Showing posts with label international adoption. Show all posts
Showing posts with label international adoption. Show all posts

Waiting for TA


Well, here it goes. The longest two weeks in history. :)

Some time in the next two weeks, we should get our Travel Approval. That is our official call to come pick up Moses.

There's a decent chance it will come this week, and I'm feeling that crazy sense of anticipation where your senses are super-hyped and ready for the phone to ring at every second. This morning I wrote the agency and gave them every phone number we have so they could call us as soon as it gets here.

We still don't know who will travel. We wrote Sue Sorrels, an adoption travel agent who is supposedly a master of finding the lowest fares possible. The agency says we have to fly in to Beijing and out of Guangzhou, and that will make a round-trip impossible, unless we can find a creative alternative.

I'm trying to plan for all of us going, two of us going, and just Bobby going. It's a little crazy not having a definite plan at this point, but we're doing the best we can with it.

Bobby already has some of those synthetic travel shirts you can wash out in the tub and hang to try overnight. Last time he was in China, the hotel charged a ton of money for laundry (like $5 to wash one pair of underwear), so washing stuff ourselves is imperative. I had trouble finding that quick-try techy material for women, but eventually I ran into a couple of shirts on deep sale at T.J. Maxx in the workout section. They are super lightweight and will pack teeny tiny. If I do go to China, one goal is minimizing the clothes we pack for ourselves to make room for supplies to take to orphanage kids in Beijing.

In particular, we hope to take some child-size colostomy bags to the folks at Morning Star Project. Click here to read about their work in China. So, if you know where to get those cheaply, or if you'd like to donate some, please give me a shout.

I found Moses a couple of pair of tennis shoes at Target this weekend. I have no idea what size to take, because his last foot length measurements were taken in March. I'm taking a cute pair of hand-me-down Crocs (size 6/7), and tennis shoes in size 7 and 8. I really hope at least one of those will fit.

I also bought a small pack of Pull-Ups, which I heard are good for the flight home, even if he is potty trained. (Supposedly the Chinese version leaks??) And I found a little picture board book of common English words. Maybe we can use it during the wait times and on the plane ride home.

We still need to find gifts for orphanage workers, tour guides, government officials, etc. I'm really hoping some of our adoptive friends will point us in the right direction on that, because I have no idea what is appropriate.

Thanks for taking the time to follow our journey. Prayers for a rapid TA, cheap plane tickets, and efficiency in the final details are needed. Also, we need to pray for little Moses, of course. He's about to face the biggest transition of his life so far. We hope the Lord will make it as gentle for him as possible.

Read more...

Overwhelmed.

I'm still too overwhelmed to be very eloquent in this post. However, I want to at least try and update.

Tonight we showed up at a birthday party for our associate pastor. He and his wife have an incredible heart for community, so we headed over to their house expecting a fun, eclectic mix of neighbors from all walks of life.

When we walked in the front door, only folks from our church were there. I was a little surprised by that, but also thankful for the chance to just hang out and love on people we never have enough time to talk with on Sunday mornings.

A few minutes into the gathering, Tommy and Celeste made an announcement. The main purpose of the party wasn't a birthday celebration, but to help raise funds for the adoption. I felt my knees get weak. It was totally unexpected.

I have trouble explaining how it felt to be standing in a room so full of love and support for a child who has never had a family. When you are adopting internally, you never know if a child who looks a little different will really be accepted. But moms and dads (and their toddlers) were literally filling up those rooms, talking about how excited they were for their children to befriend our new son. And they were supporting us as we pursue him.

I can't find the right words for how I feel yet. To be this overwhelmed by grace is indescribable. Thank you to those who made it happen. We are moved beyond our ability to express it adequately.

P.S. Also, we received $2500 in one night. Unbelievable! Thank you so much!!!!

Read more...

out of egypt.


Those of you who have been following our story know that our 13-year-old son picked out the name “Moses.” He started praying for his little brother by name every night last summer, before we even realized that boys in China needed homes. What we haven’t told you is why he chose that name.

A symbolic, spiritual answer seems fitting here, but I don’t have one. JD chose "Moses" because he wanted their dynamic duo to be known as: “John Dynamo and his Little Bro, Mo.”

Our friends have had different reactions to this name. Apart from Gwenyth Paltrow’s son, you just don't see it very often. "Moses" is not something you'll find embroidered on pillowcases in a Pottery Barn Kids catalogue.

Yet, the Lord hides lessons in unexpected places. And we've learned that He can even do that with a name birthed out of teenage wonder speak.

When you first start to develop a heart for orphans, it’s easy to embrace a ‘savior’ mentality. Why? Well, you see heart-wrenching YouTube videos and hear the awful stories about how these kids start life, so you are horrified. You want to get involved in liberating a child from a hopeless, abusive existence. You want to be the rescuer. Saving at least one child becomes the focus of your heart.

Yet, social workers and experts strongly discourage the ‘savior’ perception. They don’t want a child growing up feeling like a charity case, and that makes a lot of sense.

Maybe you have seen hovering, needy moms turning older adopted kids into objects. They nurse their own insecurities by making their identity as ‘adoptive mom’ central to most conversations. They do this in front of their children, and you can literally watch their kids wither as they listen.

The sensation I get while watching this exchange happen is almost one of bondage. The mom continually suggests that her child is indebted to his/her rescuer. It feels shameful. There is no dignity involved in this sort of relationship.

Bobby and I are still very new to adoption, so my reflections are green. But this bondage dynamic has been the total opposite of what we have experienced so far. Moses isn't even here yet, but we have still found a duality of salvation happening. Our child isn’t the only one being redeemed through this process. He is also being used by God to rescue his parents... perhaps to an even greater extent than what he is experiencing.

As I look back through the past year, I can see how God has already used our little Moses to lead me out of a thousand captivities. I used to confidently throw around the name of God while working for earthly masters. I was bound by political frustration, materialistic goals, and self-centered dreams. I was frightened because I might someday suffer, but I didn’t grieve because others are already suffering. I was too much like the parents in The Boy in the Striped Pajamas, myopic and self-indulgent, pursuing new toys while people were dying. I was too certain and too hard. I didn’t let the pain of the world penetrate my heart deeply enough.

Of course, I still have tons of room to grow and change. On the "Simmer v. Belly Flop Sin Continuum," I'm a belly flopper. I'm the sort of person who goofs up robustly, and I will tomorrow, and I will the next day.

However, because of Moses, I am no longer the same person now that I was before he was in my life. He's not even here yet, but he has already made me see and feel the whole world - and my role in it - so differently. I can't imagine how much more he will teach me after he arrives.

So rescue? Who is being rescued? Sure, I can give Moses a home. But he has given me the gift of sight in exchange. He has rooted my loyalty deeper into eternity. He has softened my callouses. He is loosening my grasp on foolish things, wooing me not with rules and demands... but with a smile so big his eyes disappear. He is unhinging thirty years-worth of captivity. He is transforming my "they" into "we". Moses is leading me out of Egypt.

At this point, in our relationship I am the debtor. He has already given me so much more than I can offer him. Perhaps someday God will help me return the favor, and we can be equals. But until then, thank you, Moses. I have needed you. And I need you still.

Read more...

the fifth stack


While Bobby was folding clothes tonight he shook out a little pair of shorts I'd found at Goodwill for Moses. He said, "You know what this represents?"

"What?" I asked.

"The fifth stack!" he said.

It made me smile, because he was right. That fifth stack of folded clothes looked awfully good sitting on the coffee table. It's our 'quiver-full of arrows,' twenty-ten version.

- - -

Upon recommendation from a friend, I've been reading Milton Vincent's A Gospel Primer. In the past, I've always felt a little slow, because no matter how much in-depth theology I read, it seems like I still have to return to the rudimentary gospel on a regular basis. It's like returning to the surface for air: Jesus died for me, and because of this, my life was made new ... and is being made new.

Yet Vincent's work is helping me see how the gospel was intended to be more than a one-time thing for Christians. The ongoing exchange of Christ is central to my growth, and this one simple truth applies very practically to every area of my life. The life infusion Jesus offers exchanges my strivings (fears, bad habits, insufficiencies, failures) for rest.

The chapter that shook me up today was called "My Manifesto." Vincent writes: "Admittedly, I don't deserve to be a child of God, and I don't deserve to be free of sin's guilt and power. I don't deserve the staggering privilege of intimacy with God, or any other blessing that Christ has purchased for me with His blood. I don't even deserve to be useful to God."

"I don't even deserve to be useful to God."

That last statement hit me hardest, because as the last few weeks of our adoption process draw to a close, I find myself plagued with fears. What if something happens and everything falls through? After falling in love with this child, what if we are left with empty arms? What if paperwork gets lost? What if he is gravely hurt in the orphanage? What if one of us gets hurt too badly to travel? What if one of us becomes seriously ill so that the other government won't let us have him? And then ... what if no one else wanted to adopt him, because he's a toddler? Or what if someone adopted him who didn't love him? For someone with my personality, these sorts of possibilities can be paralyzing.

Fifteen years ago I had a miscarriage, and it broke my heart. So I don't speak lightly when I say that (for me) these adoption-loss fears have been even more intense than pregnancy fears of losing a baby living inside my body. I know what would happen if I lost a baby inside my body. The child would transition from an environment of warmth and love into a beautiful eternity with Jesus. I know I could find comfort in that truth at the end of grief and pain.

But I don't know what would happen to Moses if we lost the adoption. I couldn't be assured he would be safe in any aspect, most importantly spiritually. I know many of the horrors and dangers that he would face physically, and that knowledge stirs up a level of fear I have absolutely no words to describe.

I realized today that, in light of those dangers, I have felt justified in expecting that God would let me be "useful to Him" by adopting Moses. The presence of such fear is diagnostic of a heart that trusts my love and my will more than God's. In the midst of a 'good' pursuit, the mission has almost become more important to me than my Savior. Perhaps this is the universal temptation of motherhood.

I'm grateful for Vincent's reminder that it is a grace to be invited into God's work, but I am not doing something good for God. In His mercy, He might allow me the privilege of being a part of something beautiful that He is doing. But participating in redemption is not something I deserve. I cannot demand it. My "usefulness" is dependent solely upon God's calling and sustenance.

Soli Deo Gloria.

Read more...

trendy baby



A lot of moms hate them, but I think they are brilliant. Animal-shaped rubber bands. Silly Bandz are the "Why-didn't-I-think-of-that?" product of 2010. It's an idea so simple and so universally appealing, it couldn't help but storm every middle school in America.

Blame the kid in me, but when I see these things peeled off my kids' wrists at the end of the day, I'm still sort of amazed that they pop back into neon pink llamas or glow blue ducks. They spend all day stretched into a million functions, but at night they hold the shape of their original form. It's a trend that I can get excited about.

If you've had more than a few discussions about adoption, you've probably encountered people who call it a trend. That's a strange term for the Divine interweaving of a family. As an adoptive parent, it feels a little demeaning, even. However, I can see why people make that assumption.

There is a huge push toward adoption in the Christian community right now. Conferences, radio programs, websites, and books are encouraging families to take the leap, and families are listening. I haven't checked the stats, but the growth seems exponential.

As potential adoptive families have the chance to watch their friends go for it, a vague idea becomes reality before their eyes. As a result, fear and uncertainty wanes. Courage rises with familiarity.

Our family had been praying about adoption for about four years when we encountered an amazing kid from South America on JD's soccer team. That was six years ago. Knowing him pushed us forward some more, and we asked friends to start praying for our decision. Watching my brother and his wife adopt my niece a few years later gave us a chance to experience adoptive love firsthand. Suddenly, this wasn't just something other families did, it was something our family had done. As we felt the time was ripe, the embrace and guidance of local adoptive families shepherded the first wobbly steps of our journey. They have also become our brothers and sisters, holding up our arms when they were tired or scared. Each of these encounters has propelled us forward in our pursuit.

I don't have my eschatology nailed down to a science yet, but if we are truly winding toward the end of many things, a surge of energy for adoption seems to make an awful lot of sense. Go into all nations. Make disciples. Teach them to observe the commands of Christ.

Adoptive parents go into all nations. They make disciples. They teach them to observe the commands of Christ. Shouldn't we have been doing that for the past two thousand years? I think so.

What if a major part of fulfilling the final stages of the Great Commission involves the Father powerfully stirring up masses of His people to make sons and daughters from the uttermost ends of the earth? How beautiful to share the adoptive Fatherhood of God through the adoptive fatherhood of flesh.

Not only are families and children blessed beyond words, but the nationals who see this love are shown a physical manifestation of the gospel. I was an orphan. But I was made a son. This has not gone unnoticed. As one overseas observer commented, "These Christians. They love the children no one here would ever want. There's something different about them."

A fad? The term is too trite. But if it's a trend, it's brilliant. It's the "Why-didn't-I-think-of-that" mission of 2010 and beyond.
Christians en masse, stretching into the shape of loving new families, but retaining shape of their Father. I didn't understand any of this at the beginning, I just fell in love with a little boy halfway around the world. But if this is what's happening big picture, sign me up.

Read more...

the gift of arms' reach




The reality of what's getting ready to happen is finally sinking in today. For the past few months, I've tried so hard to keep my excitement in check. International adoption is an emotional marathon, and the wait can be excruciating. Mothers and children weren't made to be apart like this.

For many months I've been absorbed with paperwork and planning. Actually, that has been a subtle blessing, because these activities have helped occupy my mind and body. Becoming super efficient with document preparation was really all I could give him, so (like most adoptive moms) I did it with all my strength.

As I worked, my son grew silently in the womb of my heart. My working for him has stretched my life until I feel lonely without him.

At this point, we only have about seven weeks left. I'm done with all the paperwork I can do, so my job shifts now to nesting. Today I did some things I wouldn't give myself permission to do last month. Flipping through lots of kids storybooks and finding pants on sale. I bought little bitty underwear and socks today. Then I spent three hours shaving and bathing the dogs, getting them all cleaned up to visit friends when we go overseas.

It feels so good to do normal 'mom' things again. These are the same things I would do for Moses if he were sitting in my shopping cart or playing in the sunroom beside me. I'm not having to learn a whole new language of immigration forms or grant proposals. I'm not staring into a computer screen for hours doing research, or clicking through blogs trying to find out how to speed things up. I'm back into the realm of the familiar. Providing. Nurturing. Preparing. That feels so good. It feels so REAL.

I know that I'll forget a lot of things about this process, but I hope I never forget to be grateful for the gift of just being near my kids. The blessing of having a normal day at arms' reach. I can sense that on the horizon at last, and it's beautiful.

Read more...

The Gospel of International Adoption

Last night, I received an anonymous email that said this:

“i bet you think there are no AMERICAN kids that need adoption look here in your back door -do not help china out AMERICANS need it more” [sic]

As a result of this email, I’d like to share a little story. (Some of you have already read this part in another post. I apologize for that, but I need to link back to this later, so I'll repost...)

Over the past few weeks, Bobby and I have been reading a true book about two boys who began life in a silent orphanage overseas. In our wealthy nation, we know nothing of orphanages like this one.

It was silent because the babies had lost hope. Filthy, crowded, and incredibly poor. No child received enough food. However, the babies learned that no one would come if they cried, so they would sit holding the bars of their cribs, trying to rock themselves for comfort. The only sound in this foreign orphanage was the sound of babies moving themselves silently back and forth, back and forth.

The adoptive parents found their two children there, sitting in noiseless filth. They heard their children cry for the first time on the last night before the adoption was finalized. On that night, they had to leave them in those cribs. And the children shook with weeping because it was the first time they understood being held... being loved... and they never wanted that to end.

Upon adoption, the boys were taken outside. They saw sunlight and felt wind for the first time in their entire lives.

When these kids finally saw the sun and wind, they were terrified. They simply couldn't understand the outside world, nor could they understand the motion of the car that took them away from that horrible place to the home where people loved them. The kids were so scared, they cried and reached back for the orphanage, because it felt safer than sun and wind.

The author compares this experience (these were his children) to how we reach back for the things of earth instead of embracing the new life Jesus offers to us. So often we want to reach backwards into what we know, into our squalid comforts, instead of following God where He takes us. We prefer our culture of ignorance to the light of truth.

My love for America is deep and old. I come from a long line of conservative patriots, and our family works hard to help maintain the foundational principles of this land. I consider compassion one of those principles.

Over the past two hundred and thirty-three years, America has embraced my ancestors when they were impoverished and weak. The Statue of Liberty welcomed them, the tired, the poor, the huddled masses, yearning to breathe free.

English, Scottish, Polish, Scandinavian, and Irish - most of my people and yours were not native to this land. Their skin looked different than those who lived here before them. But still, God used America to provide a haven for these travelers. And through a stumbling, mixed up process full of horrible human errors, many of us live blessed lives now because of God’s mercy to funny-looking, foreign, sinful, strangers.

So should America still provide a refuge for the impoverished and weak traveler? Or were our ancestors the only ones who deserved this gift?

Well, I’m certainly no advocate for a dangerous, uncontrolled immigration system that rapes the resources and principles of our land. That should be stopped. Also the rampant national virus of reverse-discrimination rots American unity. But what about adopting in those who will grow to understand and defend the Constitutional principles of America? What about an intentional, loving embrace that acknowledges the equal values of lives... lives that can grow to benefit the community as well as take from it? And what about tender nourishment for those who are simply too weak to live without a family?

At the end of our family’s journey, we might adopt from within America. I believe that inter-American adoption is a beautiful thing, and we are open to it. But this choice would not be superior to an international adoption. There is no "superior," in these situations.

The calling of God upon each family is unique. And, there are also many complicated reasons why parents may chose one route or another. It doesn’t take much research into adoption to realize that this issue has many different angles. It is arrogant and foolish to make quick assumptions.

There is one issue that is clear, however. The enemy of our souls desires to see hopeless children (who are made in God’s image) wasting away in America AND overseas. he works to make children hungry, sick, and broken. And he yearns to see children born and die in an environment where the name of Jesus is never even spoken.

Our enemy also works to oppress hopeless children through the speech and thoughts of our citizens. Ugly words not only demonstrate little understanding of the true history or principles of America -- they demonstrate little understanding of the principles of Christ.

The Bible is very clear that every single Christian was “adopted” into the kingdom of Christ. We were all strangers and aliens, but God made us His children. Jesus came to our foreign land to bring us out of a dirty, sick, and ugly existence. He did this at great cost. We were His enemies, and yet, God embraced us.

If we are unwilling to extend this same sort of love and compassion toward others who are adopted, perhaps we do not really know Christ at all. Sobering thought.

I can respect a deep love for America. I can also understand the concern that American children need our help. However, the person who wrote this email somehow reminds me very much of the foreign children who were taken from that orphanage. Somewhere, this sad writer has encountered the wind of Love’s story, and it is frightening to her. So, she cries out in protest... longing for the world she has known before. She doesn’t want the world around her to change, so she rocks herself into a numb sort of comfort, calling for the rhythms of a dark room without windows. I feel more pity than anger for her.

I am quieted more by the reminder that God loves this woman. Though she is a foreigner to God’s kingdom... though she is hostile to God’s children.. though she is ignorant, crass, and blind... though she would despise the waiting daughter I adore because of these things... Jesus loves this woman enough to embrace her. To offer her new life. To offer her a clean mind. To offer her a home. His love is this great.

So this is my prayer...

May the God who moves past hostility, and selfishness, and fear... the God who loves foreign strangers, broken and needy ... teach this woman (and all of us) about the wonderful, deep love of adoption. I know of few more beautiful analogies for the gospel.

Read more...

Philippines?

The past few weeks have been interesting. I’ll try to summarize briefly.

I’ve been hearing more and more about rising problems with the Chinese adoption system. Apparently, this country is continuing to accept dossiers while wait times grow and grow. Some people believe that it will shut down overnight, leaving parents who have invested many thousands of dollars without a child.

We are torn about what to do. We have certainly been drawn to Asia, but God never told us that China is the country in Asia we should pursue. And we don’t want to waste money on a process that is futile when children are in need.

So, we opened our hands and started praying. We explored Taiwan’s program, which is supposed to be moving a little more effectively. And we also explored something I hadn’t really considered until Dad mentioned it on the phone... the Philippines.

I’m not sure why we hadn’t considered it. Bobby went to the Philippines last year, and fell in LOVE with the children. Many of the street children live in heartbreaking poverty, yet their smiles still lit up the dirty streets. Bobby kept saying while he was there that he, “Just wanted to bring some of these kids home.”

Also, our church has a significant Filipino population. This would be nice local support for a child to have, I think.

Bobby is heading back to Asia in August. He might make another stop in the Philippines. (The church there is having a 90th anniversary.) It will be interesting to see what happens.

So... are we being led toward the Philippines? It would be wonderful to bring home one child from the Philippines AND one from China. For now, we are praying awfully hard for God to show us where the children He has planned for us are living.

It’s hard to wait. It’s confusing. I’m trying to trust the Father who know what’s best.

Read more...

Article on Trans-Racial Adoption

http://merecomments.typepad.com/merecomments/2008/05/transracial-ado.html

Good article on trans-racial adoption

Read more...

The Question I Never Expected

"Why would you want a child who doesn't look like you?"

Maybe I am naive because I was born after integration. I just didn't realize educated people still wrestled with this stuff.

Growing up, I had Indian, Kenyan, German, French, Jewish, Japanese, and Hispanic friends... and although that was interesting... it just wasn't that big of a deal. Asian exchange students and teachers lived in our home. Again, no big deal.

As a portrait artist, I always thought it was beautiful that different people had such different skin coloring and bone structure. What a creative God we serve! And, as a lover of story, I liked the different cultural nuances. Learning about unusual foods, and traditions, and patterns of life was fascinating!

Sure, I love America. But that doesn't mean I can't love certain things about other cultures as well. There's a huge difference between accepting secular globalization and worshipfully appreciating the unique "imago Dei" reflected throughout the spectrum of humanity.

So, I've been naive. I just ran into the adoption process assuming that the world felt like I did: "How COOL! We don't look the same! I get to discover a whole new sort of beauty now by watching you grow! Won't this be fun?"

Hmmmm.....

"Why would you want a child who doesn't look like you?"

OK, I'm tempted. Next time I want to hand them a mirror, smile, and say, "I'll explain that if you'll tell me why you WOULD want a child who DOES look like you?"

Sigh. No, I won't.

You know, despite the shock and frustration, I'm thankful that God is letting me experience this question now. I can tell that I need to develop a sense of humor about this and toughen up in a few places. It wouldn't be good to raise a child to respond in anger every time this happens. I need to see these situations as opportunities... opportunities to show our world that God's beauty, joy, and grace transcend race... and that our Savior truly loves all the children of the world.

Read more...

About This Blog

Welcome to our family’s adoption journey. As you read, you will see us stumble and take wrong paths. You will see our hopes surge and fall. You will see the gaps in our humanity, and how our God realigns us to His purposes over and again. We think the messiness of this process is important. Sometimes walking with God isn’t a neat, linear package that can be summarized in bullet points. More often, life ebbs and flows around our plans, while God works His sovereign wonders from it all. We are learning so much through this journey. And we are super excited about our new son. If you’d like to join us, we’d love to have you along for the ride.
Fan of kevinandamanda.com! Free Fonts. Recipes. Scrapbooking. Photography. Blog Design. Tutorials. Giveaway. Everything you're into!

  © Blogger template Shush by Ourblogtemplates.com 2009

Back to TOP