trust.

trust-torn

I just returned from a little trip to Dallas, a little Tex-Mex food, a little speaking, a little fun with friends, and a whole lot of vulnerability practice. Loved it all. (Well, maybe not the crying in front of hundreds of people part.) It was worth it. It was worth finding more of myself so that I could offer more of myself to the gracious audience at the Tapestry Conference – a ministry and team who I have developed such a respect and admiration for the ways in which they are serving the adoption and foster care world. I want to live by them, laugh with them and enjoy them EVERY day! I continue to find healing by being in relationship with them. Deeply grateful for the opportunity to be hosted by such fine Texans, both this year and last.

This time when I spoke, I revealed all the ways and reasons why it’s really hard for an adopted person to trust…people, God. I shared how awful it feels when people leave, fall passive – physically and/or emotionally. And then, how when that happens, the human heart is left fearful of people and wandering – by itself, unprotected and without direction. How does/why would, a heart trust when it begins believing so early that it needs to navigate life and relationships and its feelings…alone?

How does a heart learn how to sink and soar when it has no place, no one, to explore from and return to?

And then, because you can’t leave hundreds of people in despair during a keynote, I shifted my focus from sharing all the ways that I had labored so hard in order to not need people, to how it was only in my awakening to the reality that I actually needed Jesus more than people when my process of learning to trust could begin.

The lies I’ve believed are being named.

The truth of how God sees me is being heard.

The veils my heart have worn for so long are being removed.

And then compassion…God’s compassion, his “rachum.” Oh, how it’s pouring over me. Oh, how it’s beginning to settle in me. The kind of compassion that was designed to flow like a mother’s love to her baby, in the womb – the very space a child is most vulnerable. That’s what I’ve needed. That’s what I’ve longed for. That’s what we all were created for – to be loved like that. To sit in that tender space that rests between us and God…and receive…perfect love, the kind of love that drives out fear. To allow a holy and sacred exchange to happen…of giving, of receiving…so that trust can emerge. And then, offer that kind of space in our relationships, with one another, to our children.

Trust begins with a holy and sacred exchange.

Parents – we need you. We need honest, vulnerable, forgiving, restorative relationships where our healing has a place to work itself out. You are the people I believe God is calling to be a part of your children’s healing. God will do his part. All you have to focus on is your part. And here’s your part…practice entering into the tender and intimate space that God has created between you and him. Practice spending time with your advocate. Practice listening to what he is whispering to you, what he is speaking over you. Practice spending time without your veils. Practice being loved, so that you can be love. Allow the holy and sacred exchange to happen. And in doing so, I believe that in that space, you will begin understanding what trust truly is. And then, because you know what that space feels like and because you know how good it feels there, you will begin realizing that perhaps trust is nothing that can be proven or earned. It’s only something that will happen when a space is created for love to be experienced. And then, create that kind of space for your children, invite them in. Show them how loved they are. Maybe as our children witness our belief, our trust in God, it could pave the pathway for their belief, their trust, to form and deepen with that kind of God, in that kind of love.

Maybe all of this good movement forward, this progression in the parent-child world, is directly related to the extent in which we as the parents, we as the advocates, allow ourselves to be on a healing journey too. We get to model God’s love – how deep and wide it is – and the mystery and beauty that he is, and who we need, to experience trust.

Maybe, trust transforms. All of us.

You create the space. Let God do the healing.

With much love and gratitude for not only the ways you are “listening” to your children, but also “leaning in.”

 

Advertisements

I DO x 10.

Wedding Pic

October 3, 2013

Dear Lover (said in the very best SNL “hot tub lovers” accent),

Ten years ago today we walked down that aisle, ready for commitment and companionship, intimacy and trust. We held hands and kissed and said, “I DO.” We believed that God had brought us together – that wild, rebellious, adventurous guy and that independent, sweet, obedient girl – who defied the culture around us and dated and waited well through our late twenties. We felt mature. We felt ready. We were happy. We were about to take a leap into marriage bliss, into our future, into forever, together. That day, our day, was unique and classy and beautiful. Nothing extravagant, just simple and meaningful. Just perfectly us.

And here we are, a decade later, still together – still skipping and fumbling and wandering and wondering, still learning to cherish and honor, still learning to fall…in love. We haven’t “arrived.” We’re still traveling. I’m so, so grateful for how our love story keeps moving and shifting and becoming…truer, deeper, wider.

Here’s what I know today, that I didn’t know 3,650 days ago:

I know a lot more about what comes with commitment. It’s in the “staying” – when hot, angry words fly around, when wrong and reactive responses come spewing out, when a cold shoulder gets shoved in a face, when the heart shuts off and takes a hike, when money and property and home-owning don’t go as planned, when romance and adventure fizzle and flop, when negative family patterns and personalities flare up, when ideas and ideals get squashed, when children call out the worst in you. These are the war zones, where the battles take place, when we want to quit. They’re brutal. They’re ugly. We’ve stepped on some killer land mines. Yet, we’re here. We both keep showing up. Sometimes intentionally, sometimes God only knows how we’ve made it back to one other. But we did. We’ve stayed.

I know a lot more about what comes with companionship. It’s in the “playing” – together, and with others. Something really good happens when we take the time to be alone, to be adults, to be friends. We’ve always talked and listened and processed – in the car, on the phone, in restaurants, in the living room, on vacations. We talk about what matters and what doesn’t matter. We keep making each other laugh…hard. We explore and discover, we re-visit and reminisce. Your “bads” are my “goods.” My “goods” are your “bads.” You introduce me to your world of boats and beer and wide open country – of peace. I introduce you to my world of mindfulness and moscato and big cities – of adventure. And then we invite others into our world – people who laugh with us (maybe at us) and play with us and who feel comfortable with us. We’re totally “people” people who love to laugh and eat and play. These have remained essentials in our marriage.

I know a lot more about what comes with intimacy. It’s in the “sharing” – openly, honestly, graciously. We were both intellectually reflective people back in the beginning, but neither of us knew much about what it really meant to connect, emotionally. Neither of us had many positive, lasting experiences being vulnerable, with ourselves, with others. This didn’t set us up well. But I’ve been learning…what it means to put your whole self on the table and allow it to be heard, received, pushed back on, embraced. I’m learning what it means to get mad and sad and scared, what it means to soar. And then, what to do with all of that, how to “be” with all of that, how to respond to all of that. I’m learning to see more of what’s inside me. I’m learning to see more of what’s inside you. Sometimes I might not like what I see, but I’m wanting, I’m choosing, to see the remarkable and the perfectly OK parts…in both of us – with openness, with honesty, with grace.

I know a lot more about what comes with trust. It’s in the “believing” – in one another’s goodness. It’s easy to think someone’s trustworthy when the endorphins rage and the romance stays. But, now we know how easily the endorphins fade and the romance can drift away. I (kind of) thought I trusted people, especially you, wholeheartedly. Winds up I didn’t. Now I know, I trusted mostly myself. Winds up that doesn’t work, at least in marriage. Somewhere I learned that someone is trustworthy only if they never hurt you. Which means, somewhere I learned that people aren’t human. But, they are. You are. I am. We’re learning what it means to repair the ruptures, start over, re-do – with respect, with acceptance, with forgiveness. We’re learning how to be human, together. We’re learning this new of way of believing…in one another.

So I guess that over the past ten years, I’ve been learning what you sign up for when you say, “I DO.” It’s not about getting hitched and wearing some bling and building a house and growing onions and cranking out darling Korean/Norwegian babies. It’s not about the picture of the perfectly posed wedding couple, smiling, admiring one another. It’s about what’s IN them – in us – and how God wants to use what’s happened BEHIND each of us to create something redemptive THROUGH us, together, FORWARDS. It’s about building and breaking and re-building. It’s about staying and playing and sharing and believing. It’s about love – learning what it means and feels like and looks like from above. And then, offering that kind of love in ways that free you, free me, so that we can create something sacred and true, together, that gives an even a fuller picture of LOVE himself…to one another, to the world.

I’m quite certain, that’s what we signed up for that day. Let’s keep leaning and living into THAT love story!

I’m in this, with you.

Happy I DO x 10, Baby!

I love you…still…always.

With much love and gratitude for where we are, right now…

Carissa

PS – I still love that I married someone with big eyes for my babies!

phone5-27 143

phone10-6 113