trust

After nearly five months home from China, I finally put the time into creating Joya's "Gotcha" video.  For those of you outside of the adoption world, "gotcha day" is the term used for the day families are united with their child (got-ya).

Our adoption was and is an amazing and life changing journey.  It went beyond anything I could have imagined in the realm of both JOY and PAIN.

Although we are convinced that God had His hand on Joya's adoption and that she is perfectly matched for our family, we are equally convinced that this is NOT the way life is ideally supposed to be for her.

At one of our hotels during our stay in China, we noticed another family at breakfast wearing T-shirts that had the slogan, "Adopted By Design" on the back.  It implied to us that God designed adoption as a first choice for these children.

It actually angered my husband and it gave me great pause in my thoughts.

Adoption is a second choice for orphans.  It is a second choice to staying with each orphan's birth family forever.  It is clearly the result of a broken world.

No matter who an orphan's birth family is, there is LOSS and GRIEF in adoption.

But, over the last five months, I had one adoptive mom repeatedly remind me of the BEAUTY in the process.  And after making this video, I am far enough removed to see it.

Finally.

Because, as you can see, it has not been all sunshine and roses.  The transition has been HARD.  Our love was instant when we met our daughter, however, it took TIME to build our relationship and get to know each other.

And we are not done yet.

I was fearful to let her look back on the grief she has endured this year.  Up to this point, any reminder of China has only upset her. 

But maybe we both knew in our hearts that it was time to put together the memories.  I let her watch it and she stared intently at it and then looked at me and said, "SAD Lien Lien."  (She still mostly refers to herself by her endeared Chinese nickname.)

Then she smiled.

Relief washed over us when we realized that this did not re-traumatize her.  We have been working so hard to shower her with love and consistency - trying to establish coveted trust, that we feared the memories might hit the reset button on all of that work.

Personally, I think it had the opposite effect.  I think watching the road we have traveled together has encouraged her to hold more tightly to her forever family.  She has smiled more and been more affectionate in the last few days.

For me, it has completely renewed my COMPASSION for her and allowed me to feel pain for her that I had pushed to my back-burner as I have committed myself to the very tedious, daily work of mothering five kids.

I have a renewed perspective of adoption and the MIRACLE that occurs in the process.

And I am looking forward to watching the BEAUTY grow with time.

a perfect fit.

Over the weekend we accepted an invitation to socialize with a local family that we "knew of" but had never met until we went to China.  They also adopted a little girl that is just five months younger than Joya.

We had a wonderful time catching up and filling each other in on the ups and downs of our transitions at home, as well as the medical updates of our daughters.

While driving home, my man mentioned how sweet and mild mannered our friends' daughter is compared to Joya.  What was noteworthy to him was the fact that their daughter also fit the profile of the medical conditions we would have considered.

"She could have been ours instead of Joya," he said.

We both sat in silence as we pondered what a divine match our little girl is to our family.  She is naturally animated and LOUD.  I heard Sauce describing her to one of his soccer buddies today - "She's tough!" he boasted.

She is so perfectly matched to our large, active, and mostly male family.  It was yet another moment in this process when we recognized and were humbled by the fact that God knew who our daughter would be from the very beginning.  He was purposeful in placing her with us and gave us the gift of seeing it.

She was so clearly supposed to be ours that it brings tears to our eyes thinking about it unfolding any other way.

We are in the thick of navigating through the slow maze of medical diagnosis and treatment for her.  Her preliminary tests show that she definitely struggles to breathe properly at night, so her doctor postponed the surgery we had on the books in June for her face, and set us on the path of overnight hospital sleep studies (FUN!) and treating this problem first before any other.

I'm thoroughly frustrated with the fact that no medical office responds with any sense of urgency at all.  But I'm a mom on a mission to get my daughter the best treatment in the most favorable timeframe for her needs.

Definition - "squeaky wheel"

Our consistent daily routine has definitely helped her personality to blossom and our mother-daughter relationship to grow leaps and bounds.  Yesterday and today I had the opportunity to communicate with her foster family in China to let them know how great she is doing.  It felt so good to tell them how grateful we are for the advantage they gave her by being her first family.  Now that I know her more fully, I can appreciate the void that she left in their lives and I hurt for them.

They sent back a message to me of gratitude and relief that she is thriving and I made a personal commitment to send word at least twice a year for the next couple of years to try to ease their pain.

Secretly, I hope that they foster another child because they are clearly gifted at it.

small victories

I have a post written in my drafts folder describing some of the realities of how hard these last three weeks have been.

I don't want to forget how hard it has been.  I don't think I will, simply because I haven't been glossing it over to other people either.  Many people have asked me how it is going and I have been truthful in responses.

It is like nothing else I have experienced.

It is harder than having a newborn, for sure.

The days are pretty good, but we covet sleep.

It is just hard, but I'm looking forward to finding a new normal in my life, free of the newness, free of visitors (doesn't mean I don't love them), and in a solid routine.

I have tried to take the time to explain to several people WHY it is so hard, but the words just don't do it justice.  Part of the reason is that it is a uniquely lonely time.  There is no one that can come in and fix what is wrong, we just have to trudge on through.

I have been clinging to the knowledge that God works through the tough stuff in life.  I know He does, but I just felt like a constant failure.  We love this girl so much and there is so much hurt for her to overcome.  We can't do it for her.  We can only be here to help her through it.

At one particularly teary moment for me, I sobbed to a friend, "I know that God is here, but I don't feel Him.  I don't see His power in all of this and I want to so badly!!!"

Three things happened over the last 24 hours that gave me some peace and hope.

1.  At our couples' Bible study last night, while hashing through the topic of prayer, my eyes came across a note I wrote in my Bible long ago in 1 John regarding verse 5:4 ("for everyone born of God overcomes the world.")  At some point in time I wrote down a quote by author Max Lucado - "In your frustration you wonder where the power of God is.  Be patient.  God is using today's difficulties to strengthen you for tomorrow.  He is equipping you.  The God who makes things grow will help you bear fruit.  Dwell on the fact that God lives within you.  Think about the power that gives you life."

I'm being equipped.  He's with me.  And I'm grateful.

2.  We had a great day today!  Particularly, nap time  (which has been a time of panic, grief, and lots of screaming) went more smoothly than ever and it gave me hope that we WILL get there.  We played outside, read stories, laughed, and snuggled.  She jibber-jabbered more than ever to us (mandarin maybe?  two year old talk, for sure).  Tonight, she saw that my phone was sitting on Kenyon's lap and she leaned over and picked it up and said, "Mama, (then some jibberish equal to "here's your phone")!"  We all laughed at what a smarty pants she is.

3.  I read THIS by my sister in-law and felt comforted by the fact that she has been to a place much darker than I am right now and now she is on the other side with hind sight perspective and COMFORT.

She gave me the gift of comfort in darkness as well.

So, to sum it up - it has been hard, but it is getting better.  Small victories keep me pressing on with hope.

Easter was fun - but our family photo was pathetic.  Rufus was actually in a good mood but wanted to spoil the picture on purpose.  Sweet, huh?

She was sure cute though.

 

We rock rock rock to sleep each afternoon and night.

Our friends that we met in China sent us this.  We want this for her room:

the bond that heals

If you didn't hear me in my last post, let me just say again how appreciative we are for all of the support we are receiving.  So many people are pursuing us through phone calls and emails and face to face visits.

Of course, not one person can resist our daughter's cuteness.

She is magical for sure.

As she is exposed to more and more of our wonderful friends and social circles, I have found myself needing to put this post out there.

Joya has been put through a significant trauma.  She wasn't physically abused, but her emotional life was turned upside down less than three weeks ago when we took her from her foster family and her birth country and culture.

Although she greets most everyone with a "Ha-low" (hello) and has smiles and funny faces and songs that draw us all in, she is still learning who her forever family is.  If you have been reading our China posts, you know that initially she was clinging to Kenyon.  She didn't want anything to do with me for the first week.

Slowly, she tolerated me and allowed me to be the food maker, poop checker, and snot wiper.  But she still almost exclusively wanted her dad.

Now that we are home, she is not panicked when Kenyon is out of sight.  In fact, he is out of town on business for two days and she and I have made some strides.  She comes to me for her needs and accepts affection and comfort from me - she has even initiated affection toward me, which is HUGE to me.

When entering a room, 'normal' toddlers will usually hang back a bit and look to their parents for a 'read' on the situation.  They are cautious and will take cues from their parents on how they are to act in that environment, with those people.

Because she has only been with us 2.5 weeks, Joya still looks to everyone as potential caregivers.

Our main issue at this point in time is trying to help Joya to realize that we are her parents.  While we are so excited for everyone to meet her, I hope you will understand when we redirect her back to ourselves if she asks you to pick her up.  Please feel free to smile at and engage her, blow kisses and talk to her, but please resist the urge to scoop her up and squeeze her.

I know, it is tough to resist.

If she wants food, feel free to bring it to our attention, but it is really important that we be the ones to feed her or "deliver" her food to her.  It's not that we don't want to share her or that we don't want you to touch her.  It's that she needs to learn who her parents are and attach to us in a healthy way.

This takes time and we want to do it right.  We are hoping that you can all understand that we don't desire to be overprotective, but we want to prevent any long term emotional problems by doing this well.  When we see this secure attachment forming, we'll be encouraging her to have relationships with other adults as we do with our sons.

So, please come see us and enjoy our entertaining children!  We know you'll do nothing but support us and thank you in advance for honoring our request.

re-entry

Hello friends.

I can tell you that the number of responses we received while we were in China, combined with the requests for updates within the five days we have been home have been heartwarming and overwhelming.  Thank you for your love and support during this life changing experience.  We woke up every morning in China and would immediately boot up our iPad to see what you all had to say to us while we were sleeping via blog, faceb**k, or email.

You gave us a support network and a connection to "home," and we thank you sincerely.  We think your support is priceless.

Our experience is going to take several (many?) posts to do justice, so while I have your ear (eyes?), I will tell you that I intend to do so.  Be patient with me because between my body's (as well as my daughter's) lagging time zone acknowledgement, as well as managing FIVE kids, will require an act of God to get regular blog posts out to you.

Start praying people.  Um, I meant now... yeah, take a break and pray. ;-)

So, in characteristic form, this sleep-deprived post will end in pertinent bullet points devoted to the "need-to-know" (or maybe the slightly entertaining):   (YES, I LIKE USING PARENTHESES TONIGHT!!!!!)

• We returned to find out that our generous friends from various circles have signed up to bring us dinners every other night until the end of April (and one supply of rockin' frozen banana pancakes to microwave on my many my crazy mornings).  My dear friend Deb, who also hosted my awesome toddler shower in January, coordinated it all and we are just in awe.  Side note:  I am the girl who will NEVER turn down an offer for a dinner I don't have to make myself!!!  All we can say is THANK YOU!!!!  Such a simple thing helps so tremendously (especially for this non-cook)!!!
• My dear friend Amy, who first introduced me to orphans with my trip to a Russian orphanage in 2006, has offered (okay, agreed to) creating Joya's "Gotcha Video" because she is UBER talented on the video-making-to-drive-you-to-tears-and-cherish-forever stuff.  Now, I just have to mail her the jump drive with the 5 GB of photos and video.  Put aside your box of tissues now.  No, I'm serious.  Do it!
• My mom and favorite aunt were here for eight days before we came home (taking over for my only and cherished sister/BFF/soulmate to take care of our boys) and stayed until today.  We could not have made it through jet lag and Joya's crying nights without their help during the days.   How do you ever say an adequate thank you for such great sacrifices?  We are without words.  Mom - my husband is thinking of moving you in with us just for more of your sandwiches.
• Joya is doing well considering we have only had her with us for 15 days, counting the 4.5 days here at home.  My Beloved made an accurate observation that her "renewed" grief since we've been home is likely because she is so stinkin' smart (save for college or not?) and has pieced together the fact that she is now with the people she has seen in her photo book for months now, and realizes that she is never returning to live with her foster family.  She cries out in the night for her foster mom and expresses genuine anxiety and panic when she realizes that it is close to bed time (which we did NOT see at any of our stops in China).  Her grief is inconsolable and I am jealous for the newborn experience when I could comfort and nurse a child back to sleep.  Not so now.  I ride the wave and die to my own desires - purely by asking and receiving from God's grace (my BFF's will tell you that I am NOT a woman who functions well on sleep deprivation).  She has been through a pure trauma and I will not traumatize her even more.
• She is having GREAT days though.  Awake time is happy time filled with puzzles, playing, eating, and learning.  Very fun and we are really enjoying it - every one of us.
• The boys are LOVING it.  Kenyon has mentioned that if we didn't have the support of our little men for our new pink addition, he just might have thoughts of regretting the decision.  But he doesn't because he is just smitten with her in every way, shape, and form, and so are our men.
• Her attachment to her Daddy has lessened from panic to affection.  We both realize that it was really an attachment of safety and security, not of emotional connection.  That is okay with us for sure, but we are both looking forward to connecting with her in a GENUINE and growing love for each other.  It is growing and changing every day.
• I am so grateful for my in-laws and their willingness to honor my request to come from Pennsylvania for my boys' spring break.  These grandparents definitely wanted to meet our new addition, but they are going to be such a help to us while the boys are on break and Joya still needs quite a bit of attention in order to bond with her mommy and daddy.  My husband's mom has a special gift for cooking projects, treasure hunts, and group outings.  I asked, and they honored.  Again, thank you just doesn't cut it.
• I still have so much to say about our trip.  I want to tell you about the reality of adoption, the amazing organization "Love Without Boundaries", and the complete dissolving of our "American" impression of the nation and people of China.  So, at the very least, count on that from me.
• And pictures..... lots of pictures.  (C'mon, you know I love the shock value!!!)

wondering

To the bravest woman I know:

This is a unique day in our paths, for I am certain that we are both wondering similar things today about the same special little girl that neither of us are able to be with.  Are you wondering what our sweet two year old girl looks like?  Are you wondering if she will get a party today or open any presents?

Are you sharing my questions about her care and if she knows that she is an orphan?  Do you have any suspicions about what her future holds?

Are you remembering the moment you realized that she could not be yours forever?  I wonder about you all the time.   I wonder if you knew her fate before you gave birth, or whether upon holding her in your arms your tears fell because her gender or medical needs forced you to give her up.

Are you picturing the day you wrapped her tiny body in a blanket, placed her in a paper box, tucked a note with her information beside her, and kissed her goodbye?  I'm wondering if you watched from afar as she was found on the doorstep you left her on.  Did you ever walk by the orphanage hoping to catch a glimpse of her?

I'm certain that you are wondering about me as well.  Was your written request for someone to adopt her fulfilled?  Where is she in the world?  Does she have siblings?  Medical care?  Parents that kiss and cuddle her?  A warm bed?  A limitless future?

Whatever the reasons were for leaving her that day, I wish you could know that I think you are brave and I am grateful that you gave her life.  Whatever the reasons were that prevented you from being her forever mommy, I wish you could know that you will never be forgotten.

Because, although we can't celebrate with her either today, we will be with her soon and plan to celebrate many, many birthdays with her.  We will tell her what we know and as she grows, give her the freedom and opportunities to learn all she can about her beginnings.

We will fulfill your request to adopt her and heal her and open the lid to her future so that she can make whatever she wants of it.  We pray that she grows up to make a difference in the lives of others and make the world better, giving glory to the one who knitted her together in your womb.

My heart is tied to yours today as we wish Joya a happy birthday from much too far away.

Forever grateful,
Laurie

manna and quail

I have been told by other adoptive families that sometimes the life changing part of adoption is not necessarily the addition of a child to the family, but the process of getting to that point.  We are about two months away from our travel date, and I am gaining clarity that the process is life changing for me.

I have touched on the financial aspect of this adoption being a major source of stress and strain (very common for adoptive families).  The timing was terrible from a personal planning standpoint, and I had very little trust from the beginning that God would PROVIDE.  I went into this thinking we would have to be creative and work hard to pull together the finances ourselves.

Ten months into our adoption journey, I have finally come to the realization that God has been gracious to give us just enough.  He has met every invoice with just enough money in our adoption savings account to pay it.

It started about two months into the process.  I was telling someone close to me about the stress of paying the home study fee of $1,400.  We were really only dipping our toe into the adoptive waters where fees were concerned, but it felt like a ton of money and I really didn't know where the rest was going to come from.  A week later, a check for $500 arrived in the mail with an encouraging note telling me how much this couple wanted to be invested in our adoption because of their great excitement for our future daughter.

We were blown away.  I felt so loved, but I didn't realize that this was just a glimpse of the waterfall of financial gifts that were to come:

• A sweet friend showed up on our doorstep and said their family wanted to be involved, handed us an envelope, hugged us, and left.  We opened the envelope to find it contained $1,000 cash.
• Our friends chose us to be the recipients of their adoption jar and surprised us with $283.77.
• A friend who doesn't even know me that well, offered me ALL of her airline miles for our trip to China.
• Out of the blue, a close friend of my husband's sent us a card with a message explaining how our decision to adopt had touched his family.  Inside the card was a check for $500.
• My sister and my step-mom held a fundraiser for us in the Midwest.  Last I had heard, they had raised somewhere around $500, which was unexpected and amazing.  When Amy visited in December, she presented me with the final check - $1,365.
• The very first people who sent the $500 check came back and offered us an interest-free loan for any amount if the need should arise.
• Someone else very close to us contacted us and offered to pay for a significant portion of our travel expenses.
• In addition to babysitting for us free of charge countless times, my neighbor collected spare change and coffee money into a vase on her countertop throughout the summer and fall.  Over Christmas break, she brought us over $87 to contribute to bringing Joya home.
• I opened a Christmas card and a check for $1,000 fell out of it.  There was even a heartfelt offer to contribute more if we need it.
• I opened another Christmas card and a check for $200 fell out of it.  They included a note expressing the excitement this family shared with us across many miles.

Shortly before Christmas, I wrote a check toward our adoption costs for $10,860.  I moved the money from our savings account where all these contributions were deposited and waiting with the money we saved each month.

And there was just enough.

We don't have any idea where the rest of the money for our trip will come from.  To be honest, we've spent time drowning in the stress of it all and succumbed to some major marital arguments about it.  I'm sure Satan had a party that day, because after all that I had seen, I still doubted.  I still wanted control and security.

Today I was pondering the lesson that God has clearly been teaching me.  The gap in my faith at the beginning of this journey is glaring to me now.

I opened my Bible to Exodus chapter 16.  "Then the Lord said to Moses, 'I will rain down bread from heaven for you.  The people are to go out each day and gather enough for that day.  In this way I will test them and see whether they will follow my instructions.' "  It goes on to tell how God provided quail (in the desert, go figure) each evening and Manna each morning - but only just enough for their immediate need so that they would continue to depend on Him.

Some of the Israelites collected more Manna than they needed, therefore disobeying God's instructions to depend on Him to provide food each day (trying to take over control).  "However, some of them paid no attention to Moses; they kept part of it until morning, but it was full of maggots and began to smell."

I am now confident that if we began our adoption with the funds ready to write checks for all the costs, I would have relied on our own abilities and resources and NOT God's provision.  My heart would be inwardly focused, crawling with maggots, and foul with smell.

I would not have been transformed into a more generous person either.  I'll be honest and say to you that I doubt I would ever show up on a friend's doorstep and hand over $1,000.  That example of sacrificial generosity showed me the person I want to be going forward.

But apparently I needed to be the recipient of such generosity in order to learn the importance of being the giver.

My responsibility is to do my best with what I have been given, with both possessions and talents.  But, first and foremost, He wants me to depend on Him for each day, for each invoice, for each unknown, and for each fear.

I'm thankful that He has withheld abundance in this part of our adoption.  My life is so abundant in many ways, but He has given us the GIFT of a picture of being in the desert, doing what He wants us to do, totally dependant on Him for what is next.

He has given us just enough.

her story - part five

Go here for PART ONE.

Go here for PART TWO.

Go here for PART THREE.

Go here for PART FOUR.

Our journey to being matched with our daughter had resulted in fulfilling confirmations of our decision to move forward.  We shared the news to everyone we could think of and sometimes just sat dreamily with smiles on our faces while we felt the love in our hearts grow for our daughter.

I mentioned previously the "compressed air" feeling of my emotions toward her, but my man described it perfectly (and hilariously) during the days immediately after our announcement.  "I feel like the Grinch at the end of the movie when his heart starts pounding and his emotions knock him on his rear."

It starts about at about 1 minute 30 seconds in this clip.

Oh how I love my Grinch.

I was recently reconnected with an old high school friend who is adopting from China and was just matched with her daughter as well.  We have exchanged some emails and she told me that she found out the meaning of her daughter's Chinese name.  I realized that I had never even thought to ask about the meaning of our daughter's name, so I wrote to the person at our agency who is Chinese by birth and fluent in Mandarin to ask her to translate for me.

"Rough and tumble", "stands with a fist", or "takes no crap from brothers" would have been perfectly appropriate translations and would have made me confident that she will fit in around here just fine.

But the reply I received was more perfect than anything I could have made up.

Her Chinese name means "In the light of winter".

Seriously, if you've been around for very long on this blog, you know that we live in (what feels like) eternal winter.  Our summers feel like other regions' winters.  In fact, we don't really put out winter clothes away, we just take some shorts and t-shirts out to add to the mix.  We smiled when we realized that our sweetie was made for winter.

Predictably, the cold weather and snow started to blow into our mountain town and in the coming weeks, I had the chore of changing out everyone's summer and winter clothes (well, really just putting away shorts and sandals), including my own.

I came across a treasure that I received nearly 15 years ago to the day.  My dear friend Karen and I met early in our freshman year of college and have always been close.  On the outside, Karen and I can appear quite different.  She like bare feet, I like shoes to protect my soles.  She likes big cities, adventures, and risks into the unknown.  Me, I like small towns, well planned out trips, and certainly knowing what I'm getting into.

On the inside, Karen and I are quite similar and where we differ, we very much compliment each other.  We have shared many cups of coffee and bottles beer over the years sharing our dreams, passions, and lots of laughter.  I am so thankful that we have not lost touch in the 15+ years since we graduated from college and I'm sure that we will still be calling each other in 25 years to share laughter over the births of our grandchildren and sorrows over the loss of loved ones.

When we graduated from college, Karen chose to spend two years in the Peace Corps.  I remember being in the campus library when she came bounding in to tell me where she had been assigned.

"I'm going to China!!!" she told me with a hug and a smile.

And she did.  She spent two years in China at the foothills of the Himalayas teaching English to Chinese high school students.  Although my kids find it hard to believe, we didn't have email during those days, so Karen and I were faithful pen pals across that tremendous ocean.  In the fall of 1996, she mailed me a beautiful piece of artwork from her new home.

This beautiful scroll is a wall hanging that I have kept with me for 15 years.  I have moved it many times from one home to the next, and always had it tucked in a safe place.  In fact, my husband (the de-clutter freak) has suggested many times that I get rid of it because I've never had quite the right place to hang it.  I refused every time, saying that I didn't care if we never hung it up, I would keep it until my dying day because it was dear to me.

Little did I know how dear it really was.

As I was taking out my sweaters and putting away my shorts, I saw the scroll peeking out from the open bin from underneath my bed.  I have looked at it many times in 15 years, but this time I had new eyes to see it with.

The pink flowers and Chinese writing instantly made it the perfect centerpiece for Mrs. Nesbit's bedroom.  I was excited to bring it out and start planning her room around this precious keepsake.

But it gets better.

I have never detached the note that Karen sent with her gift.  I have read this note so many times, but again, with new eyes, I was able to see that God had planned this perfectly.

"October 24, 1996.  Laurie, I like to think of a piece of China hanging on your soon-to-be own apartment wall next to your photographs from all over the world.  The words at the top are a poem that talk about a man who is far away from home that misses his friends and family.  I cannot begin to express how much I long to have you near.  Think of how much I love you when you glance at the plum blossom.  My friend described this winter flower as 'the one that comes out when the others go away.' Always near you, Karen"

Immediately, my eyes filled with tears as the goose bumps formed on my arms.  In all the times I have read this note simply to feel close to my dear friend who has since lived far away from me, never did I dream that the note spoke of my daughter!

Joya will suffer grief in some form as a girl stretched between two continents.  Her love and loyalties will be challenged and distributed.  Although right now, she is lucky enough to be in a loving foster home from just days after she was found, the painful part of that is that she has no idea that she is an orphan.

When she is placed into our arms in a few months, she will not feel relief that she finally has a family.  She will justifiably feel confused and angry and ripped from the only family she has known.  The family she loves.

But we will wait for our little plum blossom to show herself.  We know that she is the winter flower that will blossom with us when the others go away.  We will patiently endure her emotions through the transition and growth into connection with her new family.

Her forever family.  Our family.

her story - part four

Go here for PART ONE.

Go here for PART TWO.

Go here for PART THREE.

After making the decision to be Mrs. Nesbit's parents late on Sunday night, I don't even need to mention how hard it was to sleep.

I had a very busy Monday on my calendar, the bulk of which I was scheduled to be at Squirt's preschool.  We were up bright and early printing pictures of Mrs. Nesbit for the boys to take to school to show off.

But first we had to tell them.

What a fun experience.  They were all eating breakfast and my Beloved and I said that we had a big surprise for them.

"Is it a Wii?" one asked.

"It is better than a Wii," we answered and added, "And we are not a video game family, so don't plan on a Wii arriving anytime soon."

"Are we going on a trip?" a second boy took a guess.

"Well, 'we' are (indicating Mom and Dad), but 'we' aren't (motioning to the entire family)," I replied.

At that moment, their proud dad turned his laptop screen around toward them revealing her sweet face.

"Hey, I've seen that picture before!  Who is that?" Sauce chimed in.

"That is your baby sister!" we excitedly told them together.

Excitement and laughter and questions about her quickly filled our kitchen.  We told them everything we knew about her and what her new name would be in our family.  All four boys, who had the words 'Mrs. Nesbit' firmly ingrained in their vocabulary, symbolically left her orphan status in the past by immediately ditching the nickname and have referred to her by her real name ever since.

"Aw Mom!  I wish we could go get her tomorrow!"

"Me too buddy.  Me too."

They all tenderly put the pictures into their backpacks and anxiously headed off to school to show her off.

Like I said, I had to get going with my busy day, but I was bursting at the seams to tell as many people as my excited and scattered brain could think of before I left the house.  First, I called my mom, dad, brother, and aunt, so that they wouldn't hear through email or social media.  Then I compiled a short but sweet email announcement to as many people dear to me that I could think of in the time I had left.

Off to preschool we went and to my delight, replies to my email came in all day.  Thank God for smart phones.

Do you remember my mention of signs coming after the decision was made?  Good.

I want to stop and tell you a couple of things about my sister in-law Andrea, the brilliant neurologist who helped us with Mrs. Nesbit's file and medical diagnosis.  She is so gifted in so many areas beyond medicine.  She is a wonderful mother and wife and sister and friend.  I look up to her in many ways.

She is also VERY logical and fact oriented.  She is much like my husband, seeking concrete evidence to make a decision or determine authenticity.  In fact, when I was getting tired of waiting for that blasted x-ray, she made me laugh by saying to me, "I have to side with Kenyon.  You'll have to go to Jeff for sympathy on this one."  Jeff is my brother (and her husband) and is much more like me in decision making and emotional reactions.

When Andrea experiences God, she does so through clinging to the truth of His Word and deliberately focuses on His promises.  She is not a "sign" type of girl.

Which is why, I am sure, that God chose her.

She did not know that we made our decision late Sunday night.  She was still praying for us through the process, but thought we were waiting for more medical information to solidify our position.  She was included on my email Monday morning.

Her reply:
"I was going to email you anyway today because I had the most vivid dream last night.

The dream was of little Joya clinging onto your leg tightly like she was afraid and you were soothing her like any Mommy would... and then bigger versions of the little girl walked up one by one... the first "bigger version" of the littler girl was a grade schooler, and then a high schooler, and then a grown woman... each one knelt down by the little girl clinging to your leg and told her that everything was going to be alright and that you would take care of her and that she didn't have to cry... and the last one was the grown woman and she was full of poise and grace and had a beautiful smile... and then she disappeared but the little girl stopped crying and was smiling up at you with big, shiny wet eyes...

I was breathless when I woke up. "

Sign from God?  Check.  Kenyon and I were both brought to tears and in awe of how perfectly that happened.  If anyone else had experienced that dream, we could have easily written it off as ordinary for that person.  But not Andrea.  Increased faith?  Check.

As if that wasn't enough, we still received two more little gifts from God that made us delight in our decision.

But it would be no fun if I didn't string you along just one more time!

her story - part three

Click for PART ONE.

Click for PART TWO.

A sign, a sign, a sign.  "God please give us a sign, whether it be a green light or red one.  A wide open doorway, or a closed vault door with an impossible lock.  Most of all, give us eyes to see the sign.  Give us faith to believe that you're sending it.  Increase our faith in the process."

As if God had not already dealt with us GENEROUSLY where our faith lacked in the financial aspect of this process, now we were asking Him to step in and speak to us specifically about this precious little girl.

Our couples' small group prayed with us for a sign.  My sister prayed for a sign.  My brother prayed for a sign.  I honestly lacked faith that we would see the sign or accept it as coming from God.

Isn't it funny that the Bible tells us Gideon asked for a sign in Judges chapter six though eight and how, when God gave him one, he wasn't satisfied.  He asked for another.

We are no different.  We believe God is there, but it is so easy to question Him at every turn.

When the updated pictures of Mrs. Nesbit came to us, again my Beloved was out of state.  I texted him that the pictures were in his email inbox and he later told me that he was standing in the jetway waiting for his gate-checked suitcase, so he booted up his laptop so he could see her immediately.

When he called me later in the day, I asked him if he looked at the pictures and he responded that he did and he thought they were great.

"Did you notice the color of the motorcycle she was sitting on?" I asked with a grin.

"No....  Was it yellow?" he responded.

"Yup." I answered with a giggle.

'It's a sign! It's a sign!'  I wanted to scream and shout.  I wanted to hear my husband say, "Wow, that's clearly the sign.  God knows about our passion for the YELLOW CAR! game.  What may seem ordinary to others, stands out to our family.  We're good to go!"

But that was all in my head.  I knew that it was not my place to be the Holy Spirit in my husband's life and identify the sign for him.  So, I simply smiled and moved on in our conversation.

We waited for another few days to see if that x-ray would come through, but it never did.

One night Kenyon was sitting on the couch looking through the new pictures on his laptop when Sauce walked behind him and peeked over his shoulder.  Our nine year-old son had no idea he was possibly looking at his little sister.  He blurted out one thing.

"YELLOW CAR!"  (smile)  Then he walked away.  He never even asked who was in the picture.

The next Sunday night we were climbing into bed for the night.  It was late (well, 10:30 is late for me) and I was going to read a couple pages of my current book and then get some shut eye.  I had a very busy Monday coming up and I was exhausted.

My Beloved had other plans.  He put his pillow by my feet and told me he wanted to talk.  I said sure, and had a feeling this would be about Mrs. Nesbit.  I was right.

"How do you feel about all this?" he asked.

"How do you feel?" I said, purposely turning it around on him.

"I feel like you're shutting me out.  Why haven't you been talking to me about her?" he answered.

I then explained that I had been intentionally silent, letting him process the situation we were in and the decision we faced.  In a conversation that took another hour, we faced that decision together.

Kenyon said a couple of things that stand out in my memory.  He told me that he heard a quote by Colin Powell that said something like, "If you can't make a decision on 70% of the information, you'll never be able to make the decision."

He also explained that he had come to the realization that his struggle is with wanting control.  He accepted that this was a decision we would have to make with gaps in the information.

AND that he took note of the yellow motorcycle.  Smile.

"I'm in." is how he summed it up as he positioned his pillow back into the rightful place at the top of the bed.

"What?  Did we just make a decision?" I asked with a trembling voice.

"I don't know if you did, but I did." he answered with a smirk.

Oh my word.  The moment passed me by and I didn't even realize it was happening.  "AAAHHHH!  Can I call my sister?" was the first thing out of my mouth.  It was 11:30 in Utah and my sister works the night shift as a nurse in the Chicago suburbs.

Smiling, he said, "Sure, but don't you think we should name her first?"

We knew all along what her first name would be.  Joya was our favorite girl's name for several babies now.  No one knew that though because I never said it out loud to anyone but my husband in all those years.

We took all of two minutes to settle on Christine as her middle name.  Christine is my sister's middle name.  Amy is my only sister and my best friend.

Less than a minute after that, I had Amy on the phone wondering what in tarnation would have me calling so late.  We shared happy tears and giggles over what lay ahead on this journey.

I was thankful for the sign that God sent to us, however, little did we know that the most profound signs were to come AFTER we made the decisions to be Mrs. Nesbit's forever family.

Curious?  Check back soon.

her story - part two

If you haven't read part one, go HERE.

Although I was assured by our agency that an x-ray is not an unreasonable request and should be easily attained, we were never promised that it would happen.  Every few days, I checked in with my main contact there and quickly made myself "the squeaky wheel."

Inside of a week, we received an update about Mrs. Nesbit, consisting of thorough answers to our follow-up questions and six recent and PRECIOUS pictures of her.

Some of our major concerns were taken off the table simply by reading the updated information about her.  But before we announced to the world that we had a daughter, we decided to wait for the x-ray so that we could have a better assessment of her future surgical needs.

We then entered a time of delicate emotions.  My husband wanted as much information as possible so that he (the amazing provider and planner that he is) could prepare himself for what was ahead and make a confident decision that we were the right family for her and her medical needs.

Being less detailed and more a "step of faith" type of girl, this was a struggle for me.  I wanted to take a chance and believe that whatever need met us in the future, we would rise to the occasion with our best effort and God would take care of the rest.

Not being just a planner, but also a very wise man, my husband told me at one point, "Laurie, I can't be pressured into this by you.  I want to be 100% in this so that down the road when it gets hard, as it surely will, I won't blame you.  I will own it."

Enough said.  He made a great point and it reinforced the vow I made on the day we made the decision to pursue adoption.  I promised myself and God to never be in the driver's seat.  I did not want to pressure or force our family into a direction that my husband (and God) may not be on board for.

I immediately imagined my inner emotions toward this little girl as compressed air inside of me.  I kept them to myself.  I prayed for her, prayed for the process, our decision, for my husband, and for our marriage.

When we did finally get word on the x-ray, it wasn't what we hoped.  Her caretakers had taken her for an x-ray, but she wasn't cooperative (go figure for a 21 month old toddler).  Her caretakers had reservations about sedating her in order to get an x-ray, and Kenyon and I were grateful for that.  The last thing we wanted was to cause her any harm.  I dare say that we were feeling like protective parents already.

Although the information relayed was that they would try again, I think we both realized that it was unlikely that we would get this piece without sedation.

I continued on keeping my mouth shut and letting my husband process this life-altering decision in his own way.  Each time the subject came up, I would answer his question or give a short answer and then let the subject die.  I had full faith that he would make the right decision for our family. And whatever it was, I was dedicated to unity.

In the midst of all this, he also decided that we should ask God for a sign.

Hold the phone here..... my husband is not the "sign from God" type of guy.  In fact, although I consider his faith to be one of the most genuine I know, I often tease him that he can be such a cynic sometimes.  A sign from God can be a tricky thing for a cynic to process.  In fact, this was the first time in the 15+ years that I've known him that he was asking for a sign from God.

Next up, we ask and God delivers.

her story - part one

The call for Mrs. Nesbit's referral to us came quite unexpectedly.  I was at the very tail end of putting our dossier together and had left a message at our adoption agency with a question about a specific portion of the paperwork.  When my phone rang with the agency's number on the other end, I was assuming it was just the call back to answer my question.

When I heard the director of the China program greeting me, I had a teeny-tiny suspicion that she wasn't calling to answer my rookie dossier questions.

She calmly informed me that they had a little girl's file that they wanted us to look at and did I want to hear about her?

Um, yes please! (Imagine shaking hands, pounding heart, regretting that my Beloved was away on business, and scrambling for a piece of paper -all in the next few seconds.)

I then reminded myself to cherish this moment, because it would likely be a highlight when we tell Mrs. Nesbit her adoption story.  I grabbed the only paper I could find which happened to be too small for all the things I wanted to jot down.

She was described as 20 months old and living with foster parents.  She was found nestled in a paper box on a doorstep of a home on a cold day in January, 2010 when she was just 11 days old.  Her birth mother was loving and cared about her future as evidenced by the note she left with her.

I have not seen the note yet, but it said something to the effect of, "She was born on {gave her exact birth date}.  I would appreciate if some kind hearted people would adopt her."

Gulp.

People, if that is not evidence that there are trials in this world that we cannot even fathom, I don't know what is.  I think about her birth mother all the time and have so many thoughts about her possible situation and struggles, but that is for another post.

The kind woman on the phone from our agency then described her medical need to me as " a deformed right ear and an asymmetrical mouth."  Hmmm, what might that look like?  Did we want to see her file and photos?

Well, I couldn't make that decision without first talking to my man, who was working hard in Denver and had no idea that this call was coming.  Luckily, he answered his phone the first time and we quickly discussed it.  We had some fear over the vagueness of the description of her medical need, but in the end, we wanted to see her.

I nervously called the agency back and asked them to send her file over.  Then I hit "refresh" on my email box about 764 times, waiting for them to come through.

The bulk of her file was from her 18 month check up.  Her development and milestones exceeded some of my boys' timelines and the description of her personality made us giggle.  "Outgoing," "Likes other children and cats and dogs," "Lovely."

I have never even met her and she is lovely to me.

We had a short amount of time to review her file and have medical professionals advise us regarding her health.  I immediately called my "personal medical professional" - a.k.a. my brother's wife who is a brilliant neurologist at one of the most highly regarded medical facilities in the country.  She is always willing to help us and has been excited for our adoption journey.  Did I mention that she is one of the smartest people I know?

Mrs. Nesbit's health needs are not exactly in my sister in-law's area of specialty, but she was eager and anxious to get the ball rolling for us and dig a little deeper in order to get a thorough medical assessment.  If she wasn't an amazing doctor, I think she would make a great police detective - except her big heart wouldn't be able to handle the tragedy in detective work.

I also called my friend from church who had adopted a son from China with a cleft lip and palate.  She gave me the name and number of her son's craniofacial plastic surgeon AND the name of the office manager, Bonnie, who turned out to be wonderful.

I called the office before they opened and left a message for Bonnie explaining my situation and my time crunch.  Five minutes into business hours, she called me back and offered me an appointment for noon the next day (over the surgeon's lunch hour).  Bonnie was warm and friendly and had a calming effect on me.  After traveling all week, Kenyon just happened to be home the next day AND have a flexible schedule that allowed us to go to the appointment together.

We walked into the office the next day and gave our names at the front desk.  I informed them that Bonnie had booked our consultation and she immediately came out of her office and around the front desk to the waiting area where we were standing.  I extended my hand and started to introduce myself, but Bonnie would have none of that, she wrapped her arms around me so quickly that I wasn't sure what just happened.

What just happened was that just when I needed it most, God sent that warm, reassuring person that I needed to calm my fear and nervousness.

We talked with her a little bit about our family and our adoption journey as she walked us back to an exam room.  She hastily cleaned the room up, as the rest of the staff were all clearly on their lunch hour.

Shortly after she exited, the surgeon came in and shook our hands as we all introduced ourselves.  This man is Asian himself, and has a very calm, soft spoken nature to him.  He reviewed our daughter's file and confidently gave a name to the larger syndrome that he is certain that she has (which of course, was the exact syndrome my sister in-law came back with the night before).

He calmly explained it at a more basic medical level.  The most impressive part was the fact that he sat and let us ask as many questions as we could think of in that moment.  We even repeated and rephrased some of our questions.  He let large moments of silence pass comfortably, never rushing us to get going and let him be done.

Overall, we felt he gave us a generally positive prognosis with the little information we had at hand.  In order to solidify his diagnosis, we left with a plan to request a jaw x-ray and answers to some specific medical and developmental questions about Mrs. Nesbit.

We never asked in advance how much the consultation would cost us.  But, we had discussed it and knew that even if we had to pay $200 out of pocket, it would be money well spent in this process.  When we got back to the front counter, I took out my wallet and asked Bonnie how much we owed.

"Oh, there is no charge."

The wave of emotion immediately flooded me.  I choked back the tears and tried to force the words of gratefulness out of my mouth.  Seven months into this adoption journey, I had not yet met a major component of the process that didn't cost us money.

We walked out in a bit of a daze.  At our favorite sandwich shop, we visited some of the tougher scenarios and things to consider about her future needs.  Our goal was not to go in this blindly, but to face the situation head-on.

I called our agency that evening and expressed the need for a jaw x-ray and then compiled the email of remaining questions to be answered about her.

Then we faced some of the hardest times of waiting yet.

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.

magnificent

Only Love can leave such a mark
But only Love can heal such a scar.

Our lives have turned some major corners in the past year.  After deciding to discontinue home schooling, we sent our three big boys to the local public elementary school for the first time.  What a very big change all around for us, but we all agree that it was a good choice.

Kenyon left the company he had worked for for his entire 15 years of post-college life.  He took a chance at a new opportunity with a more local company.  Always thinking of his hunting season our family, he had the goal in mind that we wouldn't have to move geographically in order for him to move up in his career.

I couldn't be more proud of him.

As a result, we had say good bye to his company car and purchase a newer family truckster.  This is the first time in our marriage that we've owned (and insured, and repaired, and gassed up) two cars.

I know, poor us.

Shortly after his new job started, my Beloved revived a conversation that I had thought was dead some time ago.

You see, from the time we had a few years of parenting under our belts, the subject of orphans had caught our attention and our hearts.  Kenyon was the one who pushed me to go to Russia in 2006 to spend a week loving on precious children who are without families of their own.

That trip changed me.  I brought home with me faces and names, personalities and memories that defined the word "orphans".  There are an estimated 145 million + orphans globally, and I could not run from them or ignore it anymore.  I hugged them, sang with them, played with them, and said goodbye to them.

Then I came home to my loving family.  When I kissed my kids goodnight, I thought of the rooms with 30 beds filled with kids who don't get stories or snuggles or kisses at bedtime.

When my family was laughing and re-living our day at dinner time, I remembered looking into the rooms where those 30 children ate together - in silence.

My little boys love bubbles and stickers and puppets.  But now those things triggered memories of children who had never seen those things and when the Americans left, would likely not see them again until another group returned.

My kids go to the doctor for simple things like ear infections and yearly check ups.  I spent time with many children with easily correctable medical conditions that will spend their lives labeled and institutionalized.  There is no one advocating for their medical care.

You get the picture now, I'm sure.

For years now, our family has supported orphan care organizations and contributed to adoption funds of several families.  We had considered adoption, but various factors always added up to it not being the right time.

Personally, I didn't know if adoption would ever be written into our family's story.  And I had come to a point of complete peace with that.  If my husband did not want to adopt, then I knew it was not for us.  I shut my mouth and prayed that God would show me where I would fit in to this puzzle.

I am sure you can imagine my surprise when exactly one week into his new job, my man came to me and said, " I really think we should move forward with adopting."

Allrightythen.

Have you ever wanted something so badly for so long and when you finally have the opportunity to get it you question if you really want it?  Yup, that was me.

After about a week of heavy discussion and constant prayer, we filled out the application to adopt a child from China.

That was March 18th.

Last night was a big milestone in the process.  After months of paper chasing background checks, birth certificates, marriage certificates, writing 20 page autobiographies, and visiting doctors to sign off on our health status and our children's as well, our social worker came to do our official home visit.

After two and a half hours of individual and group interviews, she promised us our precious home study report within the next week or so and with that in hand, we will be moving forward toward our ....

daughter.

We are all so very excited to start on this journey.  We hope you will join us with your prayers and support.  We hope that by this time next year we will be settled home as a family of seven.

I know, the poor girl will never go on a date with four big brothers and a dad - all with weapons.

More to come soon.  And, needless to say, I'm taking suggestions for new blog names. 

for jules

For my sophomore year of college, I transferred from a smaller satellite campus of my university to the main campus.  I was assigned to an all girls dorm that was set up in suites, having four bedrooms attached to a living area.

Julie lived in the bedroom next door to me and was a junior that year.  Her kind heart and loads of sarcastic humor made us fast friends.  She probably doesn't know it, but she was one of the major reasons that I enjoyed living there.  Okay, maybe she does.

The following year, Jules and I started working on the school newspaper together.  That required lots of procrastinating and pulling our stories out of thin air at the eleventh hour all nighters to get that very serious piece of journalism published each week.

We laughed a lot.  We ate a lot of pizza.  We cranked the music and danced in the newspaper office a lot.  Did I mention that we laughed?

Right now it would be hilarious to go in my basement and dig up some embarrassing photos of our college years - like the time Julie put on a paper pleated Christmas tree skirt as a real skirt - complete with black high heels.

But it's late and I'm too tired.  If I can muster the mojo chunk of time tomorrow to dive down that rabbit hole, I will.

Jules and I have always had a bond and after I got married we lost touch for a bit (definitely my fault).  After catching up at a friends wedding several years ago in Denver (where I got to meet her delightful, hilarious, and perfectly matched husband Jeff), we started sending Christmas cards and occasional emails.

Through that time, I found out that as grown adults, Julie and I share a heart and hurt for orphans.  She and Jeff have three beautiful biological children and have taken the leap of faith to apply to adopt a baby boy from Ethiopia.

They have completed all of their paperwork and are in "queue" for a referral to their son.  They have been chosen for a fundraiser this month by "Go. Seek. Love."

Visit Julie's blog or go straight to the Go. Seek. Love. website.  For each purchase, or simply spreading the word via any social media, you will be entered to win a $20 Amazon gift card.

Did you hear that?  NO PURCHASE NECESSARY!!!  But once you look at the cute t-shirts, you'll want one.

Let's bring this boy home to his amazing forever family.

things I should have blogged about - hunger

It is almost becoming cliche' to say that Thanksgiving and Christmas should be about giving to others.

I believe it when I hear it, but am I really living it?  How many times has, "let's have a small Christmas this year," turned into another huge pile of presents around the tree?

Prior to Thanksgiving, our church planned to be an assembly site for Kids Against Hunger.  Not only did 400 people sign up to spend their Thanksgiving morning packaging food for hungry people, but our church also sent home samples of the food packs for families to "fast" from our American diets prior to turkey day.

One packet of food provides a nutritious meal for six people and only needs hot water to prepare it.  Before I served it for dinner, I wanted my kids to watch the videos on the Kids Against Hunger website so they could know WHY we were doing this and who the food really goes to.

And for them to peek out of their little American window and see how much of the world has very basic needs that are not met.

They all huddled around my computer to watch, but The Hunter quickly began walking away.  When I told him to get his butt back here come join us please, he looked at me with tears in his eyes and said, "I can't Mom.  It is just too sad."

I can't wait to take that boy out into the world someday soon.  I hope my 2006 trip to Russia was just the tip of a big family iceberg.

The dinner was actually pretty comparable to what is normally served around here.

We liked it, so it wasn't much of a sacrifice to eat it.  But it was a great reminder and discussion starter for our family to think about others who are hungry, cold, or even lonely.

Our church is currently exploring a partnership with an organization working in Africa.  My friend Amy sent me this video of a little glimpse of what is waiting there.

Russia just opened my eyes and my heart.  I want them to stay open and focused on the needs of others.

sweets for some sweeties

If you know me, you know my heart and passion for orphans.  Two and a half years ago I went on my very first mission trip to Russia with an awesome organization called Children's Hopechest.

We spent ten days falling in love with a bunch of unwanted kids - we put on a summer camp to teach them how much God wants them.

The orphanage was designated for special needs children, and many of them did have special needs - but by far, the majority of them were normal, smart, sweet, loving, needing-to-be-loved children.

When we arrived from our hotel each morning this is what we saw:

This is my little sponsored boy Vitya.  None of the kids had ever even seen bubbles, much less blown them.  Such simple delights.

We played ball, danced and let them "do" our hair.

We were VERY silly with them.  This is Sergey and he was about to graduate from the orphanage we were at (which only went up to the fourth grade) and move to an orphanage with much older kids.  He was so sweet and won everyone's heart.

 

I don't know what else God will put in my future path regarding orphans, but I am certain that there will be something because they are never far from my mind.

I just heard of a great fundraiser by Elle and her site Sweet Hope.  Go read about it and buy some chocolate.  I ordered a bunch for Christmas gifts, but seeing that it all gets shipped December 12th, I doubt they'll make it until Christmas.

Go read about it now, and be sure to click the "order" tab.  What I do know from my experience is that a little bit of love/money/effort can go a long way in an orphan's world.