My husband grew up as the oldest of five siblings. After he left for college, his parents adopted another sibling group of five, plus a sixth foster child who was living with them and who became available for adoption at the same time. Several years later, they added the seventh, a little girl.

In 2003, the youngest of the older five kids (my husband and four others) died in an accident. Heidi was 21. Her loss was hard for everyone, not the least for the younger set of siblings, who were just beginning to hit their teen years.

As if that weren’t enough to bear, almost a year ago, my father-in-law suffered a ruptured brain aneurysm. We are so thankful to have him with us. My mother-in-law is managing his rehabilitation as she raises the younger kids.

Grief upon grief has piled up in the hearts of the kids – piling on top of the usual identity questions that adopted children face. Their stories aren’t mine to tell, but some of them struggle very deeply. Several are living with family and friends or in other places where they can cope with questions. Still, heart-wrenching crises happen as they grasp for ways to deal with life.

That is where we are today. Prayers are appreciated.

My husband and I have been house hunting for our move to the Midwest. We want to find a place where our kids will have the healthy community around them that they need. We’re also considering a place where my in-laws can move to be close to us and receive support as the future unfolds.

We found a place with a magical property around it, including an old apple orchard in need of tending, established grape vines, an old-fashioned clothesline, and a place to fish. The house wasn’t my style, but we thought we could fix that.

We made an offer, they counter offered, we counter counter offered, and, yesterday, they declined.

Bummer.

After events ranging from disappointing to horrible yesterday, my husband, who hardly ever sits still, lay there thinking for the longest time.

We’re going to be ok, as far as the house goes.

But I worry for my husband’s family. They need some relief. The kids need to know the deep, joyful love of God for them. They should be kicking around soccer balls and learning musical instruments and chowing down on pizza.

Life is precious. Love is the most important thing on the list.

And prayer gets answered. Sometimes it takes a while – an unbearably long while – but God listens.

I hope he doesn’t mind the listening, because he’s getting an earful today.

Love to you all.