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!)



02 September 2014

01 September 2014

Thoughts on 43

  • A giant piece of carrot cake is the perfect way to end a perfect day.
  • I am so rich in family and friends that even Bill Gates is jealous.
  • Well, he would be if he knew me. But he doesn't. His loss.
  • I've had my share of ups and downs in life, but for the most part, I live a pretty charmed life.
  • A quiet house at the end of a long day is a wonderful gift.
  • I love that I spent the majority of my weekend gluing, cutting, painting...creating. Creating makes me feel joyful.
  • I bet that joyful "I just created something!" feeling is the reason God made so much stuff.
  • Yesterday Jack didn't want to take a nap, but I finally convinced him to lie down on my bed and quietly read books with me. He'd look at a few pages and then turn his head to me, put his face next to mine, smile hugely, and say in a high-pitched voice, "Mom! Your birthday is tomorrow! I'm sooooo excited!"
  • My hubs gave me a dishwasher for my birthday. You know you're a grown up when appliances excite you.
  • 43 is so much better than 13 or 23 or even 33. Probably better than 3 too, but I don't remember that much about 3. Because I'm old.
  • I read this quote today: "There are two great days in a person's life - the day we are born and the day we discover why." -William Barclay
  • I've known the "why" part for a while, but the vision has become more tangible this past year. That makes me happy and excited.
     
    I can't wait to see what next year holds.