Mercy

**I'm going to be really honest this year and this post involves religion. If you can't hack it, consider yourself warned. I believe what I believe. the end.

I spent most of last year studying women in the scriptures. I didn't start out the year doing so, it just sort of happened to me. It felt like I just couldn't stop once I got started--I read entire books, went to seminars, emailed professors--I was on a journey.

Some of my study materials:
Women In Scripture
Women Of the Old Testament
All of the Women of the Bible
The Mormon Women Project
Women of Faith Vol.I
Women in the Scriptures

There are many stories to tell about what I learned, some that I'm still learning, but the following is one that I keep coming back to--I've decided that I'm going to share this one first because MORE THAN ANYTHING ELSE I've learned that women have to tell their story. No one else is going to do it for you, and there isn't anything worse than having someone else try to tell it for you after the fact [read: death]. I also know without doubt that we have to be truthful about what is hard and what is wonderful. There is strength beyond our capacity to describe when we learn from ourselves, from our own history, from our own words. I believe that the Spirit of God can direct our lives and can "bring all things to our remembrance for our good"--but if we never learn it in the first place or at least admit that we learned something, there will never be anything for us to remember.

The book, Women of Faith, details the experiences of early Mormon women. Many of them had little education, their lives are detailed in short but heart-felt expressions of faith and mercy. I have so many questions for them--mostly they can be summed up into "how?" "How is it done?"

Jack and Lachlan, this is a part of my personal history. My "how". I learned this lesson because of the strength of other women and the love of God.

What I Learned About Mercy
In 2010, I decided that I was done having children and for a truth I had made peace with it. I knew that for Jeff and I, our kids, and Heavenly Father that it was enough. I posted my thoughts here when I sold off/gave away all of our baby stuff. For two years I never thought about the decision again, but last February I read this book, Silent Tears. Actually, Jeff read it first and then said, "you should read it and then we'll talk." Well, after reading it I couldn't stop thinking about kids, opportunity, and privilege. It's not the easiest book to read and not be affected in some way. I just knew that we had the capability to do more, that we could make a difference for one more child.

I finally got the nerve to blurt it out to Jeff, "I think that we're supposed to adopt again." I don't know why I'm still surprised when he always immediately responds, "yup, me too." ...And then were both really thinking about it, but it was just "out there" because we hadn't made any plans to make this happen. By that, I mean, we hadn't saved a dime to dedicate towards adoption. This isn't a small thing. It's also scary to start thinking about what one more child would mean to our little family that was working and loving together so well.

But the feelings didn't stop. I kept learning from other women that life is sticky and scary, but also wonderful when we live by the Spirit, when we have an all consuming faith that some how He can make something wonderful out of a thought--out of inspiration. Just like He did for Hagar who is dying of thirst and pleads with the Lord to spare her son and she is taught to "see" the well. The Widow of Zarapheth who is going to eat her last meal, but instead receives direct inspiration to serve others--then feeds Elijah (and then goes the extra mile by taking care of him for the next three years). Amanda Barnes buries her son and her husband in an abandoned well at Haun's Mill, everyone is SO sad about what has happened that they won't even help her throw her own boy into the mass grave (what??!). In a moment of complete sorrow and desperation she prays for a way to heal her wounded son's hip and is given a level of intelligence and healing unknown by even today's medical standard.

Frankly, I can't even remotely relate to these experiences, but that's not what's important. I was listening. I was remembering.

I begin to see that two years ago, Heavenly Father knew exactly what I was thinking and feeling. His mercy and understanding allowed me to be finished. To let the anxiety of pregnancy and babies fade into the past--and what a blessing it was--I believe all along that He was giving me a Nauvoo. An escape to Egypt. Reprieve. Mercy.

I finally got brave enough to pray about adoption. [As a sidenote, if you aren't really serious about adoption you probably shouldn't pray about it because the answers can be hard and fast. It's been my experience that they will go directly to your heart and if you aren't ready it might hurt.] I prayed, "okay, I'll do this if you'll make a way. Show us how it is possible."

Faith proceeds the miracle. This experience has been nothing less. I'm not totally unaware that bringing Mei home isn't going to be a walk in the park. Adoption is hard. I used to believe it was for everyone. I can firmly say, that I do not believe that anymore. BUT, the act itself is merciful in the greatest degree. I believe that my Heavenly Father asked us to sacrifice one more time so that he could bless us with more mercy.

Mercifulness is a cycle. Mercy begets mercy begets mercy--and it will continue forever--or at least until we screw it up because we forget how it works.

Deep in my heart I wanted Lachlan to have a sister. I remembered a dream I had many years ago where I was a mother to two dark-haired little girls. I had written it off until I realized that mercy was going to make it possible. It wasn't a missed opportunity (also what I thought). I'm going to get to be a mom to somebody who needs me as much as I need her.

I know the Lord made this adoption possible. His power and mercy know no bounds and all we have to do to access it is have faith to reach out and touch the hem-- just the hem-- of His robe. He loves my little Greta and he knew that I would listen to other women--that I might just take their advice.