16 November 2014

And the Winner Is...

Now that I have you attention, I want to write about something other than the winner of the free book. But I promise...I will tell you the results of our drawing in just a minute.

I was sitting in church this morning thinking about our Ethiopian kids and some of the recent snags we've hit in the process. They aren't anything major at this point, but they are annoying little things that delay bringing our children home.

I could be mad at the Ethiopian government for changing the rules mid-game. I could be upset with out agency for not foreseeing these issues. But they aren't the enemy.

There is an Enemy, and he is very real. He's called a Liar and a Thief, and for good reason.

He lies to me and to you and to my kids in Ethio all the time. He says we're not good enough. He says we don't belong. He says nobody will ever love us. He says we're unworthy. He says things will get worse.

And he steals. He steals our joy. He steals our hope. He steals parents from children. He steals our mental and physical health. He steals our sense of well-being.

I believe every snag we hit in this adoption is another attempt by the Liar and the Thief to keep our kids from having what every child deserves--a mom and a dad. A family. Grandmas and grandpas. Aunts and Uncles and cousins. Because if you don't have any of those things, it's hard to believe in a good God who loves you.

I can't think of anyone more vulnerable than a child without a family to love and protect him.

And I believe the Liar and the Thief would like to prevent our kids from belonging to a family and a church family who loves them and tells them the truth about God, about life, about death, and about themselves.

You can fully trust the Liar to do what he does best: lie. And usually about the things that are the most important.


If you are the praying sort, would you say a prayer this week for our kids? There are some important meetings where our Ethiopian team will meet with government officials to try to find out just what they need to provide to get things moving. Decisions will be made which we have no control of.

But God...

The authorities that exist in Ethiopia have been established by God. Their hearts are in God's hands. That's what the Bible says, and I choose to believe it.

God is able. More than able.


And now...on to the original purpose for this blog... our WINNER!

We printed every comment that was left on the blog and on Facebook, and we cut them into strips which we folded and put in a bag. At dinner Saturday night, we had Jackson pull out a piece of paper. And he pulled out... mine! For real. Forty some strips of paper, and he pulls out the one we accidentally included (I had commented on the FB post).  #ThatsMyBoy

Not to worry, we had Jack choose another one, and I'm super happy with his second random draw. 

The winner is a fellow adoptive mom and Wheatonite, a writer, and an advocate for modern-day slaves. She has authored 13 books (maybe more?) and is an avid reader. She's been a part of the same book club for more than 15 years. I first met her more than 15 years ago because her husband was my boss. Now that I freelance, I'm my own "boss," and I like to joke that he is *still* the best boss I've ever had.

*Drum roll, please...

Congratulations to Terri Kraus! Let me know which of the books you'd like, and I'll get it right out to you.

Thanks to everyone who left comments. It was encouraging and fun to see all the people who were reading.

OH, and just for fun, after we pulled Terri's name, I let Ken pull a name out of the bag. Guess who he pulled? His mom. Like father like son. :)

12 November 2014

Unwrapping the Gift

It's been a really strange couple of weeks, and I've hesitated to blog about it for two reasons. First, it's hard to put in words something you haven't fully processed. And second, there's the matter of privacy. How much is appropriate to share in a public forum? What is helpful, interesting, and/or informative so that readers can pray for our growing family?

As I told you in a previous blog, the boy we are adopting went to court to say whether or not he wanted to be adopted. The initial report was simply that he did very well and everything turned out as expected.

We didn't get any more details for several days because the email of our team in Ethiopia wasn't working. When we finally got pictures of the children unwrapping our gift books--and the full report on what happened--I couldn't quite process everything.


I remember the first time I left our son Jack with someone other than a family member. He was just a few months old, and the church we attended at the time offered a Mom's Day Out. For just a few dollars, you could leave your child in the capable hands of a nursery worker for several hours on a weekday.

Being a stay-at-home writer and editor, I thought this was a great idea. But as soon as I dropped off Jack, my heart sank. I missed him so much I could hardly stand it. All the cliques applied: I felt like I was missing my right arm. I felt like I'd left my heart in that nursery and was walking around without it.

I was miserable.

When they called me 45 minutes later to tell me Jack had been crying and they couldn't calm him down, I was secretly happy. I raced back to the church as fast as I could to get my child back in my arms.

That's a mother for you. At least with her firstborn, and at least for the first few months. Now Jack goes off to preschool twice a week, and neither of us sheds a tear. But I still miss him when we're apart for an extended period of time. I wonder what he's doing. I wonder if he's happy. I wonder if he's sharing all the family secrets. I wonder if he made it to the potty in time.

He is always on my mind.


Our three soon-to-be-adopted children in Ethiopia are always on my mind as well.  

Will they like it here? Are the decorations in this bedroom too baby-ish for an 11 year old? Is this coat going to fit her? Will it be warm enough? I wish I could find a coat in yellow since that is her favorite color, but all I can find is pink and purple! How will they do in school? Should I homeschool them? Will they be kind to Jackson? Will Jackson be normal jealous or crazy jealous? Will they be the only chocolate-skinned kids at their school? Will other kids like them? Will they be teased because of their foreign names and thick accents?

And after the report and photos we got two weeks ago, my thoughts have started including ones like these:

Is that a smile on her face as she looks at the photo book we sent? Do they feel scared at the size of their new school building? What does it feel like to go to court and say your circumstances are so bleak that you are willing to be adopted by an unknown family who live in a foreign country where you will know no one, save your two siblings? 

What does it feel like to tell your social worker, "I know what adoption is, but I never thought it would happen for us because we've waited all these years in the orphanage." And how did he feel when he asked, "How soon will my new parents come and get us?"

My mind is constantly processing these ideas. Now that our children know about us, I want them right now. I don't want them to wait one second longer, and yet...there is nothing I can do to speed the process along.

The Ministry of Women and Children in Ethiopia has suddenly changed the rules--they want originals on all the important paperwork. Previously they accepted copies. That means our team in Ethiopia has to scramble to get originals of who-knows-how-many documents.


When I was pregnant, everyone told me to enjoy the pregnancy--that the baby would be here soon enough and then I'd be enduring many sleepless nights. But still, I couldn't wait to meet my son.

Nobody is telling us to enjoy the adoption process because we all know that three children are going to bed tonight without a mother and father to tuck them in, to kiss them goodnight, to pray with them.

And that breaks my heart. I am going about my usual business--writing, editing, meeting with friends, going to church, babysitting, attending parties--like everything is normal. But nothing is normal. We have three children who are waiting for us, and I hate being away from them.


My husband tells me that for every comment I get on my blog, there's at least 10 other readers who don't comment.

He heard that statistic years ago, and I'm pretty sure it was before the advent of Facebook links and the ability to simply hit "Like."

That's why I'm doing a giveaway this week...to see who my readers actually are. Anyone who leaves a comment on this blog will be entered into a drawing to receive a free book. The winner can choose any of the following books and it will be mailed directly to them. The winner may choose from threse books:

The Best Christmas Pageant Ever by Barbara Robinson
Called a simple, enchanting tale...warm and funny and thoroughly unpredictable.
Publishers Weekly calls this "one of the best Christmas books ever."

Unwrapping the Greatest Gift by Ann Voskamp
A beautifully illustrated book to celebrate the Advent season together as a family.

The Jesus Storybook Bible by Sally Lloyd-Jones
A Moonbeam Award Gold Medal Winner and one of my favorite books!

The Greatest Gift: Unwrapping the Full Love Story of Christmas by Ann Voskamp

A New York Times Bestseller, this book is an Advent calender and a devotional all in one.

Any of these books will make your Christmas more meaningful...or the winner could use the prize as a stocking stuffer.

Leave your comment in the section below to be entered to win! We'll announce a winner this weekend.

31 October 2014

A Quick Update

Our social worker messaged me a little while ago and said she'd received an email from Ethiopia saying D. did great in court today and all went well! She didn't have any more details, but that is more than sufficient for now.

Also got a call from our realtor. Some of you may know that we've been trying to sell our condo in Florida. (We were renting it, but currently it's vacant and on the market.) After a long stretch with no interest, someone viewed the place today, and while he didn't make an offer yet, we are hopeful.

Thank you for your prayers.

And if you want to buy a beautiful condo in Florida, just 12 minutes drive from the beach, located on the gorgeous Lake Emerald, let me know! Apparently it's a hot property. :)

21 October 2014

Where Things Stand

If you saw my status update today on Facebook, you know that I took a bit of a tumble. I singlehandedly tried to move a desk from our basement to our main level.

The desk is not a heavy one, but it is somewhat large. I made it up several stairs, with my 3-year-old boy cheering me on from behind. Just as I neared the landing where the stairs turn, I lost my balance, my legs buckled, and everything started moving in slow motion.

I was falling. The desk was falling. We were both crashing toward my son. I had the presence of mind to tell Jack to move out of the way, and luckily he wasn't hurt. The desk and I did not fare as well.

I saw this pin on Pinterest RIGHT AFTER I fell. #Hilarious
Moral of the story is that some things in life cannot be done by yourself. You need help in order to be successful.

Adoption is the same way. So many of you have come alongside us and helped us and prayed for us. And we are so grateful. So I wanted to let you know where things stand, and how you can continue to pray for us.

Right now there are some crucial things going on here in the USA and in Ethiopia.

First, what's happening in the USA: Our children's papers are being reviewed by the United States Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS). Before we can move forward with the adoption, we need their blessing. This process can take 8-12 weeks, and we've been in it for about 4 weeks. According to our agency, the USCIS has been requesting additional paperwork on most cases, and that slows things down considerably. Our agency did everything they could to cross all their t's and dot all their i's, but whether USCIS thinks it's enough to prove the legitimacy of the children's orphan status is debatable. A lot of it depends on the person reviewing the case.

If you are a praying person, we would really appreciate your prayers for a favorable review and no request for additional evidence.

This is also an intense time in Ethiopia. We've been informed that we've been assigned a Guardian Court Date for October 31. We are not required to be at this court appearance; it is for the children's current guardian (the orphanage manager) to state again that they truly are orphans and that they are OK with an international adoption.

But here's the interesting part. Any child being adopted who is 11 or older must also appear in court and state that they want to be adopted.

Our son is 11, so he will also appear.

He and his younger sisters are residing in northern Ethiopia, and federal court is in the capital city. It is not a terribly far distance, but road conditions would make going by car very difficult. So he and his guardian will get up early in the morning, fly to Addis Ababa, where they will be joined by our agency's social worker. They will go to court, and "D" will say whether he wants to be adopted.

I hope he says yes. I think he will, but it is his choice. His sisters have no say in the matter because of their age, and he is very close to them, so even if he has doubts, I think he will want to do it so he can stay with them.

That is pretty big.

But something else pretty big is going to happen on that day as well. Our agency's social worker is going to tell him about us. While he and his sisters know they will be adopted, we don't think they've been told anything about us. At this meeting he will be presented with three photo books we made--one for him, one for his sister L, and one for his sister M. The books contain pictures of our family, our home, and places they will frequent when they live here such as their school, church, downtown area, etc. We also included cards for each child with a personal message.

The social worker will talk through everything with him and explain the books. I don't know if this will occur before he makes his court appearance or after....I'm guessing maybe before so he can be more informed?

I have to be honest. I have that same nervous feeling you get when you're on a first date. I really hope he likes us. It seems silly when I type the words into the computer, but it's how I feel. I want him to like us and want to be a part of our family.

Later that evening, D will fly back to Northern Ethio to his orphanage. He will be given a big responsibility: to share the books with his sisters and explain everything to them.

Will you pray for D on Oct. 31? (No, they don't celebrate Halloween in Ethio, in case you're wondering.) It will be so much information for him to take in. I know as the older brother he feels a certain sense of responsibility for his sisters, and he wants the very best for them. Please pray that everything goes smoothly--from the flight to the meeting with the social worker and, of course, the court appearance. Pray that God will prepare D and his sisters to be a part of a family after a very long time without one. Pray that their young hearts will be flooded with peace and joy.

Someone recently said to me, "I'm sure they will be so happy and so grateful to find out about you!" I hope she is right, but in actuality, change is hard. Change is scary. And some people are resistant to change. It's hard to leave every.single.thing you know and hold dear and venture out to a new beginning. Or at least I imagine it's hard. Actually, I can't imagine it at all. I would be terrified.

But God...

He started this process, and we are confident He will complete it for His glory, for our joy, and for the well being of these three children whom He loves so dearly.

Hopefully we will get some news late in the day on the 31st and be able to share it with you. Until then, please keep praying.

Love to you and yours,

17 October 2014

Shut Up

So yesterday I was sitting in a coffee shop, trying to do some freelance work, when I noticed a middle-aged man walk in. I did a double take, because he looked slightly familiar to me, but I couldn't quite place him. He eyed me suspiciously as well, and then looked around nervously.

Turns out he was meeting another man--not sure if he was a friend, a mentor, or a pastor of some sort. But the two sat right behind me, so I was privy to quite a bit of their conversation, and it seemed like a confessional of some sort.

Now, before I go any further, let me say that I'm all for accountability and confessing/sharing with friends. But I'm also for listening, and for having a teachable spirit.

Let me explain. Man #1 seemed to do ALL the talking. Or at least all the loud talking. He was telling Man #2 about his marital problems, and how his wife had left him, and what a terrible sinner he was, how merciful God is, and blah, blah, blah, blah.

For nearly an hour, Man #1 verbally puked all over Man #2. It didn't seem like he was seeking advice, since Man #2 barely got a word in edgewise. It was just talk, talk, talk. Excuses, excuses, excuses. My wife never...and My wife won't. But God ... My church ... My bible study... Blah, blah blah.

I am not unfamiliar with this type of man. I know someone else quite well who likes to talk about what a terrible sinner he is and how he messed up his marriage, but he always adds in little digs about his wife, insinuating that a lot of the problems are her fault. And two years counting, he hasn't changed a bit.

So yesterday when I heard this middle-aged, quite respectable looking man, going on and on about how close he was to God but not taking even a second to receive counsel from the man he was with, I wanted to do something.

I wanted to stand up, walk over to his table, grab his shoulders, and shout, "SHUT UP. Quit talking and start doing. Go home to your wife and work on your marriage. Quit talking about God's grace and forgiveness and start reflecting it."

I'm so tired of "Christian" men being unkind to their wives. You stood before God and witnesses and promised to love her, care for her, cherish her, and protect her. And now the person who is supposed to be protecting her is the person she needs protecting from.

When I got up to leave, I took a long look at the man in the denim shirt and the pressed, pleated khakis. He looked at me, too, and I wonder if he knew I was on to him and his sort.

I drove away, thanking God that my husband is kind. Loving, Teachable. And a great listener.

25 September 2014

Black and White

I'm sitting in Starbucks, where I should be working on a freelance project, but am instead staring at three little faces on my computer screen.

Joy and sorrow. Elation and grief. Every adoption is borne in tragedy and loss. A mother dies. A father dies. Children are left without the most basic need: someone to care for them. Someone to love them.

But God. ... He places the lonely in families. He cares for the orphans. He makes beauty from ashes. He turns mourning into dancing.

Today 168 pages of documentation have been sent to the United States Citizenship and Immigration Services. Fifty-six pages for each child we are adopting...proof that they are indeed orphans. Testimony from witnesses who know their family and can verify their parents are dead and they are in need of care. Birth certificates. Death certificates. Official translations.

Ken and I knew much of the children's history, but there's something about seeing their parent's death certificate in black and white.

A  mother died. I wonder what her final thoughts were. I try not to think about it too much. The thought of it is almost too much for my heart to bear.

But joy... The documentation also includes baby pictures of our three Ethiopian children, pictures I had never seen before. They are black and white, and photocopied on the world's worst photocopy machine. But I see their eyes. I see their little ears and mouths and all the things a mother loves.

Tears of joy, tears of sadness.

The next part of the process usually takes 12 weeks, and then we're getting really close to the Big Day. Twelve weeks from today would be just before Christmas.

I can't think of a better gift.

11 September 2014

Do Over

Great news for all of you who have long abandoned your New Year's resolutions:

Today is a new day, a new year. Time for a Do-Over...if you need one.

In Ethiopia, they follow the Coptic calendar, which celebrates the New Year on Sept. 11.

Today I'm an honorary Ethiopian. Do you want to be one too?

Here's another reason to consider being Ethiopian for a day: In Ethiopia the year is 2007. Seriously. (If you don't believe me, check this out: this.)

So if you woke up stiff and sore this morning...if you're feeling like your age is catching up with you...deduct 7 years from your current age and live accordingly.

Reset your internal clocks, my friends! Melkem Addis Amet! (Happy New Year!)