waiting.

think you grow impatient while waiting in a doctor's office, that is a vacation compared to the wait you must endure between  your home study being submitted to the official government people, then the wait from your super-duper biometric fingerprinting appointment, to approval, to getting all those official seals and what nots on your dossier documents to sending it off, to translation, to it being sent to your child's birth country.

it's kind of like getting a root canal, with no novocain, while having to listen to backstret boys, and watch teletubbies on the t.v. and then the dentist coughs in your mouth. but times 10. 

we're applying for a show hope grant. if that doesn't work out, we'll have to become part of the breatharian movement to save on food cost. (not really trolls, chill out :)) 

i had been praying that God would give our sweet girl dreams and visions of us, so she would begin to feel connected to us, see us, etc. i totally believe in miracles and works of the Spirit. (story to follow).  we found a nifty deal on amazon local for a discount on a picabo photo album, and just made one, once we receive it, we'll be able to include it in a love package we've put together for her. 

here's a story of the way the Holy Spirt can totally act as a message-sender: 

this one time, i was in a secret off-limits country working to love and provide medical care for a persecuted people group. there were lots of military junta guys there that could/would kill us. or take us hostage to prove a point. we had this wonderful native man as our guide, he was our connection, the one who knew how to keep us alive and get us from point a to point b to point c and then d, e, f, g....
anyhow, he had been having some health issues and while we were there, he became VERY ill. so ill, we weren't sure he'd recover. without him, we'd be taken and imprisioned. and then probably die. or be maimed. it was real guys. and we didn't have rambo to save us. my friend and i (we were with a team of 8) began to pray. we had no way to contact anyone to get a prayer chain going, so we prayed that the Holy Spirit would act as a "text message" of sorts, put a word on someone's heart to pray, pray, pray. we prayed fervently. we recited st. patricks breastplate and prayed some more. well, this guy made a recovery and continued to lead us through military check-points, paying off the appropriate machine-gun holding guys to let us to our next village. when we returned home, that sunday at church, one of the leaders in our church approached my friend and i, asking about the trip. we told him of all the miracles, decisions to follow Christ, and about the golden retriever we say in a "zoo" there.  he asked if we encountered any trouble and we told him our story. he laughed and stated that morning he was headed into walmart and he was stopped, held in place by the Spirit of God, and an incredible burden placed on his heart to pray for us, for safety and protection. after he prayed, he was released and continued on. the mooring he told us that this occurred...would have been the exact time we were praying fervently for our guide/safety ensurerer's healing! 

her room has become my prayer closet. i try to visit it daily and pray in it for her. for her heart. for her healing and peace when she comes home. 

i can pretend this whole process is pretty and fun and perfect. i can pretend ugly things are not said to us. or i can be upfront about the ugly things said through "anonymous" comments or ignorant family members and strangers and be the "angry christian" in my response. but i'm working on the peace maker thing (see my last post). the angry christian may be great for blog traffic, but it misrepresents His power that comes over us when our flesh wants to rule. it misrepresents the peace He puts in our hearts, and it misrepresents the message of "it's not about me".  the angry christian may get me lots of one word comments like "truth!" and "preach!" and so on,  i'm pretty sure more masses a'mened and cheered with saul as he was over-seeing the stoning of stephen than did when he was bring the actual Word of God. i'll take less attention with more the Peace of God, because the angry christian just isn't becoming any more, not for this mommy's heart that is begging to be purified. :) <3

foolishness and the peacemakers

a dear sweet friend, who is much more wise and grace-filled than i once pointed out the exact phrasing in "blessed are the peaceMAKERS, for they will be called children of God"--matthew 5:9

it doesn't say "peaceKEEPERS" it says "...MAKERS"

KEEP--maintain what already is

MAKER--create/facilitate where there is a lack of

(how much more humility does it take, and a doing away with our own pride to walk into a life, situation, group where there is hate, strife, anger, and judgement and say "Jesus, show us how, show us how to love and help make peace, help mend!") 

after reading (ashamedly for the first time) The Hiding Place, that seed has grown into something i didn't really expect:

forgiveness. joy. 

of all the horrible things i've heard since we began the adoption of our sweet girl, the most awful has pushed me away form a family member that said it. our daughter was called a "punishment". it was phrased as this, "i just don't understand why you want to punish yourself for the rest of your life". 

i've been filled with anger toward this family member. i refuse to let them even be around our daughter when she's home at this point. our daughter is not a punishment, she is the one that has suffered for the last 10 years without a family coming for her. she is a blessing. a sweet whisper from God. 

between reading of the incredible joyful spirit in the midst of awful circumstances that betsie ten boom showed, it reminded me i had not changed my mindset of the peaceMAKER vs. peaceKEEPER verse. in the midst of beatings, starvation, and hate-filled environments, betsie ten boom announced she felt sorry for the concentration camp guards/tormentors; she was filled with sorrow because they were filled with hate, not with love. she was always encouraging her sister (corrie ten boom) to seek Jesus, ask for His help, feel sorrow instead of anger and bitterness when assaulted and cursed at. upon reading those powerful stories, i had to offer up my heart, feelings, and emotions. i had to offer up my offendable spirit. 

"for the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to those of us who are being saved, it is the power of God" --1 corinthians 1:18. 

of course they do not "get it"! of course it is foolishness to them! the secret of love, hope, and joy has not yet been revealed to them! we should weep for them, not because of what they say!-but because they are not yet able to feel this kind of love and joy! i find myself here now. thanking Him for the wonders of His word He has chosen to reveal to my heart, and praying that He would have mercy and reveal those same wonders to the hearts of others. 

how can i be a peaceMAKER to someone who called my daughter a punishment?! 

i can wait. i can wait until the Spirit moves, and then i can show love. i can show the blessing that she is. i can show the blessing this adoption is. i can show how He whispers His love to us through her. i can show HIM! because it's not about me. we are walking embodiments of His Word. we carry it in our hearts and it lights our way. oh, please! let asking for His help become as natural as breathing. LET US NO LONGER BE ABLE TO TELL WHERE HE ENDS AND I BEGIN! 

let us etch His word upon our heart so that there is no room for bitterness and offense in it, only love. 

proverbs 7:1-4

My son, keep my words
And treasure my commandments within you.
2 Keep my commandments and live,
And my teaching as the apple of your eye.
3 Bind them on your fingers;
Write them on the tablet of your heart.
4 Say to wisdom, “You are my sister,”
And call understanding your intimate friend

*paperwork update: home study has been sent to our agency and government people for approval. next step is this super expensive biometric fingerprinting. after that, we'll get an approval that we are not bad people. we then add this official "you're not bad/crazy people" certificate to our dossier (dos-e-a) packet, get all of it notarized, something else stamp, something else stamp, and then send all of that off to the chinese consulate people. then all we have to do is wait. 

when i reach over...

there are times, which increase in frequency with each passing day, where i reach over to grab her hand as i cross the road and have to remind myself she's not here yet.

in the mornings when i stumble around with my cup of coffee and wait to hear her clopping down the stairs, and i then remind myself her precious footsteps are on the other side of the world.

i carry her heart with me. i'll borrow e.e. cummings' words: (copied exactly in his weird styling and literal arrangement:

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done

by only me is your doing,my darling)

                                                      i fear

no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

moving on: 

we are still neck deep i paper work, notarizations, officiations, authentifications, etc. but it's a 

necessity. so many terrible things happen to children, via adoption and otherwise.

part of the process is keeping up with these blogs and status updates, and there are times i'm not even 

sure how to articulate what we're feeling or in the midst of, or even thinking (so i may copy e.e. 

cummings--but at least i properly attribute it). if i'm asked a question i don't really know how to 

answer by well-intentioned, or just plain nosey, people, i usually resort to an 

exhale and a "it's going". i wish i could go into detail with everyone who asks, but honestly, i don't 

feel we have to anyway. it's okay for us to keep our hearts, and our sweet girl's life, guarded. we 

actually owe it to her to not treat her as a "story to tell" or promotion for a fundraiser. 

you can read all the fluffy words adoptive parents have to share, you can "wow" at us (adoptive 

families) all you want (or curse us and judge us if that's your m.o. for life), but it's about these 

children. who were created in His image, who didn't have a choice what womb carried them, what 

drugs invaded their systems at their most vulnerable and helpless time, who had no say in what 

culture they were born in (scorning females, viewing birth defects as "curses", etc.), and could do 

nothing but lay helpless as they were abandoned (or abused and neglected).  what we are called to do 

is step in and be a part of this story of redemption. we are to say "it's not about me", it's not about 

blog views and donations, it's not about t-shirt sales, it's not about shares, it's not about rather or not 

people "get it". it's about our children, our children who were carried in someone else's womb, but we

carry in our hearts. as angry as we can become (righteously or indigently) regarding their treatment, 

abandonment, etc. we must remain thankful that their birthmother chose life. our sweet girl's mommy 

loved her enough to choose life, and then wrap her in a blanket and leave her with a bag of milk, and 

for that, we are forever grateful. 

i can't even be angry at those anonymous comments left here either (i moderate, so i probably won't 

post them...or i'll save them all and do one "ha! look at what people say to us hiding behind a 

computer screen" post).  the people that you encounter face-to-face and have ugly things to say, i 

usually respond "okay, well, you don't have to do an international adoption then" (that's one of my 

more kind responses, i'm really working on my grace thing). the minute we start letting outsiders 

dictate our joy, our heart, and our mindset, is the minute we allow other's to take a leading role over 

our children. 

other's don't have to understand our hearts either. i can share the story of sadness that overtakes me in 

moments like the ones i first mentioned in this post, and people can stare blankly at me or deliver a 

"oh, she'll be home soon enough" without real love behind it, and that's okay too. our hearts, our 

family. we don't need understanding from acquaintances, friends, or even family to validate those 

things we feel deep in our hearts. 

besides, it's not about me anyway. ;) 

the art of the over-share, and how all things work together

i was an awkward kid:

i stood reverse-pigeontoed too (my affinity for short tunics and leggings started early)

i once went through a semi-androdginous stage  (why compete with  a "perfect" sister?) 

then i went through a drab stage

also, since pictures don't talk (per se), i'll let you in on a little bit of history:
* i was in speech therapy from the time i was 3 through high school (and bullied ruthlessly at points (trolls--whatevs, i've experienced worse than grammatically poor anonymous judgements)
* i was/(okay, still am) really socially awkward
* i lacked any and all coordination
* i didn't hear the doting i wanted/needed to hear (that was doted on aforementioned "perfect sister"), and therefore grew up with a significant inferiority complex
* i always felt like the black sheep of the family

the hubs was adopted domestically (i'm sure i've mentioned this), and has never ever ever mentioned or shown or anything that he had at any point experienced any grief or loss, or had "what if my birth mother..." thoughts. while watching one of our adoption education/training videos, the narrator made a statement to the effect "at some point in their life, every adopted child experiences some grief or sense of loss from their birth family".  i looked over at ryan and said "you've never mentioned any struggle with this....have you experienced this and it was just really brief so it wasn't worth talking about?" he shook his head and said "no, absolutely not, i never have".  (this is important to my "over-share" with our sw coming up next...). i'm pretty open and honest my feelings and experiences (part social awkwardness, part "the more honest i am about my crap the less they think i will judge them"--the later part doesn't work, it just puts people off (fyi)).

moving on to over-sharing:
our sw arrived (10 minutes after our disagreement (read previous post)) and we began our meeting. she was asking how our training was going and we discussed some of the videos we had recently watched (the above paragraph).  she noted that and said to keep the videos in mind anyway because even though he didn't experience any of that, it could have been subconscious or when he was so young he didn't remember, and that we needed to be aware that our daughter WILL. we were about he head upstairs for the tour and i just had to add on, i had to interject, i had to say something else (apparently my need to over-share is a natural reflex when it comes to conversations ending). i joked "it's funny, he's the one that is adopted and has no issued or doubts about his place and role in his family, i was biological and i grew up feeling like the black sheep, like i didn't belong". our sw perked up and readied her pen "tell me about that"...then the filter came on...too late :)
i explained that my sister was the beautiful one (and 12 years older, so when people complimented her, they felt no need to tell the 4 year old staining next to her she is a pretty girl too), my brother the charismatic and athletic one, and i was...well, none of that. i was awkward, i had a speech impediment i was made fun of for, and no one really to defend me. NO ONE TO SPEAK TRUTH OVER THOSE LIES. NO ONE TO PRAY WITH MY HURTING LITTLE GIRL HEART TO SEE IT'S IDENTITY IN CHIRST, and then read those identity-based verses with me.

there are all these articles and studies and what not about what level of thinking young children can do, but i have distinct memories at agest 3+ of knowing in my heart and head i wanted--needed to hear an adult tell me something positive and encoring, and not hearing it, or hearing the exact opposite. i remember being that young and seeing/hearing those other very young children around me be doted on and questioning in my mind (why won't they (adults) say nice things to me?).

i remember everything my young and teenage heart needed, and didn't receive. (at a certain point, you become responsible for yourself, i get that, and did).

i told our sw this and that i believe God wants to use that for good, He will use those experiences and hurts to help me be a wonderful mommy to our little girl. "and we know that God works all things together for the good of those who love Him and have been called according to His purpose" --romans 8:28.  and this "you intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives"--genesis 50:20 .  i continued to explain that all my hurts and experiences have taught me what the hurting hearts in little girls need.

parents say all the time that they would give up their life for their child, can i not also say that i believe in a sovereign God, who knew my beginning and end, who knew my daughter's beginning and end, and who knew my hurts and what would be her hurts, and that He brought me through those trials to teach me and show me what my sweet daughter needs and feels? He knows my daughter, and i believe that He entrusted me with those years of yuck i faced TO TEACH ME ABOUT HER HEART. i will not let her heart go without encouragement, i will not let her spirit go without being lifted, i will not let her go a day without knowing what her true and beautiful identity is.

He will not let a single remorse go without restoration, He will not let a single pain go without being used for His perfect purpose, He will not let a single wound go without bringing someone else their healing.

i love Him, and i love my daughter; therefore, who am i to question any reason that i had hurts, because i trust they will bring our daughter healing.

in the end, when we emerge from it all and see His purpose, we can say everything that passes by His hands: all the hurts and all the joy are for a far better purpose than we can understand. my daughter is that purpose.

plus: when you have years of social awkwardness behind you, you have no qualms about dressing up in a firefighter suit for your preschool :) 

we keep it real y'all...

you know those families that hold hands all the time, finish each other's sentences, "never argue" and say, "no, you hang up first" "no, you!" "haha, no, you hang up first!" post pictures of elaborate homemade meals for nightly dinners and so on...yeah, that's not us.

we do things like eat snacks for dinner sometimes (like when we want to go to bed at 7...):

we also think 10 minutes before our sw arrives to our home for our final home study visit is a great time to get in an...um...disagreement. 

she's cool with that though, we laughed and told her about it later, just so she would know we were real.  

--see, there's a bunch of official what-not paperwork and official seals, and official authentifications and official blahs that have to be done. it's too stressful to think of the real terms for all that, much less do it yourself. agencies know this-which is why they offer to get all that what-not officialed and authenthified for you for an additional $2,000 (on the state/county level); and then theres more official blahs that have to be done on the country levels, and they will do that for you for $1,200.  i told ryan we could sell one of my kidneys, donate plasma, and sell his cat (not mine, mine is awesome, his we can do without) to pay for this, but he disagreed. i disagreed back and showed him some priceless family heirlooms we could sell to pay for it, and he disagreed with my disagreement...so on. (some of this may be hyperbole).  

anyhow, we showed our sw our home, the fire extinguishers, the smoke alarms, the carbon monoxide (or is it dioxide...) alarms, and our embarrassing ebay/junk room (which is NOT lu-lu's room). we then showed her our sweet girl's  perfect room. by this time, she hadn't ended the meeting early, so we felt pretty confident she thinks we can be entrusted to be lu-lu's mommy and daddy, even with a messy ebay room. 

what's next?

a bunch more papery stuff:

* we wait for her to type up her report, send it to us for review, and such. 

* then she submits it to the government and we then submit our i-800 application. ($720)

* once the gov. gets this and does their thing (who knows how long this will take, they have more important things to do, like mislead all of us...), we get our fingerprinting appt.  it's like x-men level/biometric super fingerprinting. ($85 a person)...(they better be able to tell me things i don't even know about myself for it to cost that much a person) (can't i just use the ink pads in my classroom's stamp box and do it myself?)

this doofus is pretty excited to meet lu-lu too. he's taking obedience classes and everything!

(ohmygoodness, no one ever told me how much work puppies were! why didn't anyone tell me! what are you people thinking who know the truth about puppies and get a puppy and pop out a baby the old fashioned way at the same time!)

anyhow, our fsp profile is officially on the "compiling dossier" page with rr now. woot! 

and there's over $100 in it! that's some beautiful love for our sweet girl! 

i'm trying to drink lots of water for now, just in case it comes down to ousting a kidney. 

the joy of the struggle (and how dog farts help me to not take ugly comments seriously)

once upon a time i lived in uganda. i did things like teach sunday school lessons, fed 150 village kids every saturday and sunday, wrote newsletters to supporters of this village ministry, and one time i had "the" talk (aka for those who don't know of what 'the' in :quotes: translates to = sex) with about 50 young girls....it was pretty awkward. since most my life had been spent hanging out with and teaching 3 year olds, i had to remind myself that "wee-wee" and "little girl area" were not the terms i needed to use with 9-15 year old girls (although i once had a 4 year old who somehow learned to call her little girl area her "kitty"--seriously "mom", you couldn't think of another 4 year old appropriate euphemism than "kitty" for her little girl area?)
moving on to...dog farts (seriously, it's coming, just keep reading, and it's all related to adoption, i promise).

anyhow, upon my return, i was visiting family, and i found myself in conversation with a jerk. a prideful jerk--though, that's kind of a redundant description because i have never met a humble jerk (the adoption part really is coming). we were talking about why i've done what i've done over my life: teach older students with severe emotional/behavioral disorders, travel to afghanistan about a year after 9/11 to teach in newly gender-intergrated classrooms, humanitarian work in ethiopia and burma, and recently a short trip to rwanda and a 5 month stay in uganda. i was talking about how "from whom much is given, much is expected" and i felt that my soul could have easily been born in a body in an impoverished country or under the rule of a faction that gives no value to women, but since my soul was blessed to have been born in a body ("you don't have soul, you are a soul, you have a body"--c.s. lewis) in america, my body should take itself to other lands to help those souls in those bodies. at the end of our conversation, he asked me (not out of curiosity, but out of indignant hateful judgement): "in all you've done, haven't you found that there are some people that are not worth saving". :jaw hits the floor and fist clinch: (i kind of wanted to retort back, "yeah, you" but Jesus hovered over me and put His hand over my mouth, He's cool like that).

here's the thing: some people don't understand love. there are three types of love:
storge: what you have for your family
eros: love you have for, well, your lover
philia: brotherly love, as in what christians have toward each other
agape: the highest form of love, the love Christ showed toward us, and commands us to show toward all (agape is sacrificial, open, non-judging, non-offensive...you know, just look at the fruits of the spirit, agape produces those).

i've been asked by people:
* "why are you adopting?" (judgmentally, not really wanting to know our story)
* "why's you not adopting from 'murica? kidz heres need a's family too!" (crushes can on head) (kidding, but i like to tell stories in hyperbole) (and yes, absolutely! children in the foster system need families too! and we will do that, later :))
* "why are you adopting a child with special needs, why do you want to punish yourself for the rest of your life? you'll never be able to go to the beach and have fun again, you'll never...." (yes, that is the most important part of life, having fun at the beach...)
* ...so on

there's also trolls:

except the ones i'm talking about probably don't look like that....though i'd like to imagine they have really crazy hair and big eyes, because it makes what they write more humorous (when you can decipher it, often it's filled with really poor grammar...)
"trolls" like to send what they deem as nasty messages to you through your blog or leave comments (i moderate comments so i don't publish them....i refuse to publish comments with poor grammar).  they seem to have an issue with families fundraising (i think that's what they are trying to say...).  i did once, as a child, bury $30,000 in a tin can with my brother's micro machine car and my friend's favorite hello kitty neckalce-but i seem to have forgotten where i buried the $30,000, otherwise we'd totally dig it up right now and use it to fund our adoption.

see, here's the thing about all these fundraisers you all see--the joy is in the giving, the joy is in the story, the joy is in the faith that He will provide through His body, because we have AGAPE love for each other. oh, ye of little faith that need it to be easy! i LOVE learning to trust in HIM. i love seeing Him provide through my brothers and sisters in Christ, it's our way of telling each other, "hey! we're all family! bloodlines mean nothing! WE ARE ALL IN HIS BLOODLINE!" if all these families already had $30,000 + for their adoptions, then when other areas of life got rough, they'd be starting out so weak, and have to learn to trust from that point--but if in this process, we see Him provide through the silliest of ways, and the most humble of our brothers and sisters in Christ, then how much more do we learn to trust in HIS WAYS! how much more can we feel that He is there with us, with our other adoptive community. i don't understand what all the "use your money" stuff is about anyway...it's not "our money" and your money isn't even "your money"...it's His money, He has entrusted us to steward it! the hubs and i continue to support our kids through gospel for asia, we continue to support a mission family in uganda, we continue to support other adoptive families...because we know it's not our money. we receive so much joy from giving to others, and others who give, receive joy as well.

so, (here comes the dog fart part from earlier) when jerks say ugly things about missions and humanitarian work, and trolls with colorful pink hair that sticks straight up and with big eyes say unkind things (i think it was supposed to be unkind...) i don't sweat it, and you please don't sweat it either, you have the joy! they are missing the joy. besides, i have more important things to worry about, like why my dog's farts stink so bad. seriously, this guy can clear a room, wake you up from a dead sleep...he's actually had such bad smelling gas before that he's looked around to see "who did it" and then left the room. this is my pressing concern right now...dog farts. :)

paper pregnancy...also i can't wait for slamming doors

honesty about paper pregnancy hormones and the issues: 

"paper pregnancy" refers to the period of time from when you have PA (pre-approval) to when you actually are with your child...some people think adoption is awesome because you don't have to deal with all those pregnancy "issues"...wrong. except for the excessive gas, i don't have excessive gas (my husband is happy about this). but, you do become weepy. you do become stressed. you do want to eat crazy amounts of ben & jerry's salted caramel core ice-cream and taco bell (maybe these last two are just me, and the stress).  you do get all weepy watching commercials (freakin' commercials!) on t.v., you get all weepy reading news stories and seeing videos of students with down syndrome (or other disabilities) accepted into college or realize other dreams and goals. you do cry in the shower missing them (and then try to convince your husband that "nooooo...of course you're not crying" but they know you well and know that you actually are doing one of those silent tear drop cries).

several of my friends are pregnant. sweet girls, they're going to be wonderful mommies. i am so filled with joy in our adoption, we are choosing to adopt first to build our family, but, honestly, there is a twinge of sadness combined with jealousy seeing them in their pregnancy. they can touch their belly anytime they want and feel their child, all i have is two pictures.  i wear them around my neck in a locket, and her sweet face is close to my heart, but that's all i can do, i can't not reach out and hug her. they can nourish their body, protect their child, for 9 months. for the next 9 months i can only pray my daughter is healthy, protected, and nourished. if you are pregnant, treasure it, treasure knowing that your child is already with you and that you can protect them. 

in this waiting period we are in, with many other adoptive families, my heart races to all the "what-ifs"....what if something happens and china halts all the adoptions (like what occurred in russia), what if we aren't trying hard enough to find a way to move to china and raise her in her birth culture. what if....

i think of her birth mother every day. i wonder if her birth mother had been blessed to have been born in the freedom of america, if she would have still felt she had no other option than to give her sweet daughter up. i wonder if she still cries for her, the child she felt the best thing she could do for was to abandon them and give them a chance to be adopted. i think of her foster parents, and how they provided for and cared for her for the past 7 years.  she has stated she wants to be adopted and move to america with her forever family, but i wonder of the emotional toll us taking her will have on her foster parents, if any.

heidi baker is an awesome woman.  she was speaking once and said that she could tell when her adoptive children really felt they were part of the family, they would go from asking to get something out of the refrigerator, to just opening it and getting what they wanted--"refrigerator rights".  i understand this now, even though my daughter isn't home yet. i want her to feel her "slamming doors" rights. not that we will support that (slamming doors) her whole life, what i mean is, i want her to know that she can become upset and display this, and see that our love for her does not fade even in those times. she can slam a door, and know that we will be on the outside ready to talk it over when she is ready, and eager to follow up with a hug and "i love you". she can understand and know that she can be a kid (after years of adult responsibilities like caring for younger foster siblings), and still be treasured and valued beyond description. i'll take the tantrums, i'll take the power struggles, i'll take the testing limits and slamming doors, i just want her home, with us, safe and loved. 

“Sing, O barren one, who did not bear; break forth into singing and cry aloud, you who have not been in labor! For the children of the desolate one will be more than the children of her who is married,” says the LORD.--isaiah 54:1 

so as to not be a total debbie-downer, here's a picture of one of my favorite animal photo bombs, ever:

and one of a monkey who found a photo-journalist's lost camera and succeeded in taking the best selfie ever: