Today seems too heavy. Today is one thing after another. Today is a challenge, a test. Today my faith is being tried as I cling to it with all my might.
The past hurts both seen and unseen of tiny sweet souls takes its toll on my heart. I want to etch a sketch it away for them, to give them a new beginning to their story. I cannot.  Today is hard as I answer questions asking if I will always be their safe. Today is harder than most for some reason as I dig deep for the right words and hold back tears as I look into their eyes.

Today is hard as I reflect back on my time in Liberia doing missions. I miss the kids from the depths of who I am. I can still hear their giggles, smell the scent of their worked hard for sweat, and remember each and every story. Today I smile through the tears as I think back on what I learned and how I grew through the pain I saw and experienced. My smile grows when I recall all of the perseverance I witnessed. all of the joy felt and love shown.
Today is hard as I call the doctor for my daughter that has been sick for over two months. Tests gallore face us tomorrow and we hope and pray for answers. Today is hard to love and forgive the choices birth mom made that led to my daughters immune disease.
For everything hard today, there is a joy surrounding it.
I am filled with joy as I get to be the mamma for a short time to some incredible wee ones.
Joy overtakes my everything as I think about the blessing of calling Liberia my other home.
Joy abounds and I can barely breathe when I think of how blessed I am to be her mom.
I would and will take a million more hard todays knowing that this is my joyous reality.

Today I was called mamma. Just like every other day really, except for the sweet little voice calling out for mamma was not my forever little. He is a guest for a short time that I pour all I have and all I am in to, knowing full well my heart will shatter into a million pieces at the time of our farewell. His eyes look to me to heal wounds I cannot fathom and his arms cling ever so tight in hopes he will never have to let go. Let go is exactly what has to be done, not only in the end but now as well at the start of it 
all.

Letting go of the concern for "what will people say" and man can they say mean things. My least favorite is "what about you 'real kids'?" My 'real' kids (as opposed to my fake ones) are people of compassion and love. They are taught to love well even when those in need of love are difficult and cruel, even when the spirit of religion spews hate in the name of a loving King. My 'real' kids know what REAL is and do it well. 

Those eyes that look to me and call me mamma and call my home safe are every bit as real as any other child. 
Bedtime takes longer, shopping is a comedy show, showering is few and far between, the laundry pile is touching the ceiling, and my heart is over flowing. Nothing, absolutely nothing would I change. They are all worth it! They are the people that will grow up to love as they have been loved, persevere as they have seen, see challenges and face them head on, fight victoriously for a world with more love and less hate because we were willing to feel the hurt for them. 
When I think of how I want to be remembered, I find myself hoping that people will say that I fought for the weak, spoke for the voiceless, that I risked, that I ran from complacency, and more than anything loved and found value in all. 
As much as I would like to believe that I am still twenty-nine the reality is that my story has been ongoing for forty-two years. As those years add up and that number grows I become more aware of the need to cherish the details with never missing the big picture. I look on back on all the hills I died on fighting petty battles, the hearts I unintentionally trampled by shoving the gospel at, the times I spoke when I needed to listen, and so much more. Those memories, that part of me, is an integral part of my story. Having learned from who I was and transforming into who I need to be today continues to be a path filled with hills and valleys that I face head on.                                
My hills and valleys today are chock full of the pitter-patter of little feet and magnificent moments of silliness and joy-filled tears when I hear the word "mamma". 

A voice for those without, an advocate for those knocked down, a willingness to take the hit for the bruised and battered, a heart made to be broken.
I was created to love. So what does love look like? Well, it seems to me that as a society, as a whole we have come up with our own view and model of perfect love. Here's where I tick off a lot of folks...
I am fed up with all of the excuses and hypocritical ways we as a society are willing to show (what we call) love. Words are empty until followed up with action, love is not felt if shadowed with conditions, trust is not given if relationships are not built.
Finding value in people is the right thing to do. All the rest is mere details. That's where we get stuck though, isn't it? We so badly want to the details to be on our terms, in our timing and never against what we believe to be okay. Well, there went the love, trust, and respect we so passionately said we give ever so freely as well as any hope of receiving it in return.
One cannot open up any social media, or watch the news without seeing the accepted hate and "in the name of....." garbage as thought to be valid excuses to tear others down. It sickens me to see this lack of value seen in our fellow mankind. If you are obsessed with others way of life, beliefs, or choices to the point of constant ridicule, might I suggest looking at yourself! Without a doubt an inward look will reveal the real problem.
Far too many issues are out there to list, however here's a few...
The Big Bathroom Debate: - my thought - I've never once stopped to ask to check and see whats under another persons clothes, so I'm not sure if I have been peeing with boys or girls. Truthfully, I'm just glad I didn't wet my pants.
Refugees: SERIOUSLY! Don't visit my house if this is an area on contention for you. You may feel surrounded.
Black lives matter: Again, please don't visit as you will be outnumbered and they all do play with squirt guns.
Police lives matter: Yep, they do! We, including the African, African/American, American Indian, and who knows, support our police and think they matter.
Confused yet??
Homosexuality: Yep, you guessed it. We have one of 'those' too. Now as you are all freaking out and praying for the deliverance of one of the dear Neal children. I will tell you that it is my adopted sister.
I could go on and on and on.
Sadly I hear people say "I have to be careful about what I say around certain people". My response to that is "why"? If what we say comes from a spirit of unconditional, authentic love then why the need to be careful?
Bottom line is that people, all people matter. Actually they still matter if others don't agree. Our opinions of others don't make their reality. If we want our opinions to matter and our words to be heard then we might try saying them with more love and less hate. Love is easier to hear than the deafening screams of hate.

There is something so right and so peaceful about silence. Not found often in my life, however welcomed in small increments.
This morning I have been on the receiving end of powerful love. In all honesty I am on this end at all times, I simply don't take the time to embrace it and allow myself to be enveloped in the perfect love offered in His silence.
My silence in His silence, is filled in a sense with noise, noise that I must listen through. Noise of awe and wonder. Birds of all kinds raise a joyous noise, beavers splash clumsily in the pond, frogs join in with their chorus of croaks, and the wind lightly whispers its gentle embrace. Refrain from thinking, from doing, from moving. Be....just be.
I am loved far better than I deserve. I am covered with a blanket of grace. I am protected by a mighty force. I am treasured.
To completely be able to love well and to pour into others lives I must cease all doing if only for a moment. One cannot fill a moving cup. So I remain still in order to be replenished. The pain of the emptying moves at a snails pace yet we must recognize that we, being made to love, as well need to be loved.  Allow yourselves to be filled up in order to give and empty yourselves completely. The filling will never end, this I promise.
So love well and rest well.

I sit here with my sick little boy reflecting on my life. 

Today I was supposed to be on an adoption panel but my son developed a fever and cough. He began to make a noise I hadn't heard from him yet. It was a cough. He is a very poor cougher - I had no idea this would be a struggle for him as he seems so strong. Long story short here, we made it through the night without visiting the hospital and have successfully used more kleenex than ever known to one human. He loves kleenex! His spirit astounds me. He struggles to cough or understand the 'how' part of it and then giggles. He simply radiates!

Back to reflecting on my life...... 

Presently I am in 'stuck' mode in my book writing. Really not sure why. I am surrounded by thought and emotion provoking people and situations daily. My children provide a plethora of ridiculous amounts of drama and excitement that I am certain I will never understand. 

My daughter whom we have prayed will return has decided to come back to her original crazy life. She is one of the most amazing human beings to walk the planet and seeing her face on a daily basis feels like fresh air. Ok, let me add here that we disagree in the Neal house like loud Italians. Yes, the neighbors are welcome to get a taste as we do not do quiet well. This meaning that adding my way-too-much-like-me daughter back in just makes our cul de sac all the louder! Sorry neighbors!  Or better yet, you are welcome for the money you will save not needing cable  - just watch the Neal's.

Our son that was planning on going to prom is undecided about the human he wishes to go with. My heart breaks and rejoices simultaneously as he seeks to find himself and be real. These two children, biologically mine, were never supposed to be. They were 100% miracles and the awe never goes away. I really get to be their mom! 

My daughter that has very little need for other people in or around her has finally found her place. She spends time out in a pasture with horses and ponies and says NOTHING! No words used at all yet she tells me they have things to say and she sees their qualities. Not only do I love her beauty but I love the beauty she sees that most cannot. 

At two and a half we were his eleventh stop, his forever family, my son continues to amaze us. He is so thirteen! All the moments I thought we might never see or experience with him we are joyfully embracing. He mumbles in the morning like some sort of zombie has taken over his soul and worries about his plans for the weekend. Sure there are other not so joyous moments and past trauma still haunts him at times but to see how far he has come baffles us all.

My twins couldn't be more opposite from one another. My little "Martha Stewart/Mother Theresa" is a care taker and avid baker. Her hearts desire is to see everyone happy, healthy, and fed well. 

Her brother is quite satisfied to be on the receiving end of the fed well movement in the Neal house as long as it involves a baked good. He loves video games, snuggles with mom, math, and all things sugar. He has crazy ugly days of pain that take over his entire being that the doctors are still working on fixing. The long process is in and of itself painful yet he happily presses on.

My youngest rules the roost with a fierceness. Her presence is without fail, known, heard, and felt. She is delightfully and passionately boisterous, she is a social butterfly, she is in love with the thought of her birth family, she is unique beyond unique. 

My son that is rarely heard from yet prayed for daily is heavy on my heart. His life was one of the hardest I have ever heard of and his trauma worse than I ever wanted to know of. Yet even through all of that he is maintaining and keeps in contact when he can. I so love him. 

My child a world away has yet to come home and yet to experience the Neal home and the hole in my heart for her is huge. I miss her every day.  

My husband loves God and people better than anyone I have ever met. His heart is larger than life, his desire to love well spills out into everything he does. He looks amazing in spandex and is one of the fittest men on earth. I cherish him and all that he is. He loves me more than I could have dreamed, puts up with my moodiness, loves each and every creature and human I add to our home as his own if even for a short time. His willingness to be all out there for the sake of love and the sake of people is far beyond anything I have ever seen in anyone else. I love this man deeply. 

As I reflect on all of this I really have a hard time believing this is my reality. It is wacky, busy, love wrapped, authentic, and all mine. I am exceptionally fortunate!

What does one do when the passion in their heart is fierce and the desire to help people comes from deep within their soul? I suppose there is the choice to do nothing, to shove those emotions down, to run fast from the calling on your life. I, personally cannot do nothing, shove emotions, and as far too many know I can't run to save my life.
Follow the path laid before me is what I will cheerfully do. That path has and I assume always will be loving people, broken and wounded hearts wrapped in human shells in desperate need of compassion.
The Neal doors are soon to be open to the smallest of these people as we welcome foster children once again. Abounding excitement fills our home as we wait to meet our first guest. My children fill me with awe and amazement as they joyfully ask "when will we be setting another place at the table".
Here at the Neal house we do some things really well, loving people is one of them and yes, we know that crazy is another.
Our hope and prayer is to not only provide refuge for a wee one but be of help to an entire family, to use our experience, our training, and our hearts to take every step toward being a vessel for change.
What?! I thought the Neal's were adopting?!
As we faithfully walk down the long road of adoption (again), bringing our little girl home, we will open our lives and home to others in immediate need.
Our support system of family, friends, and neighbors blows us away as we have shared this news. To say we are blessed beyond measure is an understatement.