months and amazes me with the ease he approaches his new skills. He has such a big heart and talks about Alyssa constantly. His prayers always include her and remind us of the impact she has had on all of our hearts.

Tim is chugging away at work. Recently he has taken on more responsibility with the absence of a High School Minister. He loves what he does and is thankful for such a wonderful church staff to work with. We are very blessed to be at HDC and are constantly reminded of the blessings around us.

Wendi is surprisingly busy with ministry and volunteer opportunities. She has been using her creative skills to take photographs of families, help decorate the children's department at church and get her hands dirty when she can.

Wendi and Tim had the privilege of taking a trip to Oahu for 5 days. Along with some sight seeing and vacationing, they were able to visit Surf The Nations on the island. It was a great opportunity to see what STN does to serve the people of Oahu and all over the world with their love of surfing and Jesus. As we heard some of the stories of the STN interns, we were reminded of God's love and compassion. It was heart breaking and inspiring to hear what people endure all over the world.

We are learning to function as a family of 4. Though this year has not been free of trials, we know that God is in control and we are honored that He has given us opportunities to see His love, faith and grace. We hope your Christmas is filled with joy and love!

"Because your love is better than life, my lips will glorify you. I will praise you as long as I live, and in your name I will lift up my hands"

Psalm 63:3-4

Joyfully,

Tim, Wend, Micaiah and Judah Kuhl

The Aftermath

Once again, sleep has evaded me. I either cannot fall, cannot get back, or cannot erase the dreams. Still tired, but not enough to shut down I wander down the hall and sit here at my desk to rehash whatever it is.

My goal through this journey has been to grow and trust God with it all. Along the way exploring complete joy in the trials and seeing Him more clearly. I have underestimated the effects it has had on those around me. Our son Judah, who until recently was our middle child is trying to find his place once again. He is floundering and needing a lot of assurance. I am grateful for his honesty. He often says what I cannot put into words so simply. Kids don't care about vulnerability, what to do next. They just let their mixed bag spill all over the floor and make a mess. I do believe that my children will see Jesus more clearly through this. It is just so hard to watch the aftermath. I have no control. Their sister is not like a fish that can be replaced with another. We are all floundering. Questions of what comes next are at the forefront for each of us.

I had a flashback of our first encounter with Alyssa. The day we allowed her into our hearts. I remember holding her small frame in my arms. Knowing that she was mine and that one way or another, I would never be the same. It was so vivid and so painful. Like a craving, I would have given anything to hold her again in that moment of reflection.

Today, I am struck with a desire to move forward. Our home is forever impressioned by her presence. There is a vast hole here. I have no desire to replace her with a different model. I am waiting for God to tell me what to do next. I have a passion to help people, but in what capacity? Do we give the green light and allow our hearts to be vulnerable to breakage again by taking in another child? So many need loving homes and we have that to give. Do I allow this new stage to be a catalyst for other passions? I have many opportunities to minister in ways that I have not thought about since my first son was born. I have the freedom to go with my husband and serve along side him. I can visit friends in Africa and New Guinea. There is also this underlying question, If we get too used to life without her, will we be able to go back to that stage again? The diapers, car seats and toys are just a fragment. The stress and strain it puts on our family, our marriage. The lack of control, of protection for someone so small.

My desire to honor God with my life is entangled with so much of who I am. So many factors shape who we are and why we do what we do. The bottom line is a little elusive for me at this point. I would love for God to put a giant neon sign in my front yard that points me in the right direction. I would have little trouble jumping right in. Although, not all knowing, I am wise enough to see that refinement does not come with the obvious answers. Refinement comes with the heat of the flame, the chisel, the hammer. I want my life to reflect that of Christ. I desire for my children to see God changing me. And for my mixed bag to spill on the floor and be made into something unexpected.

James 1:2-6:

²Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, ³because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. ⁴Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. ⁵If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him. ⁶But when he asks, he must believe and not doubt, because he who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind.

Proceed

Proceed: to continue after a pause or interruption b : to go on in an orderly regulated way
3 a : to begin and carry on an action, process, or movement b : to be in the process of being accomplished

I have avoided writing. The reality of her absence is great and I am trying to work through the chaos that is in my head. Three weeks ago Alyssa went to be with her mother. The beginning of our grief came like a whip lash. The day we went to court to find out our fates was the same day we had to pack her things and say goodbye. To state the emotions felt that day would not do it justice.

Our first two weeks were spent traveling by car up the coast to see family. Our goal was to get away and just "be". It proved to be a reprieve from the grief in a way. Although we missed Aly we were able to talk about her without crumbling. It gave the boys a chance to explain how they felt when they were ready. We returned to our lives. Tim went to work, the boys started back at school, and I have been trying to "be" by myself.

I knew that I'd need to keep myself busy, but the waves of exhaustion and pure sadness are proving to be a worthy adversary for me. The idea of having the house to myself for 6 hours should be a nice change but it just feels wrong. Empty, quiet, wasted space that keeps reminding me that she is gone.

No one told me that I would feel so useless once she left. That I would miss cleaning up her messes, hearing her laugh, walking into her room to find her smiling from her crib. I even miss her high pitched yelling. I cannot bring myself to enter her room. The door has been closed for weeks. How do I go in, how do we proceed? How does someone move on from this when there is someone missing.

I haven't thought about a career since our first son was born. Now, it is staring me in the face and I feel as though the only job I am qualified for is wiping noses and changing diapers. There is no easy way to enter grief and loss. No plan, no possibilities on the horizon. Just the ups and downs of each day, trying to live. I struggle because I want to do something that matters. I don't want to waste time grieving. Just let me do something already.

These are the thoughts in my head. The nagging twinges of doubt and frustration. Every once in a while I stop the noise and listen. God is telling me to be still. To trust Him for He is good. So I am learning that I cannot rush grief along. It stings, pulls you down, and then allows you to reach for the one who can make sense of it. Three weeks is not enough time to get over a loss. There is no time limit for such things. God will change me if I allow it. If I allow it in His time.

I miss her. My heart aches to hold her again. He is my comfort. He is my strength. Three weeks feels like an eternity. I pray for protection and love for her.

Two Weeks

So I am trying to breathe. The anticipation of grief is more indescribable than any other trial in my life. Let me be real. . . I have never anticipated grief before. Does anyone? Maybe the people that would rather prepare for the "worst case scenario". Those that prohibit hope from their vocabulary. Those that don't want to loose control. Those that have experienced loss in such a way that they have not recovered from the first drowning.

Tim was given a call from Alyssa's social worker yesterday. She let us know that the judge may give Alyssa's birth mother custody of her the very day of the hearing. That would give us about 4 hours to say goodbye and pack her things. Although it is like a band aid being ripped off, it doesn't seem to make things less painful. It is only showing me that the few hours that I may have left with my daughter are so much more precious than I thought.

Last night I couldn't sleep. I was too angry, confused, hurt. Alyssa usually doesn't stir in the night but awoke crying, so I was able to hold her. I don't know what made her wake from her peaceful, naive sleep, but I see each opportunity to tell her I love her as a gift. She was so trusting in my arms. As I swayed back and forth, as only a parent does when rocking their child, I gave in. The tears just came. What had been building in my heart and head could no longer be contained. With the stillness, the quiet, the safety of the dark and my baby in my arms, I could allow the grief that has been waiting to come. As I swayed and sobbed, I could feel Alyssa's hands softly moving along my back. It was almost as if she was letting me know that she would be ok. She then moved her hand under her belly and grabbed my finger. Such a sweet little hand. I will remember her peace in that moment. I will cling to that memory as I say goodbye.

Promise once it shuts you out

You ask, "What was that all about now"

You and I through rise and fall

We've seen the horizon through it all now

Close your eyes this time

Cause trust is all we have tonight

But trust will be forever

Safe your dreams will be

Cause trust will be the light tonight

So close your eyes this time

Cause trust will be your light tonight

So close your eyes this time.

The house is stale

It lets you roam

Inside it just don't feel like home now

I promise hope will pull you out

for that's what love is all about

Close your eyes this time

Cause trust is all we have tonight

But trust will be forever

Safe your dreams will be

Cause trust will be the light tonight

So close your eyes

One thing I love about Alyssa is her tough nature. She possesses something I never had as a child. A confident, curious, wild nature that doesn't back down. She is a beautiful, observant, hard headed, rough tom-boy. God has built her to handle more than I will ever understand. I know she will be well protected. The dread of holding her for the last time is too overwhelming so for the next two weeks I can spoil her with kisses and love. I pray she remembers how much she is loved. I pray she knows that she will always have a place in our home. Alyssa is my daughter, and is such a gift, as any child is. A beautiful, messy, difficult, temporary gift. May I have new eyes through my grief.

"I will be glad and rejoice in your love, for you saw my affliction and knew the anguish of my soul."

Psalm 31:7

September 24th, court hearing. Pray for Alyssa and her birth mother as we proceed.