Mike Rusch

I started reading from Ashes to Africa at 11:00 a.m. this morning, and now it’s 6:45 pm. I’ve almost finished the book; however, I’m not sure I can finish the book. I know that doesn’t make sense, but I’m at page 156 and it’s about all I can handle without tears.

I’m always asking myself, what does the gospel look like in today’s world?

This story may embody the physical redemptive narrative of the gospel better than anything I’ve read in a very long time. Some may think this book is about their adoption experience, and to some extent they are right. However, in my opinion, what they have found through their experience has transcended into the redemption story of all creation.

What does it mean to enter into the story of redemption and restoration that is the nature of God? I think Josh and Amy Bottomly have a pretty good head start in this journey, and I think we could all benefit greatly to sit and listen to their experience. Frankly, I dare you to read their story because I don’t think anyone can return to “life as we know it” afterwards.

At Q this past week Tim Keel made the statement, “If you think Jesus died only for you and I to go to heaven, your God is too small. Heaven is the outcome; it’s not the purpose.” Unfortunately, too many times too many people settle for less than the full gospel as proclaimed in the message of Jesus. When someone moves from “believing to belonging” as the Bottomly’s state, life takes on a new mission and a new purpose.

Corrie finished their book some weeks ago…can’t wait to discuss it with her. I think I have a new understanding of where her heart is right now.

I am so encouraged to read their story, and I hope that I have the honor of meeting them someday. I know the gospel story is alive and well in their lives…now I’m going to go finish the book, if I can.

…for someone she’s never met, but is connected to already

link to video

If you’re adopting and waiting right now, this song by Aaron Ivey may both bring comfort, hope and some tears.

Here are a few comments from the ABBA fund blog on the story behind the song…

The most powerful song for me is “Amos Story” – about their son they
are adopting in Haiti. If you know Haiti you know that not many
adoptions are happening. Their son is there waiting for them. They are
able to go visit but they are waiting on the government to process
paperwork. It has been a long and incredibly difficult process. I know
only a small taste of that as we wait to bring our son home from
Uganda. I love these lines:

AMOS STORY
Aaron Ivey. ©2009 IVEYMUSIC. (ASCAP)

Another photograph to wrestle in my head
Another sleepless night on concrete featherbed
These thoughts of you like bullets to my soul
We’ve got to find a way to get you home

I’ll find a way to get you here
If it takes my fleeting breath
Another sunrise hits the ground
And it’s a dark lonely sight
Lightyears away I hope you know
There is somebody searching
For the way to get you here
dog days of summer movie
I will get you here

Throw the clocks away and run out to the street
We’ll fly to distant clouds where it’s just you and me
A day will come when all of this is gone
You’ve got to find a way to believe

I’ll find a way to get you here
If it takes my fleeting breath
Another sunrise hits the ground
And it’s a dark lonely sight
Lightyears away I hope you know
There is somebody searching
For the way to get you here
I will get you here

Close your eyes and dream of a better day with me
As angels hold you tight, may you sleep in peace tonight
So dream, dream, dream my child
Hear the whisperings of hope
It’s a song that you can sing, as you sleep in peace tonight

———-

You can listen to Amos Story on Aaron Ivey’s MySpace page or download it from the Between The Beauty & Chaos Album on iTunes

I was sitting at lunch with Matt Mooney this week and my phone rang with a caller ID that I didn’t recognize.

Matt commented, “that’s a Ft. Worth area code. That’s the only area code I really know”

I didn’t think much of it, and thought I’d call this person back after lunch.

Then the phone rang again. This time it was my wife, and I made the connection immediately.

The Gladney Center for Adoption has it’s home in Ft. Worth, and the next phone call we would receive from them would be news of our referral (that’s the first time we get to see a picture of our soon to be little girl).

I calmly (not really) told Matt I had to cut the lunch short, and off I bolted for home.

…not sure what happened next, but I was home and setting up cameras and getting the kids situated in front of the computer waiting for an email with a picture of a face that would change my life forever.

And then it came…

Honestly, I really didn’t know what to expect from my emotions, but there I was looking at a picture of a little girl I had never met, with a name I didn’t know, in a country I have never been to, who spoke a language (or was beginning to) I couldn’t speak, who had never seen my face and who could not look back at me…

But, she was my daughter.

How do you react in moments like that? I don’t know either.

Over the course of the next few hours as this new face began to become engraved in my mind, this knowledge moved from my head and become unconditional love in my heart. You see, once it reached my heart and then reconnected with my mind, my whole life changed.

Now there is a name a face, and everyday this little girl grows a little, speaks a little more, has new experiences, knows loneliness, finds joy and sleeps without knowing that I would leave immediately to be with her. I can’t think of anything I would not do for her, and she doesn’t even know who I am. But that doesn’t change anything.

I can not begin to even come close to explaining how much I’ve learned and experienced about God in these last few days. Both my understanding of love, of longing, unrest, joy as well as my understanding of what it may mean to be loved for no other reason than I have been adopted into His family.

Still not done processing this. In fact, I’m starting to believe that my life from this point forward will never be the same. Changed by a little girl thousands of miles away who doesn’t even know I love her…not yet anyway…not yet.

We were honored to host Aaron Ivey, Steven Bush, Jimmie Ingram and Philip Ellis to our small corner of the world.

Huge thanks to the band for allowing us to film the evening and post it to share. However, we will wait until the House Tour is over to post because we definitely don’t want to spoil it for anyone.

However, here is a sneak peak…

A couple of thoughts from me…

First of all, the evening left me speechless and broken, and my words here won’t in any way fully capture or express the evening. However, the evening has left me full of inspiration and hope, and even now (a week later) I’m still trying to process all of what was discussed. I really think my mind and hands will work it out through the journey ahead.

The band spoke and sang with an incredible passion that came through experience. They have obviously been deeply touched, and the stories shared that night also touched others deeply.

The beauty of their story? It’s authentic, it’s powerful and it’s something we can all enter into and be a part of. What is the story? Rescue and redemption.

They shared how close to their hearts that adoption is (it’s close to my heart as well), but they also shared how it’s close to God’s heart even more. They shared how the idea of adoption was first and foremost created by God, and how it’s one of the most powerful expressions of God’s love here on earth. And, I agree.

Additionally, the song Her Name by Jimmie was an unexpected surprise during the night. I don’t hear many songs about homelessness, but you can hear in Jimmie’s words that he sees past the exterior and sees what God sees on the inside (for video click here)

After the band had finished, there was an opportunity to sponsor a child through Compassion, and an incredible 11 children were sponsored. Truly unbelievable. That’s 11 children released from oppressive poverty from many corners of the world.

After everyone had left and we sat around our kitchen table sharing a meal with Bush, Philip, Jimmie and Aaron, the conversations continued as the early hours of the morning crept in. Their heart and desire to live out what they believe is powerful and inspirational. It is so clear that God is using their story to move mountains. What a joy to be a small part.

It’s my hope that the conversations that started that night will continue long after the band has left. It was an incredible honor to share the evening with so many incredible people who continually teach me new things about my faith. We all have such a great ability to make such a huge impact on the world around us, and the question now isn’t how we will, but rather if we will.

There really is no way to say thank you to the band for coming. It was a once in a lifetime moment and lives will forever be impacted by their visit. All we can do is thank God for them, their journey, their hearts and their gifts. It is changing the world one life at a time, and we our lives are richer as a result.

And, we are happy to know that Story is now home (read their blog), and our prayers are that Amos will quickly follow.

Would love your thoughts & watch for updates because the story is long from over…

——-

Other comments & thoughts on the House Tour

From Aaron - House Tour Bentonville

From Scott Page - Response

From Joshua Segraves - House Tour

From Amber Haines - Make art and give it away.  Un-numb a Culture

Make sure to watch the extend video of Philip & Kim Ellis’s amazing story about “Real Hope for Hai

Today is November 14th, and honestly I thought our little girl would be home by now…

I believe our house is just plain in a position of “stuck.” Actually, maybe not stuck, sinking in “stuck.” We are stuck in a hole and our only tool seems to be an anxiety shovel that we can’t stop using.

Another whole week has passed and that little square phone in my pocket that holds every song I own, tracks airplanes in mid-air and can tell me to turn on 502 State Street in Erie, Pennsylvania to find a Starbucks DID NOT tell me and CAN NOT tell the one precious thing I want to know.

…not a moment goes by without wondering if the phone that is ringing to get our attention is holding the only news we really care to hear…a voice saying “your court date is…”

…until it does we stand, we wait and hold tightly onto that shovel.

This morning is a Saturday like most Saturdays with everyone still asleep giving me a few moments of quiet. I’m sitting here with my Ethiopian sourced coffee listening to Matt Maher sing about meeting “a man who treated children like they were ambassadors to the kingdom.” It’s pretty cold outside and my iPhone is getting its periodic update to make sure I’m in synch with my life. It seems to be taking a while and maybe that is a signal that I’m more out of synch than I thought.

It is the season of Advent, but I have a personal advent taking place that is taking precedence for the moment. Advent, latin for “coming”, is this season of waiting and preparation (so tells me Wikipedia). However, my heart tells me that Advent is not just waiting, it is waiting with a deep and personal longing for an arrival. It is an ever present thought of soon, very soon, things will be set in place and made right. It is the anxiety that sits at the corners of my thoughts, and it is leaning in at the very moments that “waiting” just isn’t sufficient.

Friday is coming soon, but it is still so far away to someone who isn’t just waiting.

This coming Friday a small stack of papers will cross the desk of someone I’ve never met in a place that I’ve never been to before. In that moment, I will have no voice, no way to communicate my feelings, no way to share the tears that have fallen, no way to express how life is incomplete and no way to show the faces of the others who would do anything to be heard.

It is our prayer that as this small stack of papers is opened for consideration that a divine hand will guide the human hands that must apply their mark, their signature and their approval.

…and while that mark is applied I pray that a little girl who is alone and unknowingly waiting will be filled with a smile and the comfort that her mom and dad are waiting no more.

Because in this advent, a waiting moves to preparation which manifests itself in an arrival. It is an advent that sometimes looks exactly like a mom and dad reaching into a small blue box used a bed to lift out their daughter