Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns
If you think Jesus would have come into your home that day and not issued a strong rebuke to the head of household, you are mistaken. These words of condemnation have been haunting me for days now. They aren’t all that different than the soundtrack I play in my head on an almost-daily basis. It’s…
I am nesting. On Saturday I emptied the refrigerator. Last summer’s homemade pickles in their jars. The bread ends that seem to multiply on every shelf. The eggs. The milk. The fruit and veggies. All of it sat on the floor or the counter as I carefully removed the shelves and wiped them down with…
I’ve heard that life is like a highway. And it definitely seems like that sometimes. The pace of life swirls around me at dizzying speeds. We’re all so busy. In such a hurry. Always somewhere to be, something else to do. I’m a get-to-the-point, get-there-quick kind of girl. I don’t like to waste time on…
If the Rosati family had a motto it would be: Nothing is impossible with God.
They should know. God miraculously grew their family through adoption and the Hawaiian foster care system, a story they tell in Wait No More. 
It’s a compelling roller coaster of a read, full of suspense, joy, fear, disappointment, elation and just about every emotion in between. The Rosatis are honest about their fears, their failures and the nitty gritty, not-so-pleasant aspects of adoption and raising adopted kids. They’re also upfront about their faith and having no regrets that God gave them four gifts in their children.
I tend to read adoption books cautiously. My husband and I have talked about it, but never seriously, and with two active kids under the age of 4, I’ve put the idea out of my mind lest I go out of my mind thinking about more kids in our family. The Rosatis acknowledge that adoption isn’t for every family, but they feel everyone — all Christians, that is — is called to care for orphans in some way. That’s an aspect of it I hadn’t considered.
I admire adoptive families, but I’ve never asked how I could help them or considered that maybe life isn’t peaches and cream because a family opened their home to a child who didn’t have one. I’ve romanticized adoption in the past. Wait No More has opened my eyes to other ways to support orphans and adoptive families.
Consider reading this book not only if you’re looking into adoption, whether it’s overseas or domestic, but if you’ve wanted to help orphans but didn’t know how. The book includes a listing of resources for further information and help on the topic.
Wait No More is a picture of faith in action. The Rosatis didn’t always have the answers or a clear idea of how the next step was going to happen, but they trusted God anyway and were blessed in doing so.
What blessings might be ours if we lived life the same way?
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In exchange for my review, I received a free copy of Wait No More from Tyndale House Publishers.
What a crazy week!
I could tell you that it was crazy because my husband finished two papers for finals week, our van went in to the shop to fix a disturbing whining noise, and the kids and I spent most of our time washing clothes and dishes, packing and cleaning.
Or I could show you this.
Our son, doing a babushka impression.
Or this.
Our daughter’s fashion sense. Headband. Cross necklace. Nightgown. It works for her. She’s either 3 or a fan of ’80s Madonna. I’ll let you decide.
I could tell you that the kids opened presents from the woman I call my English grandma because she’s a lady I befriended the semester I lived in England with whom I’ve kept in touch for more than a decade. She’s always sending us the neatest gifts for Christmas and birthdays.
Like this.
Mmm. Chocolate. Or in the words of our kids who have composed a new jingle for the company, “Cad-bury, Cad-bury. WE WANT SOME! WE WANT SOME!”
So to recap, busy parents plus inventive and creative children plus chocolate equals crazy.
The light at the end of the craziness was our planned trip home for the holidays. So craziness is worth it to be with family for two weeks.
Especially when we get to enjoy days that include this.
A walk through a forest to pick out a Christmas tree. In the snow. In practically the middle of nowhere. Bonus: the tree only cost $10. That’s some cheap entertainment and memory making right there.
Walking through a forest, even if it was “just” an overgrown Christmas tree farm sparked every ounce of creativity in me. I imagined stories as we tromped through the snow. And I wished for a magical sort of setting for my kids to play in as they grow. (Lord, hear my prayer.)
There was too much to smile about this week. Our van was fixed in time for us to take an 800-mile road trip. We only forgot a few things in the midst of our packing frenzy, and the one thing that makes the trip the most bearable — chewing gum for a car sick child — I remembered less than a block after we pulled away from our house. Thank you, Jesus.
Best of all, we made it to Illinois without any traffic or weather delays, with tired but smiling kiddos and tired but relieved parents.
My kids’ reaction to the snow, even if their first glimpse of it was 5 a.m. local time, was priceless. They thought the snow came to Illinois just for them.
My husband is snoring on the couch. The house is quiet. And my heart is full. We celebrated birthdays today as a family. My grandma’s — which is today — and our son’s from a few weeks ago. We cooked for our family tonight — our go-to beef stew recipe. We shopped all over town for ingredients and tracked down an appropriate pot to cook it in. We felt a little bit like participants in some sort of Food Network challenge as we rushed to beat the clock to have dinner ready in time. Then we watched with satisfied smiles as young and old devoured the stew.
The smiles escape for big reasons, like our daughter helping her Nana and Papa’s snowmobile club hand out food baskets to shut-ins. She was thrilled to say “Merry Christmas” to them and be involved in serving others. My heart smiles at her heart of compassion. And for small reasons, like the invention of family restrooms and their inclusion in interstate rest areas.
Familiar sights. Roads well-traveled. Family all around. The soft glow of Christmas lights on our newly picked tree. How our children thrive with their relatives.
If I go on, I won’t stop.
The smiles are stacking up, with more to come this week.
Thanks for indulging me in another week of smiles.