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THE PARENTING DARE BLOGI love, love, love mothers.
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I am a fool for St. Faustina. She is easily my favorite saint. Why? Because of her trust and confidence in Jesus. When I read her diary, I become more confident in my Jesus. Everything becomes radically simple.
I love love love St. Faustina. Today is Palm Sunday, which means this week is Holy Week. On Good Friday we get to start the Novena of Chaplets to Divine Mercy, the most powerful of prayers. Jesus Himself dictated it to St. Faustina September 13-14, 1935, for you and for me.
The Novena ends on Divine Mercy Sunday, “On this day the very depths of My tender mercy are open. I pour out a whole ocean of graces upon those souls who approach the fount of My mercy...Let no soul fear to draw near to Me, even though its sins be as scarlet.” (Diary, 699) I have been personally astounded by the grace given to our family through this prayer. I praise and glorify Divine Mercy for all the graces showered upon us through this novena. To help inspire you to practice this devotion to The Divine Mercy of Jesus, I will share just one way our life has changed because of this prayer. This is our adoption story! Our biological daughter, Bridget Therese Doerneman, was born in January of 2003. She was due in February, but because the umbilical cord was wrapped twice around her neck, we induced her a month early. She was itty bitty, 6 pounds, 9 ounces. (I usually gave birth to ten pounders.) She never really crawled or scooted or sat up. It was exceedingly worrisome for me. Bridget’s sickness was a massive gift, though. Through it a friend of mine suggested we try a powdered nutritional supplement. Bridget sucked it down and got better. I began drinking it and wow, I actually had energy. I knew I would never ever be without it. So I began a business with Reliv International. I soon learned that I am two things: highly competitive and a natural salesperson. I felt like a dealer because the stuff works so well that no one wants to live without it, which is kind of a win-win situation in business. By 2007, because of Reliv, we were at a stronger level of financial, physical and emotional “success” within our family; we wanted to see if we could expand into “significance,” a level of life that teased me with its ideals. So we did what Christians do: we prayed about it. So on Good Friday in the year of 2007 we began our “Novena of Chaplets to The Divine Mercy” and, as a family, we prayed to be used for a purpose bigger than ourselves. During the last few days of the novena, Russ and I were in St. Louis, at a specialized training with Reliv-International. Now, much about that weekend was business-focused. Yet I was praying so fervently about How To Be Used by God. At one point, after supper, we were in a bus touring downtown St. Louis. It was gorgeous out and I just sat in that bus, with my head tilted back, my eyes and heart wide open; my prayer felt like streams of light coming out of the depths of my soul, "Use us, Lord, use us. We have much to give. What can we do to further the kingdom? Use us.” I felt incredible peace descend upon me at that point. It was one of THOSE moments. The next day we were in training, and we met a couple that had adopted 18 children. I was not exactly taken by the idea; in fact, I kept thinking that they might as well just add a padded room to their home because that is where I’d spend my day if I had another 18 kids. The daddy talked about how he had made beds for all of his little girls and how he had painted the word “Princess” on their headboards, and I was like, uh, princess or no, that is a LOT of crazy. I looked over at Russ, knowing he would laugh as I rolled my eyes, but he was sort of crying and moved and gushy. Really? REALLY? We ran into the couple later that evening and since I have a hard time with subtle, I just said, “I enjoyed your story but can I ask you a question?” The mom, AnnieLaurie, nodded as I went on, “I was one of eleven kids and I know the chaos that kids create. Why in heaven’s name would you adopt 18 more?” She looked at me kind of hard then replied, “Lori, I don’t do it for you. I don’t do this for anyone’s approval. I do it because God asked me to. And these kids are no longer in cribs in foreign countries. They now have a roof over their heads, they are going to get educated, and they will be raised in a Christian family with lots of love and support.” She paused and looked at me, I mean REALLY looked at me. Then she reached down into her bag and pulled out a photo book of their children. She opened her book and began to lovingly describe each child and how they had come into her family. As I looked at the soft eyes of the most incredibly diverse children, my hard heart cracked open. When I looked up at my new friend, I saw her with the heart of God. She was gorgeous. When we left St. Louis we were asked what we got out of the weekend. Russ responded with, “I’m not sure how, but more children are in our future.” Post Script: { I know I am jumping ahead, but a couple weeks after we adopted, I called this mom to tell her thank you for that little picture book because it had pierced into my depths and prepared me for what was to come. She paused and said, “Lori, I never take the photo book anywhere, but when I was packing for the weekend I felt the Spirit of God tell me to pack it and that I was to show it to a mom. When I saw you, I knew you were the one that needed to see it.” } We returned home from St. Louis on Divine Mercy Sunday, 2007. Our novena had ended, and we wondered how God would answer our prayer. The next morning, amid laundry and reconnecting with my children, I received a phone call from a woman by the name of Michaela, who was a member of our church, St. Elizabeth Ann Seton Parish in Wichita, Kansas. She explained that she was calling me because I was the president of the Babysitting Co-op and well, she had a big question to ask me. “I know you and your husband have a lot of kids already, but would you be interested in adopting a four-year-old girl? Or would you know someone else who would be?” I asked her some questions, and she told me some basic facts. The little girl was African American, cute as a bug, had been fostered then adopted by one woman who was no longer able to care for her. I told Michaela there was zero chance that we’d ever adopt, but I’d put out some feelers. I called a couple of people whom I knew dealt with infertility. None of them were willing to adopt a four-year old. They wanted an infant. With each person’s reasons as to why they could not adopt, my mommy ninja awakened. I imagined this little girl going back into the foster care system. My heart began to ache for her. I went upstairs into my bathroom. I am not sure how to describe what happened next because at the time, it was natural and normal and perfect. But thinking and writing about a Divine Encounter does not even come close to what actually happened, so I will just sum it up with this: God asked me to mother that little girl. I spoke my biggest fear. “Lord, what about the other kids? Could they be damaged? I have to protect my babies.” I immediately walked over to the counter and picked up the May/June 2007 edition of Faith and Family magazine, which I had not read yet. I opened it, and my eyes fell on this paragraph, “In the beginning, the couple had some reservations about the foster-care system. They worried that perhaps most foster children have suffered severe abuse or neglect to a point where they might become dangerous. Their experiences, however, have proved otherwise. ‘Yes, most foster kids have had rough experiences,’ explains Brittany. ‘But a consistent, loving, and stimulating home environment can really turn things around.’” Tears were streaming down my face at this point. I called Michaela back and got the number for Julie Samaniego, the woman who was helping place the little girl. Julie told me that the girl was still up for placement; her name was Malaysia, and her case was a bit unusual. She had not been abused or neglected; the person caring for her was simply old and was not able to tend to Malaysia’s needs or behavioral issues. Red flag. What kind of issues? She hoarded items and put them under her bed. She took toys apart and flushed them down the toilet. She wrote on walls. Seemed like normal four-year-old behaviors. If we wanted to find anything in the house, we looked under our four-year-old daughter’s bed. Well, sheez. Now what? I called Russ and asked if he could meet with me. I went to his place of employment, where he joined me in that parked car, and we discussed all that had happened, starting with the phone call from Michaela. We were both absolutely overwhelmed with the idea of adding another child to our home. We sat there and looked out at the blue skies surrounding us. All looked so perfect in the world. Were we open to parenting through adoption? Our hearts just trembled within us. We cried. We talked. We pondered. We knew God had been preparing us. We knew that we had prayed for something bigger. But we had never imagined this. I know this may sound odd to you, but we are from Nebraska. The Land of the White People. What would it mean to bring a black child into our home? Did we have innate prejudices? What would our extended family members feel and say? I don’t think anyone in my family had ever talked to an African American while we lived in small town Nebraska. There just wasn’t the opportunity. Would this child feel out of place with us? Was it an injustice to bring her to live with us? SO MUCH UNKNOWN. Russ went back to work, and we both just decided to pray and think and be open. When he got home from work we were both on the same page, scared out of our minds. We did not know the road ahead. Could we trust God? Was this HIS PLAN? Okay, so some of you might be asking, what is the big flipping deal? Just say yes already. Well, here is the real truth: I am not like other mommies. I have no compassion. NONE. Zip, zap, zero. I know why I have these issues. But here is the deal. So did God. He knew all. I trusted His Heart, the one that saw mine. “Russ, you gotta help me through the hard parts.” My husband, bless him to the moon and back, told me he would. So Russ and I asked our three oldest children, Eric, 13, Rachel, 11, and Mitch, 10, to meet with us on the front porch; we had some news to share with them. Russ and I sat on the porch swing; the kids stood in front of us, and we explained that we were considering adopting a four-year-old African American girl and we wanted to get their input. They laughed and said they thought we were telling them we were pregnant again. The boys quickly said that they would be fine with adoption. I found it interesting that my Rachel, a GIRL, asked questions. What would this mean? How difficult would it be? What changes would happen? We were honest. We did not have a lot of answers. Malaysia would come with her own issues. We would be relying on God to give us the answers as we went along. The children said they were open. We called Julie and talked it over some more. I didn’t want to adopt blind. I mean, it seemed only logical to see this girl and meet her before I agreed to mother her for the rest of my days. We decided to meet at Sedgwick County Park. Julie would bring Malaysia to play and our family could just go there and interact/observe before we proceeded to the next step. In the meantime, she gave us a picture of our potential new daughter. Be still my heart. On Tuesday, April 17, 2007, our family drove to Sedgwick County Park to meet our prospective new family member. I won’t lie. We were giddy. Julie Samaniego met us there and pointed out Malaysia. Oh my goodness, she was so beautiful. I stood back and simply observed. I watched the kids interact with her. At one point my Rachel came up to me and fervently whispered, "We are adopting this child. I want to eat her with a spoon and a fork." What we learned at the park: Malaysia didn’t talk much. She had her own unique noises and sounds. She had never been on a swing before. She was like a bee, flitting around, never quite landing. I saw that she had needs. I wondered if I could meet those needs. We went home and after the kids were in bed I called my mother. I told her all about meeting Malaysia. I told her what she already knew to be true. I was not the most organized of mothers. My kids were always looking for their shoes and belts and uniforms. School projects overwhelmed all of us. Why in heaven’s name should we add another child into that, especially one that might have truly great needs? My mom listened. She asked good questions. And then she told me that I would adopt this child. She was adamant. My mama doesn’t normally talk so fiercely. But she was Mama Bear Fierce. This little girl belongs to our family tree. She knew it. Russ and I kept talking. He said yes. Yes. Yes. I kept praying about it and here is the thing. I more or less heard/felt/experienced the Holy Spirit telling me that for some reason, I was His first pick to be Malaysia’s forever mom but that it was 100% up to me. He’d love me exactly the same if I said no. What freedom. I said yes. The next couple of days were a whirlwind. Julie had work to do on her end; she sat down with Malaysia and explained to her that she was going to leave her current home and go live with her “Forever Family.” Julie set up a “meet” at Exploration Place where Malaysia met me, Thomas and Bridget. (We didn't want to overwhelm the poor girl with all of us!) We had a home study done. Yes, that quickly. One concern I had was that we needed a bed for Malaysia, who would be staying the night with us THAT WEEKEND. I was busy and so I looked at the telephone and prayed, “Jesus, we need a bed. If all this is from you, I know you can provide.” People, I kid you not. The phone rang soon after that. A third tier friend, Monica, was on the other line and she said, “Lori, I heard you are adopting. Do you need a bed? Because we have an extra. I’d love for you to have it.” I am still grinning. Yes, I knew it would be mismatched. But it was still a prayer answered! Russ drove to her house, picked it up and came home. When he walked into the house he came straight up to me and said, “Lori, when Monica showed me the bed and armoire I wanted to cry.” “Why?” “Come look.” He showed it to me. The bed PERFECTLY MATCHED THE GIRLS’ SET. It was the same everything. Russ told me, "Lori, I feel like we are pawns." See, we play chess around here. And the pawn is the least powerful piece on the board. They have no real say in life. But if moved by a Master Chess Player, they can be used in significant ways and have the potential to change the game. My amazing husband went on, "That is what I want to be." After our family said yes to adoption, we spent several days getting to know Malaysia. Plan A was to have the adoption process take about two months, with Malaysia getting used to our family over that time period. However, every time I took her back to her house she cried. And my bios would be upset to have her go back. So Julie Samaniego waved her magic wand and moved up the date. On Wednesday, May 2, 2007, just ten days after we started thinking about adopting, the entire family went to get Malaysia and bring her to her forever home. She was waiting for us, all smiles. Ella, her adoptive mom and Chantelle, her adoptive sister, were standing there, so excited. After all the good-byes and major hugs, we put our soon-to-be daughter in the vehicle. As we pulled out of the driveway, Russ and I were completely off balance. What had just happened? One family had relinquished rights of their child, allowing us to parent. Our hearts were deeply troubled and anxious, wondering if we were truly doing the right thing. Russ kept looking at me and whispering, “This feels so odd.” Yet. We both knew it was part of a bigger plan. In the weeks and months some moments surprised me I would just cry tears of pure joy. I said over and over, "I am not worthy of such grace." Other times I just cried with the overload as we helped Malaysia adjust. I mean, think of a four-year old. Then imagine telling them OUT OF THE CLEAR BLUE that they would be moving to a new home, with a new mom and dad and tons of siblings, one her same age, all with white skin. There were different smells and different food. What helped us adjust? Well many things, of course. But whenever Malaysia would start going off the rails she would ask me to play “The Jesus song,” which was The Divine Mercy Novena in song. She loved it. April 2019: It has been twelve years since we adopted our little cocoa bean. She was Confirmed in the Faith recently and she took the saint name “Faustina.” I love love love this life we get to live! I invite you to pray the Novena of Chaplets to The Divine Mercy. This prayer is incredibly powerful. It begins on Good Friday and ends on Divine Mercy Sunday. Jesus to St. Faustina: “My daughter, tell the whole world about My Inconceivable mercy. I desire that the Feast of Mercy be a refuge and shelter for all souls, and especially for poor sinners. On that day the very depths of My tender mercy are open. I pour out a whole ocean of graces upon those souls who approach the fount of My mercy. The soul that will go to Confession and receive Holy Communion shall obtain complete forgiveness of sins and punishment.” I am a fool for St. Faustina. I love this time of year. I love this novena. Join me on Good Friday as we begin the Divine Mercy Novena.
1 Comment
Judy Horvath
4/14/2019 10:56:19 am
As usual your blog has me in tears! You are amazing, woman! Thank you for being so open to God’s divine plan.
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I'm Lori Doerneman Wife. Mom. Catholic. Idealist with 8 kids, keeping it real. Archives
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