The beginning of our story...

Every adoption begins with a story...
Ours is no different.
But the story God is writing with our family now, didn't begin with happiness or the overwhelming joyous decision to adopt.
Our story began with death.

My husband is a firefighter/paramedic for a town of about 55 thousand. Luke said he loves his job because it enables him to help people in critical need; to bring rescue to those who have found themselves in really bad situations and may even die without intervention.

Of course, not every call brings him to a person fighting in a life or death struggle, but every call does come from someone who needs some kind of rescue that they cannot do for themselves. 

Luke has worked as a paramedic/fireman for over ten years. He was heading down this road when I met him, and I'm so proud of the dedication to service he exemplifies. But obviously, being a firefighter/paramedic doesn't come without challenges or pain.

And our story from 2013-2015 turned out to be one painful nightmare after another.

Here's how Luke recounts it in the words of the testimony he shared at our church last November:

"What is fair and just?"
I’ve never been particularly emotional, but I’ve always had a strong sense of what’s right and wrong. In my work as a firefighter and paramedic I’ve encountered some pretty tragic and devastating situations, but the worst of those to deal with was the loss of one of my own brother firefighters, who was on my crew. And it came during a period of 18 months in which we attended six funerals for active firefighters in our community.

My grief and the difficulty I faced in processing the loss of brothers on the fire dept, some personal situations, and some terrible calls, stemmed from that question; “What is fair and just?” 

As I wrestled with bitterness and the anger that it produced, my heart became hardened toward any lesson the LORD would have for me.

I want to say some things out loud, not to anyone in particular, but just because you don’t get a chance to say them in the moment:

I’m sorry that your husband died at 40 from an unknown heart condition and that your autistic teenage son no longer has a father.

I’m sorry you can’t work as a firefighter anymore because the last thoughts you had before going unconscious while trapped in a fire were, “I can’t believe this is happening, I can’t believe I’m going to die like this.”

I’m sorry that you were raped the weekend you moved to school, while your parents were still in town, and that the college experience will always have a terrible meaning for you.

I’m sorry boys, that at 8 and 5, you are fatherless because your dad died of cancer at 32.

I’m sorry that your dad passed away unexpectedly just a few days after he celebrated your son’s 1^st birthday.

I’m sorry that your friends ignored your last cry for help, and that you succumbed to the darkness of depression and took your own life as they were sleeping in the next room.

I’m sorry that although you spent a career of being there when you were needed most that no one was there when you needed them most, and you died alone.

 I’m sorry that when our brother grabbed your leg in the ambulance and desperately cried out, “I can’t breathe,” that you had to be the ones to try and vainly save him from a fatal problem that could not have been fixed had he been on an operating table.

I’m sorry that you were shot as a teenager but your greatest obstacle will be to overcome the lifestyle you were brought up in.

I’m sorry that when your husband left home as a volunteer firefighter for a call, the firefighter that returned was the Chief; and he did so to inform you that your husband, the father of your two boys, had been struck and killed on the interstate.

I’m sorry that when you were diagnosed with cancer, your family turned their backs on you, and didn’t support your choice for treatment.

I’m sorry boys that you will struggle with guilt your whole lives knowing that your dad died from an injury he sustained while playing with you, his two favorite people in the world.

I’m sorry that no one had your best interests in mind and that you were left in the care of an abusive person whose mistreatment led to your death within weeks and that the last days of your 3 years of life were filled with suffering, confusion, and a lack of love.

What is fair and just? These are all references to events I dealt with in that 18 month time-period. Someone tell me what could possibly be redeemable about these situations!

Now, I have a unique job that requires me to remove my emotions from the situation in order to make the right decisions and best solve problems. I was pretty good at it too, until the lines between work, brotherhood, and home life were terribly upset by some of these situations.

As you can probably guess by now, bitterness began to creep into my heart and grew and grew and grew until my heart was harder and more calloused than would ever be useful to my job.

In fact, during this time we also got caught up in a mess of a home purchase gone wrong and ended up with threats of lawsuit and a weak attorney.

The stress finally got to Susi as well and I remember her pleading with me one night to do whatever was necessary, to give up any amount of money, in order to get our family out from under some of the stress that was pressing down on us.

“Do it for us? Don’t you love me or the kids enough to give it up?” she said between tears. “Don’t you have any concern left for us?”

And with the same sincerity and resolve that I said “I do”, I looked at Susi and said, “All I have left is anger.”

That was it. The waves of tragedy had pounded me relentlessly for months and I was drowning. That was a hard place to be.

The thing about bitterness is that it robs you of compassion, and as you see more and more situations that need a compassionate response, the only response your mind can produce comes from that backdrop, that canvas of bitterness; and for me it was anger. And I was burning with it.

The problems of everyone around me were too petty, people were upset about things that didn’t matter; at least your friends aren’t dead!

I was running out of things/people to direct my anger towards. And praise the LORD that I was able to see that from that place, because I would have hated to see where else that anger would have taken me.

I sought out help and began seeing a Christian counselor. The lawsuit went away, the home purchase fell through, I was able to grieve, and some of the stress began to dissipate. But my heart was still hard.

And...

I couldn’t leave well enough alone! Due to the tragedy involving the young child, we had begun orphan sponsorship and through that organization I was referred to a book by the title of "The Locust Effect" by Gary Haugen. The book opened my eyes to some of the most grisly sins committed against children, orphans, widows and the poor.

I had lost compassion while dealing with a few of my own experiences and now, I was learning about all this other horrible stuff! That bitterness and anger were right there again.

Susi had begun the habit of playing Chris Tomlin’s song, "God of Angel Armies" while I had carefully put on my dress uniform for the many FF funerals and naturally I had come to despise it. I was spending my time getting ready trying to figure out what to say to these kids; “I’m sorry” just didn’t seem to cut it and “God has a plan” was too cliché.

One Sunday at church, I was surprised to see "His Little Feet" choir comprised of orphans from Compassion International’s program. They had a wonderful performance and powerful testimonies of the situations they had come from and where they were now. But at the end, guess what song they sang?

I was a mess, crying in my back corner pew. I had become so angry, so hard, so calloused, so bitter, that I thought my heart would never break again. But in that moment, my heart broke for those children; for the victims of injustice, for the situations they come from.

As they passed by to leave, the kids began giving high fives and as each hand touched mine the thoughts of where they could have ended up came to mind. Truly the God of Angel Armies had been by their side.

I suddenly realized that if my heart was burdened for the situations I had seen, how much more was my heavenly Father’s heart burdened for all the horrific things He sees, and cannot look away from?

This isn’t just my story; it’s just made up of the stories of many others, who I’d love to tell you more about; but more importantly, it’s God’s story: I was just in the middle of it and need to share it.

This was a very costly lesson... remember that it took me months after holding a child beaten to death to realize that my heart was far from God’s concerning the compassion I had for those around me who are hurting the most.

I thought the things I had experienced were bad, but they were nothing compared to the sufferings and injustices experienced by so many around the world.

Now, let’s face it; we all have or will wrestle with difficult situations at some point in life. We’re all going to have times when we are asking ourselves,

 “Why has this happened? How can God work good through this terrible situation?”

I don’t know what is redeemable about these events I experienced, and I have no other choice than to leave that in God’s hands. But I do know that through some of the worst imaginable situations, God has given the opportunity for His people to show up! Whether by bringing food, medical care, justice, freedom and rescue, or simply the Good News that Jesus has paid the penalty for our sins and provided a way for us to have a relationship with God!

This is why we do Safe Families; this is why we’re still in our small house; this is why I went to Honduras. We are simply trying to offer the menial things we have and let the LORD work through them as He desires.

As far as me though, these past two years ruined my life. I had my plans for a perfect house; I had my idea of what my career would look like, of exactly how I wanted to raise my kids, all these different things; and those just aren’t priorities anymore, once you see how they can all change in an instant.

But a long time ago I said that I gave my life to Christ. So maybe all these things really just helped me to get back to where I needed to be; to be giving my life to Christ. These things ruined my life, but they helped it to become GOD’s life again in a more genuine way... and though I fail, I try to honor that daily."

That's an abbreviated account of the beginning of our story... but good news, things just kept getting better from then! And I don't think it's because our life's situations have really changed... I believe it's because our perspectives have been radically changed. More on that, later!

We choose to share our story, because we want to give God GLORY for turning our pain into passion.

With joy in the journey,
Luke & Susi

In front of the sign at our church... that week`s sermon was impacting.