A: One at a time. :)
Orphan math.
Dossier should be ready to mail in one week. Which means one less orphan in the world.
Friday, July 29, 2011
A riddle
Q:How do you reach 147 million orphans?
A: One at a time. :)
Orphan math.
Dossier should be ready to mail in one week. Which means one less orphan in the world.
A: One at a time. :)
Orphan math.
Dossier should be ready to mail in one week. Which means one less orphan in the world.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Like my father
Those of you who know me well know that my father died almost two years ago. He had been declining for a long time, and yet somehow, despite the fact that everyone warned me, this took me by surprise. Watching my father die was the hardest thing I've ever done. I miss him so very much. I think of him every day. In my mind, I see him, sitting up at his breakfast bar. I hear his laugh. I see his smirk. I see him walking in from the garage. I watch him shuffling down the hall. I miss him more than I can express. I still cry at odd times, for virtually no reason, when small things remind me of him. My mom will attest to this. It's bizarre. It makes me cry that I won't see him again for many years. No daughter should lose their dad at 39 years of age. We still need them too much.
My father was an army man, with every image that conjures up in your brain. He loved our country and fought hard in the Vietnam war. That impacted his health for the rest of his life. In fact, he served in Vietnam twice, Germany twice, and Korea once. He spent A LOT of time away from our family, defending our freedoms that my children enjoy. He taught me to revere our flag, love our servicemen and appreciate the sacrifice of the American soldier. On my keychain, I carry a keychain medallion of his with the words "Fit to Fight, Second to None" that he received while in the Army. My dad was one tough army man, with a tender heart that I grew to appreciate the older I got. My father, the invincible. At least that's how I felt until he died. I didn't expect him to go down. How does a daughter prepare for that?
During this adoption process, I've wondered what my dad would think, what he would say to me. I've wondered if he'd be supportive, or think we were out of our minds. I've thought several times, I wish I could call him and talk to him, hear his laugh, listen to his council. But I can't. And so I imagine what he'd say to me.
Today, I was thinking about him and a song came on the radio. "If you're reading this", by Tim McGraw. It's a military song, and those always make me cry anyway. But this time, I listened closely when it got to the part:
"If you're reading this, half way around the world
I won't be around to see the birth of our little girl.
I hope she looks like you, I hope she fights like me,
And stands up for the innocent and the weak".
There it was. My answer. What would my dad expect from me? To fight like him. And to stand up for the innocent and the weak.
My friends, I'd like to introduce you to the innocent and the weak:
In fact, when it comes down to it, you really can't get much more innocent and weak. This is Seth a year after the other pictures were taken. Not nearly as flattering, huh? That's what another year in an institution will do to a child. In fact, it was this picture, and the change between the cute ones up above and this one, that compelled Jeremy to say "We need to go get him".
A child, abandoned by his mother, left in an orphanage, with cerebral palsy, with next to no chance of ever getting out. Children with special needs in his country are rarely adopted. Especially not if they have special needs and are over the age of 5. Next to none. Almost non existent.
I am certain my dad would want me to fight for him. When my dad taught me to love our country, our freedoms, our blessings, he was teaching me to fight for Seth. He was teaching me to stand up and have courage, to go get him when the time was right and he needed us most. He taught me the lessons, everything I needed to know, gave me all the strength I needed, to do what I'm doing today. He would be proud of me. Of that, I am certain.
And so, when it came to the part where Tim McGraw says:
"Just remember this, I'm in a better place,
Where soldiers live in peace, and angels sing "Amazing Grace"
I had to pull over to get myself back together. My dad, who served valiantly, and gave his health for his country, is now living in peace. He sacrificed for what I have, and who I am, so that one day, I would be brave enough to go save a little boy from a horrible injustice. A beautiful little boy, trapped in an orphanage, who desperately, desperately needs a family, the love, the freedom, the education and the medical care that this great country can offer him. Not because he's yet a citizen, but because his mother is.
And whether Seth ever walks on this earth, we know he will when his turn comes to return to his Heavenly Father. He will be resurrected with a perfect, healthy body and this trial he had will be but a blip in his life span. And he will be ours. For eternity. Because of His amazing grace.
This little boy, and the whole process of his adoption, the rights I have to do it, Seth's rights to claim them, are the very reason my dad fought. I fight like him. I defend the innocent and the weak. I am my fathers daughter.
My father was an army man, with every image that conjures up in your brain. He loved our country and fought hard in the Vietnam war. That impacted his health for the rest of his life. In fact, he served in Vietnam twice, Germany twice, and Korea once. He spent A LOT of time away from our family, defending our freedoms that my children enjoy. He taught me to revere our flag, love our servicemen and appreciate the sacrifice of the American soldier. On my keychain, I carry a keychain medallion of his with the words "Fit to Fight, Second to None" that he received while in the Army. My dad was one tough army man, with a tender heart that I grew to appreciate the older I got. My father, the invincible. At least that's how I felt until he died. I didn't expect him to go down. How does a daughter prepare for that?
During this adoption process, I've wondered what my dad would think, what he would say to me. I've wondered if he'd be supportive, or think we were out of our minds. I've thought several times, I wish I could call him and talk to him, hear his laugh, listen to his council. But I can't. And so I imagine what he'd say to me.
Today, I was thinking about him and a song came on the radio. "If you're reading this", by Tim McGraw. It's a military song, and those always make me cry anyway. But this time, I listened closely when it got to the part:
"If you're reading this, half way around the world
I won't be around to see the birth of our little girl.
I hope she looks like you, I hope she fights like me,
And stands up for the innocent and the weak".
There it was. My answer. What would my dad expect from me? To fight like him. And to stand up for the innocent and the weak.
My friends, I'd like to introduce you to the innocent and the weak:
In fact, when it comes down to it, you really can't get much more innocent and weak. This is Seth a year after the other pictures were taken. Not nearly as flattering, huh? That's what another year in an institution will do to a child. In fact, it was this picture, and the change between the cute ones up above and this one, that compelled Jeremy to say "We need to go get him".
A child, abandoned by his mother, left in an orphanage, with cerebral palsy, with next to no chance of ever getting out. Children with special needs in his country are rarely adopted. Especially not if they have special needs and are over the age of 5. Next to none. Almost non existent.
I am certain my dad would want me to fight for him. When my dad taught me to love our country, our freedoms, our blessings, he was teaching me to fight for Seth. He was teaching me to stand up and have courage, to go get him when the time was right and he needed us most. He taught me the lessons, everything I needed to know, gave me all the strength I needed, to do what I'm doing today. He would be proud of me. Of that, I am certain.
And so, when it came to the part where Tim McGraw says:
"Just remember this, I'm in a better place,
Where soldiers live in peace, and angels sing "Amazing Grace"
I had to pull over to get myself back together. My dad, who served valiantly, and gave his health for his country, is now living in peace. He sacrificed for what I have, and who I am, so that one day, I would be brave enough to go save a little boy from a horrible injustice. A beautiful little boy, trapped in an orphanage, who desperately, desperately needs a family, the love, the freedom, the education and the medical care that this great country can offer him. Not because he's yet a citizen, but because his mother is.
And whether Seth ever walks on this earth, we know he will when his turn comes to return to his Heavenly Father. He will be resurrected with a perfect, healthy body and this trial he had will be but a blip in his life span. And he will be ours. For eternity. Because of His amazing grace.
This little boy, and the whole process of his adoption, the rights I have to do it, Seth's rights to claim them, are the very reason my dad fought. I fight like him. I defend the innocent and the weak. I am my fathers daughter.
Guess who got the golden ticket??
It's not Charlie!! We got it! Golden Ticket, otherwise referred to as I600A approval. Our governments approval to bring an orphan into the country. The last piece of our dossier!! To be notorized, apostilled and sent off the Eastern Europe, whereupon we will be issued a travel date. :)
Phillip (Seth, is actually what we'll call him), hang on!! We're on our way!!
Phillip (Seth, is actually what we'll call him), hang on!! We're on our way!!
Friday, July 22, 2011
Just another word for "different"
I was asked a question a few days ago that has been making me think, and the more I think, the more my answer has developed. They are answers I always knew. I guess as I've thought it out, it just became more developed, and so I thought I'd share it with you. :)
I was asked why Jeremy and I decided to adopt special needs. Well, first of all, we aren't adopting special needs. We're adopting a little boy, who happens to have a special need. There's a big difference. To ask someone why they are adopting special needs is to assume the need comes first. It doesn't. And it never will. The boy comes first. And really, when you break it down, he is just that. A boy. His most basic needs are the same as any other little boy. He needs a family, love, food, clothes. He needs to laugh, be happy, learn to read, feel the sun on his face and dig in the dirt. He needs to walk out of that orphanage! Oh yes, and he may need a walker and AFO's to do it. No biggie, really.
When we realized who he was and what we were being asked to do, it didn't matter that he had CP. It wouldn't have mattered if he had six arms and three heads. That's all secondary to the fact that he is ours. He needs us. There is a little boy across the world who is calling our name, waiting for us to come get him.
Secondly, we didn't "decide" to adopt him. We weren't even looking. We have six children. Phillip was chosen for us. When I saw him, I knew. This isn't about a family who needed a child. This is about a child who needed a family. There was no choice. That choice was made by Someone way bigger and mightier than me. Who were we to say no?
Special needs is an interesting idea. I read today that special needs is really just another word for "different". What's wrong with being different? Aren't we all different? As a mother of six children, I can tell you, all children come with special needs. Seriously, think about your children. All children have quirks, strengths, weaknesses, challenges they must overcome, talents they need to grow, attention problems, behavior issues, low tolerance for frustration, problems reading, struggles in math. All children have special needs. Some are just more obvious than others. Like the ones that limit your ability to walk. Should that limit a child's ability to have a family? Of course not. Does it? Unfortunately, yes. Reality.
But you know what we decided? Phillip's problem isn't going away. If we walked away from him because of his special need, he'd still have cerebral palsy. There'd still be a little boy across the ocean, in an orphanage, who can't walk. Our turning our backs on him wouldn't change any of that. Nothing would change for him. Same old, same old. All that would change is our presence in his life. We could have chosen to walk away, to not deal with it, to pretend like he didn't exist. To carry on with our life. But we knew better. We knew he existed. And once you know, you can't pretend otherwise.
Knowing any child needs you, could you turn away? I don't think so. Most adults couldn't. We are equiped to help and nuture children. When we see a child who needs help, we instinctively rally. A lost child, a child who needs a band aid, a child who doesn't own a winter coat. We are accustomed to helping with those needs. Within our own homes, some of us have children who need glasses. Some need braces. Some need medication for various ailments. What if you had a child who couldn't walk? Would you do everything in your power to help your child? Of course you would. That's what we do. We rally for our children. We rally for children, in general. This little boy needs AFO's. And a family. Is it a bigger leap of faith? Of course. Is it impossible. Of course not.
We have the opportunity to put this little boy first, to change his life, to make his life significantly better. But to do it, we have to put ourselves on the line. Our wants, our desires. Sacrifice. For one of God's children. If a little boy had called to you, would you have had the courage to hear? I bet so.
Now that I've broken this down, consider whether you could make room in your family and do this. These children exist. They are real. These are real children, living in real orphanages. And they need you. One of them could be calling your name. Adoption is not for everyone. But if one is calling your name, have the courage to listen. Visit www.reecesrainbow.org or talk to me. I have many favorites I can recommend, children who are breaking my heart.
They really are no different than any other child. They just have different needs. Their most basic and biggest need is for a family. They don't need you to be perfect or rich. They just need you.
I was asked why Jeremy and I decided to adopt special needs. Well, first of all, we aren't adopting special needs. We're adopting a little boy, who happens to have a special need. There's a big difference. To ask someone why they are adopting special needs is to assume the need comes first. It doesn't. And it never will. The boy comes first. And really, when you break it down, he is just that. A boy. His most basic needs are the same as any other little boy. He needs a family, love, food, clothes. He needs to laugh, be happy, learn to read, feel the sun on his face and dig in the dirt. He needs to walk out of that orphanage! Oh yes, and he may need a walker and AFO's to do it. No biggie, really.
When we realized who he was and what we were being asked to do, it didn't matter that he had CP. It wouldn't have mattered if he had six arms and three heads. That's all secondary to the fact that he is ours. He needs us. There is a little boy across the world who is calling our name, waiting for us to come get him.
Secondly, we didn't "decide" to adopt him. We weren't even looking. We have six children. Phillip was chosen for us. When I saw him, I knew. This isn't about a family who needed a child. This is about a child who needed a family. There was no choice. That choice was made by Someone way bigger and mightier than me. Who were we to say no?
Special needs is an interesting idea. I read today that special needs is really just another word for "different". What's wrong with being different? Aren't we all different? As a mother of six children, I can tell you, all children come with special needs. Seriously, think about your children. All children have quirks, strengths, weaknesses, challenges they must overcome, talents they need to grow, attention problems, behavior issues, low tolerance for frustration, problems reading, struggles in math. All children have special needs. Some are just more obvious than others. Like the ones that limit your ability to walk. Should that limit a child's ability to have a family? Of course not. Does it? Unfortunately, yes. Reality.
But you know what we decided? Phillip's problem isn't going away. If we walked away from him because of his special need, he'd still have cerebral palsy. There'd still be a little boy across the ocean, in an orphanage, who can't walk. Our turning our backs on him wouldn't change any of that. Nothing would change for him. Same old, same old. All that would change is our presence in his life. We could have chosen to walk away, to not deal with it, to pretend like he didn't exist. To carry on with our life. But we knew better. We knew he existed. And once you know, you can't pretend otherwise.
Knowing any child needs you, could you turn away? I don't think so. Most adults couldn't. We are equiped to help and nuture children. When we see a child who needs help, we instinctively rally. A lost child, a child who needs a band aid, a child who doesn't own a winter coat. We are accustomed to helping with those needs. Within our own homes, some of us have children who need glasses. Some need braces. Some need medication for various ailments. What if you had a child who couldn't walk? Would you do everything in your power to help your child? Of course you would. That's what we do. We rally for our children. We rally for children, in general. This little boy needs AFO's. And a family. Is it a bigger leap of faith? Of course. Is it impossible. Of course not.
We have the opportunity to put this little boy first, to change his life, to make his life significantly better. But to do it, we have to put ourselves on the line. Our wants, our desires. Sacrifice. For one of God's children. If a little boy had called to you, would you have had the courage to hear? I bet so.
Now that I've broken this down, consider whether you could make room in your family and do this. These children exist. They are real. These are real children, living in real orphanages. And they need you. One of them could be calling your name. Adoption is not for everyone. But if one is calling your name, have the courage to listen. Visit www.reecesrainbow.org or talk to me. I have many favorites I can recommend, children who are breaking my heart.
They really are no different than any other child. They just have different needs. Their most basic and biggest need is for a family. They don't need you to be perfect or rich. They just need you.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
What does this mean??
Today, I spent the day doing some shopping.... shorts, pants, jammies, shirts, dress pants, shoes, socks, a coloring book and colored pencils, a notebook, scissors, glue stick, construction paper, modeling clay, three hot wheels, plastic animals, bouncy ball, slinky, stickers, bubbles, books, a back pack, water bottle, multi vitamins. All for one little boy. All for one incredibly long flight home.
You know what that means?
It means we're getting close, folks!!!
Pray that it continues to go smoothly. This week, we should get our USCIS approval, our "golden ticket". The last thing needed for our dossier. Once that's in, we send documents off for apostilling and then we are ready to mail it to his country.
Get ready, because one little boy is coming home soon! Home to a family who loves him. A family who will make sure he's never hungry or lonely or cold again. Our family is receiving a miracle, a choice son of Heavenly Father. A survivor. A child with enormous courage and strength. A child who has been through more in six years than I have experienced in forty. A child who, despite all of this, still smiles. I will be honored and blessed to call him "son". Make no mistake... we are the lucky ones.
You know what that means?
It means we're getting close, folks!!!
Pray that it continues to go smoothly. This week, we should get our USCIS approval, our "golden ticket". The last thing needed for our dossier. Once that's in, we send documents off for apostilling and then we are ready to mail it to his country.
Get ready, because one little boy is coming home soon! Home to a family who loves him. A family who will make sure he's never hungry or lonely or cold again. Our family is receiving a miracle, a choice son of Heavenly Father. A survivor. A child with enormous courage and strength. A child who has been through more in six years than I have experienced in forty. A child who, despite all of this, still smiles. I will be honored and blessed to call him "son". Make no mistake... we are the lucky ones.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Waiting Child
This was borrowed from a blogging friend. I asked her permission to share it, because it captures my feelings so well. "Beautiful child who has been broken down yet smiles, through the pain". I hope he can hear me calling him home. I can't wait to bring him home and watch him soar!
In the sea of faces
How can I choose just one?
Hopeful eyes and eager hearts
Beautiful child
Who has been broken down
Yet, smiles through the pain
I wait for our souls to connect
I look for the face that is as familiar to me
as my own
I wonder
Where you are
and who is holding you tonight
Are you warm?
And safe?
Can you feel me out here?
Praying for you
Calling you home
Waiting child
You feel as though we will never come
And the hours turn to days
As we desperately search for you
We dream of who you are
And what you will become
We wonder how the pieces will all
Fit together
Joining us
From two seperate worlds
In this new place
We call FAMILY
Your heart already
So deeply intertwined
With ours
Leading us to you
By fate
Destiny
Our child
Keep hope
And faith
Alive
By grace
We will find you
Bring you home
With love
We will keep you here
Give you roots
And when the day comes
Stand back
To watch you soar
"Come home, sweet child" I whisper tonight
A star shines bright
With the promise of tomorrow
A new day
A new chance
In the sea of faces
How can I choose just one?
Hopeful eyes and eager hearts
Beautiful child
Who has been broken down
Yet, smiles through the pain
I wait for our souls to connect
I look for the face that is as familiar to me
as my own
I wonder
Where you are
and who is holding you tonight
Are you warm?
And safe?
Can you feel me out here?
Praying for you
Calling you home
Waiting child
You feel as though we will never come
And the hours turn to days
As we desperately search for you
We dream of who you are
And what you will become
We wonder how the pieces will all
Fit together
Joining us
From two seperate worlds
In this new place
We call FAMILY
Your heart already
So deeply intertwined
With ours
Leading us to you
By fate
Destiny
Our child
Keep hope
And faith
Alive
By grace
We will find you
Bring you home
With love
We will keep you here
Give you roots
And when the day comes
Stand back
To watch you soar
"Come home, sweet child" I whisper tonight
A star shines bright
With the promise of tomorrow
A new day
A new chance
Saturday, July 9, 2011
How I know that God is Real
Ever wonder if God is real? If He REALLY hears our prayers? If He REALLY loves the children? Here's proof...
The country that we're adopting from decided today that during the 3 month shut down to re-work the special needs list, due to officially begin on Monday, they will continue to allow adoptions of all children over 5 and those children younger than 5 who have special needs already on the special needs list. Phillip's special need isn't on the list. Cerebral palsy. Go figure, huh? BUT... he's 6. So our little man is OUT OF THERE!! God has heard our collective prayers.
Just as we've known all along, He is well aware of Phillip's need. We have known from the beginning that Phillip's need is urgent. Not his special need. Not his cerebral palsy. But his need for us, for a family, for love. He needs that now. He needs us now. Not in three months. And Heavenly Father has provided for his need, once again. Proof that mountains will be moved as we make our way to our little boy.
Timeline: ASAP. Most likely mid September. We have a mighty God. A God who loves the fatherless. A God who loves Phillip.
The country that we're adopting from decided today that during the 3 month shut down to re-work the special needs list, due to officially begin on Monday, they will continue to allow adoptions of all children over 5 and those children younger than 5 who have special needs already on the special needs list. Phillip's special need isn't on the list. Cerebral palsy. Go figure, huh? BUT... he's 6. So our little man is OUT OF THERE!! God has heard our collective prayers.
Just as we've known all along, He is well aware of Phillip's need. We have known from the beginning that Phillip's need is urgent. Not his special need. Not his cerebral palsy. But his need for us, for a family, for love. He needs that now. He needs us now. Not in three months. And Heavenly Father has provided for his need, once again. Proof that mountains will be moved as we make our way to our little boy.
Timeline: ASAP. Most likely mid September. We have a mighty God. A God who loves the fatherless. A God who loves Phillip.
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