$283.77

Generosity breeds generosity.  This I am sure of.

Meet our friends the M's.  This family dove head first into the adoption world last year.  After deciding to adopt domestically, they endured the heartbreak of a failed adoption before their littlest guy A was born and came home with them, his forever family.

Since then, their eyes have been opened to the plight of the fatherless both here and around the world.  They are currently pursuing another adoption of a sweet brown skinned beauty (or maybe two), only internationally this time.

Although they are facing the tremendous costs of their own adoption, they keep a jar on their counter called the "Adoption Jar".  In it, they collect spare change and put money in it when they are consciously making a choice to forego a treat such a coffee or a meal out.

Their children have gotten very excited and involved.  They look for spare change on the sidewalks and in couch cushions and have at times chosen to donate some of their hard earned chore money to the jar.

Every so often, they choose a family in the adoption process or an orphan related cause to give the contents of the Adoption Jar to.

Then they take the empty jar and start all over again.

We enjoyed the M's company for dinner last Sunday and had no idea what they had in store for us.

$283.77 towards the cost of bringing Mrs. Nesbit home.

I was blown away and full of emotion when they unveiled it.  We are grateful beyond words and our kids immediately wanted to start a jar of our own.

Generosity breeds generosity.

God's math

I have written about the crazy unusual timing of our decision to adopt a child.  By the world's standards, it made no sense.  My Beloved changed jobs and left the company that had a $10,000 reimbursement benefit toward adoption and gave up his company car.  We had just emptied our savings on refinancing our house as well as buying a new(er) car for our family.

We are known by those who know us well as pretty financially anal conscious.  We plan ahead for things we want to purchase, track our monthly spending carefully (envision DETAILED Excel spreadsheet), and other than our home mortgage, we haven't carried any debt in our fourteen years of marriage.

I'm not bragging, but that was an important detail to my story.

So here we are, new job, cash poor, and deciding to adopt a daughter with special needs from China.  To us, that kind of decision could only come from God.

I have been very open with others from the beginning of this process that I am FREAKING OUT very worried about where the money for the adoption expenses will come from.  Really, we had just accepted that we were going to be taking out a loan for the thousands of dollars of adoption costs.

Accepted is a bit of an overstatement.  I should say that we realized while kicking and screaming and throwing a toddler-sized hissy fit about it.

But, pretty soon, we were in too far to quit.  People kept reassuring me that God would provide for this.

Blah-blah-blah.

After a pastor (and friend) at our church told me of several ways that God had provided for their adoption costs years ago, I quickly countered with, "That's great Eric.  But you're a PASTOR.  It is SUPPOSED to happen to you.  I believe that God does these things, I just don't believe that He will do it for us!  We're just 'regular Joe's!  My husband has a good job that pays our bills, and we live in a nice place, but we don't have the money to pay for a $20,000+ adoption without going into debt."

Lord, help me with my unbelief.

I believed that God thinks that adoption is a good thing.  I believed that He laid it on our hearts for a reason.  But I thought we would be on our own to figure out the financing.

Our homestudy was approved in July, at which point we were responsible for the next portion of payment in the process to the tune of $3,000.  We didn't have the money and we decided to wait until we had all of our documentation ready to move forward before we took out a loan to pay it.  Unfortunately, I was informed by our lovely non-human government that we would likely see the page of October on the calendar before we would receive this lovely $890 piece of paper in our mailbox.

Between July and September, we made significant household cutbacks.  Bye-bye cable television, meal plans, hand-me-downs, etc.  No extras around here.

Two Saturdays ago, my Beloved and I sat down to look at our Excel spreadsheets from the summer and put together a plan for moving money little by little into a savings account for adoption expenses as they came in.  We didn't want even one extra dollar just to be absorbed by the miscellaneous expenses paid out of our checking account.

We were expecting to be able to put some money in there, we each had a number in our head of how much we should be able to save after expenses.  We don't have huge amounts of surplus income each month, so both of our predictions were only a portion of what we already owed.

After studying our checking account and comparing it with our budgetary tracking, we realized that there was exactly $3,000 waiting to be moved out of our checking account.

Isn't that just like God?  Not $2,800, not $3,150.  Exactly the amount on the adoption invoice waiting to be paid.

My Beloved is a numbers man.  When the budget is finished each month, I depend on him to make the pie charts and the summaries and savings decisions.

He looked over everything again carefully and made the statement, "I have no idea how we had that much to save.  I can't find it anywhere."

With plans to move the money on Monday when the bank opened, we went outside to take a bike ride with our boys.  Sweet Rufus went to get the mail from the carrier as we all waited in the driveway and he handed the stack off to me.

Nestled in the middle of junk mail and bills was a simple envelope with the return address "Department of Homeland Security."

God's perfect math.  God's perfect timing.

We were both a little shaken - my faith more than my hands.  My strong man looked at me and said, "I think we have just seen God move."

Amen.

The next invoice we see will be in the ballpark of $11,000.  I'm excited to see how God's math will add up for that one.

full swing

First day of school pictures are finally up.  This is the last year these three will go to the same school.  Rufus is in first grade, The Hunter is in fifth grade and Sauce is in third grade.

They were literally running to the bus stop.

  Until I made them slow down so we could enjoy the walk together.

With their buddy at the bus stop.

No tears from Squirt this year.  He happily rode home on his bike and enjoyed the day with Mommy.

twas the night before school

Twas the night before school started and all through the house,
Not a boy was stirring because the Melatonin knocked them out.
The backpacks were tossed by the door without care,
With hopes that no homework tomorrow they would bear.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
With the memories of sleeping late still stuck in their heads.
And Mom at the counter, and Dad on a trip,
Both prayed hard that all boys will flourish.

When out of the folders that came home from open house,
Came such a stack of papers Mom was forced to fill out.
She found her favorite pen and a comfortable seat
Because filling them all out would be quite a feat.

Names, grades, parents, and allergies,
Phone numbers, addresses, and who to call in emergencies.
Not so bad if it was just one,
But the three copies ruined the fun.

But she made it through every single last page,
Even though her wrist cramped like someone twice her age.
She let the dog in and locked all the doors,
Then prepped for breakfast so they'd be sure to want more.

She then climbed the stairs with the dog right behind,
And checked on each boy with kisses to remind
That these years are short, though days are long for the parentals,
And someday she would look back and be quite sentimental.

She collapsed into bed and gave a big sigh,
And drifted to sleep to a fan turned on high.
But when the alarm rang, she wiped off her drool,
And said, "GET UP SLEEPYHEADS!!!  IT'S THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL!!!"

don't make me come up there!

My man and I were fumbling with an attempt at hooking up a television antenna on our roof(something we're absolutely not qualified to do) between dinner and bedtime last night.

Mistake number one.

At first, the boys were just playing in the yard, screaming and laughing and having a sword fight with the weapons they were awarded as party favors at a birthday party earlier in the day.  Cut a pool noodle in thirds, stick a two-foot PVC pipe in the end, and ta-da, you have hours of entertainment for boys.

It started to get dark outside and we hollered to the troops to get PJ's on and brush teeth (as we were balancing a large television on the edge of a mantle, while managing marital harmony over a wire that was too short to reach where it needed to go).

I'm sure you can imagine that we were not able to actually follow through and reinforce our instructions until we finished the project-that-we-should-not-have-started-until-AFTER-the-kids-were-in-bed.

As instructed, the little angels trotted up the stairs and did exactly as they were instructed to do.

N.O.T.

We heard squealing, yelling, running, stomping, thwacking, giggling, whining, thumping, hollering, and screaming.

My beloved and I returned fire with threats of what would happen when we got up there if they didn't knock it off and do what we told them to.

Suddenly we heard the ruckus silence and drawers opening and closing and water running.

N.O.T.

This is why threatening does not work with parenting.  We were stuck to the problem television and they knew it.  They called our bluff and continued on with the wild rumpus.

We finally man-handled the wires and finished our project.  I headed immediately upstairs to man-handle my children, but was met with this:

To which I busted out laughing and went and got their dad. 

And the camera.

I don't even know what to say about the snake skin tucked into The Hunter's pajama pants.  There are no words, so I will just stop here.

the far side of the moon

That's where I have been.  I've been living life to the full, working hard to keep my priorities straight and make the important things in my life important.  Writing and blogging, although I love them, have fallen off the radar this summer because I want to chill work on my tan take lots of naps make the most of each day with my kids.

I'm sure you all have your hands on your hips in disbelief that I would announce such big news of our adoption and then go dark for weeks on end.  But I'm sure you'll also realize that mountain towns get about 45 days of summer (okay, maybe 50) and we are soaking it up.

In less than three weeks, my mornings will surely look like this:


Well, minus my man cooking breakfast because that is just not his gift and we have all accepted that.  He does bring coffee to my bedside in the mornings though which is key to my day.

Anyhoo, we are still on the adoption paper chase and are waiting on the federal government to issue our I-797, which is will be the last major piece to our dossier to China.  We would be thrilled if we could have it all wrapped up and submitted within the first month of school.

Our boys have been asking what we will name our new sister, and instead of answering them, we have asked them what they think we should name her.  They all have their favorites, but one fairly lively discussion was brought to a gut-busting halt when our comedian Rufus chimed in, "I think we should name her Mrs. Nesbit!"

Exhibit A that my kids have overdosed on Toy Story:


So, until further notice, our daughter waiting in China is lovingly referred to in this family as Mrs. Nesbit.

I will try to be back soon.  But I can't make any promises.

paid in full

GOD

IS

STILL

IN

THE

BUSINESS

OF

LIFE

CHANGE

Baptism Sunday at Willow Creek Community Church.  My sister Amy, my mom, and my niece all chose to be baptized today.

It was a great day.