Broken Miracle

On May 25th 1963 a baby boy was born in Tacoma, Washington. The circumstances surrounding his birth are a total mystery. What I know is that a few months later he was adopted by a man and woman who raised him to love Jesus and to lean on His grace. He in turn taught me. My dad has 2 mothers, the one who gave him life and the one who watched him live it.
On April 12th 2007 a baby boy was born in Kenscoff, Haiti. The circumstances of surrounding his birth come together in bits and pieces. I have been blessed to sit for hours on end with a mother, father and grandmother who brought to life the hours of that day. The fear and rejoicing that came with his first cries, and the months beyond. The heartbreaking decision made when they realize that the care he needed required so much more than they could give. He is joy and energy and life. My brother has 2 mothers, the one who gave him life and the one who watches him live it.
On February 19th  2009 a baby boy was born in Carrefour, Haiti. The circumstance surrounding his birth are sketchy. He was born onto a dirt floor, I know that. Somehow he fought and he survived. His first months were full of the kind of pain I will never know. His empty belly cried, even when his voice was too weak to sound. One day, in a breath and a moment he came into my life and everything changed. I became a mother, he was my son and there was nothing I wouldn’t do for him. Years passed and complication and human error took their toll. Person after person failed him. His first mother made a choice that broke her heart, I made a choice that broke his. In all those broken hearts sat a baby boy. My son has a mother who gave him life, Me, who watched him live it for a while and, somewhere out there, one who will watch and encourage him forever. God has a plan, He knows who it will be…I will trust in Him at all times.
On November 15th 2011 a baby girl was born. Every single second of the day are etched into my memory forever. From the frantic trip to the hospital in the darkness of night to the sight of the sun rising on the horizon as I held my daughter and introduced her to the world, I remember every breath I took. She has brought me joy when I thought I would never smile again. She has saved me from myself. She has changed my life and the choice that her first mom made that day is one that has blessed me beyond imagination. My daughter has  2 mothers, one who gave her life and me, who gets to watch her live it.
There is nothing in my life that hasn’t been touched by the broken miracle that is adoption. Our family does not exist outside of this phenomenon that is to love a child born of another woman. It is messy and painful and redeeming and beautiful. It is every bit of the Gospel, living and breathing with the Buettner last name. Mother’s day in our family is so much more than flowers and brunch. It is the love that is alive between a mother and her child, no matter how that relationship came to be. It is honoring the women who brought forth those lives and the ones who foster them. It is thanking someone who carried our babies for us while God prepared our hearts to hold them. It is breathtaking, immeasurable acknowledgment of Grace and blessing. It is God’s plan, in the midst of something messy, to build something beautiful. It is our family, it is our lifeline. It is our legacy and it is His story.

Never Once

There are walls around everything here. Walls and bars and chains. I wake up and look through the bars on my bedroom window each morning. I live behind a wall punctured by a heavy gate. Even the spare tire mounted on the back of each vehicle is held by extra chains.

All of those things are to keep safe from theft, from intruders, from all the kinds of danger and harm you can think of. They keep out the enemy. They are effective, sometimes too much so. The walls around my house are tall and on days when I feel like shutting this world out they make it easy for me to do. When I want to put up barriers between myself and the ones I am here to serve, the bars on my window provide the perfect hide behind.

There is no doubt in my mind that I am created for something, something big and beautiful, something that I can not see and yet my heart longs for. I don’t question my presence here, this is the pace I was made for. I don’t question by presence but every single day recently I question my purpose.

I beg God to use me while I hide behind my bars and walls of safety, and there are a million excuses on the tip of my tongue and a million reasons to argue why I shouldn’t do the very things He is putting in front of me. I like to present myself as willing, while always ready with an excuse as to why He shouldn’t send me. “I don’t speak the language well enough… The job is too big, the resources too small… I don’t have anyone to watch Annabel”. They go on and on. Days came and went and I did the easiest thing I could, I hid behind the walls and bars that surround me. 

2 weeks ago I figured that my time here is Haiti must be coming to an end. I couldn’t imagine it, I didn’t feel even close to finished with my call here but I couldn’t imagine any other way for it to work out. I was desperate but at the same time I felt almost like I had brought it upon myself. For almost 2 months I have been in a country with immeasurable need and instead of doing something, anything, I sat behind my walls day in and day out. What could He want with me here anymore?

And then, when all I had left was a desperate plea that seemed incredibly unrealistic, and the small bit of faith that had captured my heart so long ago, He showed His power once again. 24 hours after I wrote a rambling post about my needs more than 100% of the money that I needed to stay here in Haiti was in my hands! Not by any coincidence or even just by generosity of each of you. The provisions that God provided in that time were so much more than financial. Once again, though no power of any being but Him, I have what I need. The reassurance that He wants to use me even when I feel the most useless is humbling and incredibly encouraging. The burnout of this life is rampant but He is reminding me that I still have something to give.

I could never find adequate words to thank each of you who gave to keep me here. Every $20 that has enabled me to keep being here to keep being a mother. Today I sit here in our home, knowing that for the near future, I don’t have to worry about having the things we need. It is because of each of you, who chose to share the resources He has give you, with us. When the days I am discouraged come, as they always do, I will forever remember this season when He used you to remind me of His call.

I still have some of the stuff that He needs and never once has He left me to this life all alone. Today I will go outside of the walls and bars and remember why I am here, Who it is I serve and I will  pray for Him to provide the opportunity for me to be a blessing.

I absolutely hate that I have to write this post. I hate that all of my recent updates are asking for money. That is never what this blog was supposed to be. I want to share my life, unfortunately, right now this is my reality.

I am desperate. Desperate enough to do something really humiliating. Desperate enough to beg. I NEED HELP! I need to pay the rest of my rent and I can't. I need to pay the last $1500 for the year's rent on our house. If I can't pay rent we can't live in our home. If we can't stay here I will have no choice but to look into some very hard decisions.

I often times wonder what it must be like for the families who bring children to us, no other choice to look to. Tonight I let my mind wander to a very ugly place, sickeningly thinking of different options. What could I do with Annabel if I had to go back to the States to find work for a while? I can't even imagine. I honestly don't know if I would survive that.

I am working on putting together an awesome giveaway with amazing prizes but it's not ready yet. I need money right away. Is there anyone there who can help me, big time? I'll get the giveaway post up as soon as everything is arranged and anyone who donates now will be entered in that giveaway.

My hands are shaking and I feel sick, I dread posting this but I know that I have no other option but to humbly ask for your help, once again.

The Stuff He’ll Use

I wipe a lot of noses, a lot of noses and  lot of butts. Hours of every day day are taken up wiping noses and butts, most of which are not my own. I hand out snacks and kisses. I somehow make everything better with an off key song or a few minuets of stories and cuddles. Things that seems so small and insignificant somehow change the world for a little person.

I didn’t go the American dream route. I don’t have an education to brag about, no savings account to speak of. I don’t even have many friends left after the toll the last 5 years has taken. I don’t have much, I come pitifully unequipped but I come completely willing.

If nothing else, the past 5 years have taught me to come to Him with open hands and a willing spirit. While I am rocking one of these precious babies I don’t feel like I am changing the world but then that one lives and he gets bigger and stronger and he lights up in a smile when I walk in the room. No, I didn’t change the world but I changed his… That’s ok with me.

Now I see him sporadically. I’m not there every day but he still smiles when I come in the door. Now my days are filled with another. A little girl who seems so privileged to me. She’s never known life before I gave her everything I could. She’s never been one of a dozen. Serving her comes harder to me, it doesn’t feel as necessary. She needs my love yes, but it seems like the others need it so much more. Daily I push that lie aside, the whisper that says the hours I spend with her are less important than the ones I spend "serving” others.

15 months ago I said yes to a tiny life joining mine. When I did, I said yes to giving her everything I could. I said yes to teaching her the Truth, even when I struggled to understand it. I said yes to family, which means sometimes I put her above everything else that is demanding my attention. I said yes and so I chose to say it again, every day.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a struggle to love her, to commit to her. But when it means taking a step back from my passions, it is hard. I used to have hours upon hours to give to babies who needed love. Now I have one of my own. I still do my best to pour into the others but for this time, in this season, she is my mission field.

It is no less important than the mission that I have been on for the past years, but it is harder to understand and much harder to explain to the world. I live here through the support, both spiritual and financial, of you. Truly, you. The ones who read these words are the ones who enable me to be here. 100% of my financial support is given through this blog. You who read my stories, the ones that are “just life” to me, and see them as important. You, who don’t hold it against me when I go into myself and don’t share for weeks at a time. For over a year your dollars have allowed me to stay here.

Now I have to ask you again to believe in me. To believe in this mission that I am called to. I need regular monthly support to continue living in Haiti. Just $15 a month from you are what makes it possible and allows me to live here. Without it I won’t be able to and I can’t even fathom the idea. Leaving here means leaving, not just a part of my heart but all of it! It would mean leaving my daughter! I don’t even think about it happening, I refuse to entertain the idea, I am trusting entirely that I will not happen.

While I continue to seek His will for me here in Haiti I depend on you to give me the resources to afford that time. I don’t make the request without a lot of prayer and heaps of humility. It’s not an easy place for me to be but it is a necessary part of this life. I trust that there are some of you out there who have been called to be my sending force, who will agree to support me in this crazy life. While I pray for Him to fill my days with undeniable purpose, you do the same. Some are the senders and some are the sent, neither one more important than the other.

Every day I wake up in a room with bars on the windows, I breathe in the smell of greasy food and I take in the sounds of dogs, chickens and goats. I wake up and beg Him to use little broken me. I hope beyond hope that He will find something in me that He will use. Our sights, sounds and smells are different but I have no doubt each of us has the same longing desire, to have the kind of stuff He’ll use.

$15/month : $15.00 USD - monthly$30/month : $30.00 USD - monthly$60/month : $60.00 USD - monthly$100/month : $100.00 USD - monthly

An Ordinary Miracle

4 years ago an ordinary miracle occurred. In a single moment, on the cement floor of a tin roofed shack, the world changed with his single breath.

I wonder often what he looked like that day. I wonder if he was alert, listening to this mother’s whispers, recognizing the sound of her voice. I wonder if he had a head of dark curls that she kissed, I wonder how many times she counted his toes and examined him, declaring him “perfect”.

And I wonder, on that same day 4 years ago, what I was doing. I wonder if my heart skipped a beat in that single second. I wonder if, in that moment, something deep down inside of me knew him. I wonder if that was the day I started missing my son. I didn’t know that anything had changed but suddenly everything was different, because even though I had no idea, my son had just been born.

I wouldn’t meet him until 18 months later but on that February day in 2009 God’s plan was unfolding. His son, my son, was not in my arms on that night but he has always been in His hands.

                                                *Luc turns 2. February 2011

                                            *Luc turns 3. February 2012

The 2 amazing birthdays I shared with him were a gift that I will spend the rest of my life thanking Jesus for. Tonight, once again, he is not in my arms but he is still and always will be, in His hands.

Forever Faithful

I honestly had no idea how difficult the last few weeks would be. I didn't think it would hit me as hard as it did. Each day that brought anniversaries of court dates, broken promises and desperate, longing goodbyes, carried new and long forgotten emotions. It almost seems a blur, those days that I lived. I have no idea how I walked that road. Looking back I know it was by the grace of God only.

Tonight, one year after I said goodbye, a sweet friend sent me absolutely breathtaking photos of a smiling, happy little boy who used to be my son. My breath caught in my throat. How could that child be the baby that I used to rock to sleep? How could he possibly be so grown up? My heart aches and grieves for what our family lost when Gup left. All the dreams I had came rushing back in a split second and it was all I could to to choke back the tears. For a moment I let myself go back to that awful, lost, angry place I found myself in last year.

With blurred vision I left the office and stumbled home, wanting nothing more than to curl up in my bed and sleep it away, I switched on my iPod while I went about the routine of heating bath water and brushing teeth. The very first song that came on was one by Sara Groves called Less Like Scars...

Less Like Scars -Sara Groves

It's been a hard year
But I'm climbing out of the rubble
These lessons are hard
Healing changes are subtle
But every day it's

Less like tearing, more like building
Less like captive, more like willing
Less like breakdown, more like surrender
Less like haunting, more like remember

And I feel you here
And you're picking up the pieces
Forever faithful
It seemed out of my hands, a bad situation
But you are able
And in your hands the pain and hurt
Look less like scars and more like
Character

Less like a prison, more like my room
It's less like a casket, more like a womb
Less like dying, more like transcending
Less like fear, less like an ending

And I feel you here
And you're picking up the pieces
Forever faithful
It seemed out of my hands, a bad situation
But you are able
And in your hands the pain and hurt
Look less like scars

Just a little while ago
I couldn't feel the power or the hope
I couldn't cope, I couldn't feel a thing
Just a little while back
I was desperate, broken, laid out, hoping
You would come

And I need you
And I want you here
And I feel you

And I know you're here
And you're picking up the pieces
Forever faithful
It seemed out of my hands, a bad, bad situation
But you are able

And in your hands the pain and hurt
Look less like scars

And more like
Character

On year ago tonight I cried myself to sleep, arms and heart aching. Tonight I cried, a little bit too, remembering this time last year but I also felt strong, I felt alive and most importantly I felt cradled in His hands.

I still miss him, I always will. I still grieve the life together that we lost but my Forever Faithful knows, He knows!

Child Of Wonder, Child Of God

I asked to be captured and He answered my cry...