Last night, we wrote letters to our children in Ethiopia. Ken wrote personal letters to each of them, and I wrote one letter to all three. I wrote the advice I would give them if they were here, living in our home.

Sometimes when I write I think it's for the benefit of the reader, but really it benefits me the most.

So I re-read my letter this afternoon, trying to believe the things I wrote last night--in light of today's circumstances. 

And as I read, I wondered if some of you could benefit from these reminders as well. So insert your own name, as needed, below.

"My dear children, I love you so much and I think about you every day. I look forward to the day when we can see each other again.

As you go back to school after the rainy season break, I want you to remember how important it is to choose your friends wisely. Stay away from kids who lead you into temptation or pressure you to do bad things. Choose friends who are kind, honest, encouraging, and who have good character. 

Tigray, Ethiopia

Always cherish your special friends. Forgive quickly, and don’t let misunderstandings become arguments or end a friendship. You will make mistakes, but always try to do your best. Treat others the way you want to be treated.

When you experience disappointment or hurt, as we all do, don’t keep thinking about those situations or become bitter. Give them to God, because He can take all those bad things and use them for your good.

 

The road leading to our children's orphanage

M....Our youngest daughter

Remember that God is for you, not against you. He loves you so much, and I am praying that He will be very real in your life. I am asking Him to answer your prayers and speak to you through the Bible and in your dreams.

 

Me with M and M

God is directing every step your feet take. He knows the path you are on, and when the future seems uncertain, remember that He can make a way out of no way.

In the Bible, the Israelites didn’t know how to escape their bad situation with the Egyptians. But God had a plan. They started to journey to the Promised Land, but then they came to the mighty Red Sea, and the Egyptians were chasing them. They had nowhere to go. But God opened up the sea and made a pathway right through it! Nobody knew it was possible, but with God nothing is impossible. Nothing! He can do anything!

God delights in every detail of your life, and your prayers will be answered at just the right time. If you feel lonely, remember that you are never alone. God is with you. And even though we are many miles apart, we are together in heart and in spirit.

M...our oldest daughter

You have a mom and a dad and a little brother who all love you very, very much. And so many people are praying for you in the United States… aunts and uncles, cousins, grandmas and grandpas, friends at church, friends at school, friends in our neighborhood… hundreds of people who know your names and love you and want the very best for you. Someday you will meet them and they will say, “Your mom and dad showed us your photos, and I was praying for you!”

 

D, M, me, and M

Listen closely because God wants you to hear His voice. The Bible says He is a Good Shepherd, and we are His sheep. He is whispering to you and saying: “I made you. I love you. I have a purpose and a plan for your life. You are so special to me, and I am going to do amazing things in your life—things that are so good that you can’t even imagine them! Be patient. Keep believing.” 

D—my handsome, strong son: Hold your head up high. You are a child of God, and you will change the world. I love you, D.

M—my beautiful, sweet oldest daughter: Lift up your head, and listen. Your prayers will be answered. Let love in, and be joyful. I love you, M.

M—my charming, pretty youngest daughter: Guard your heart, for your beauty comes from inside, and keep smiling because your happiness warms the heart of everyone you meet. I love you, M.  

Until next time, close your eyes and remember a hug from me. 

Love, 

Mommy

...and there won't be snow in Africa this Christmas time...

This video was shot just 80 miles south of where our Ethiopian children live, 31 years ago. Their parents and grandparents survived this devastation. The U.N. has warned that the current drought in the Tigray Region--where our children live--could become comparable to this Famine of 1984. #BearingWitness #NeverAgain

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I never imagined that another Christmas would be upon us and half of our family would still be across the ocean. The three stockings I bought last year for two young girls and an almost-teenage boy are still in storage. And little ornaments I made for them last December were hung on the tree two weeks ago with sadness in my heart.

Yesterday I opened the dresser drawers in the girls' room, and I found neatly folded shirts and socks and underwear--still in the package. A little jewelry bag that I had forgotten about caught my eye--gold necklaces with the initial of their first names. Christmas dresses and lacy sweaters hang in the closet, and D's brand new bike--the one he's been dreaming of--still sits in the garage, tags dangling from the handlebars.

Ready for school

And I wonder. I wonder if the clothes will still fit them. I wonder if D has learned to ride a bike. I wonder if they will have gifts this Christmas. I wonder if they have food to eat, medicine when they're sick, warm beds on cold nights, and hugs and kisses when they are sad.

We got our bi-monthly update on them today, only 2 months overdue, and I couldn't find a single picture where our now-10-year old girl is smiling. She's the more reserved, quiet one of the bunch, but still, it made me sad.

The report says the children frequently ask about us--when are we coming for them and why we aren't there aleady. D tells the orphanage manager that he's trusting God that someday, someday, he will meet us in person. And the orphanage manager confessed to the social worker that he often ignores or avoids their questions--because he doesn't know how to answer them.

And yet, there's still a glimmer of hope. Hope that the drought in the Tigray Region will force the hand of the regional officials who maintain they can take care of their own; that they don't need foreigners adopting their children.

So despite the irony, we continue to pray for rain. Rain to quench their dried-up land. Rain to nourish their fields and provide food for their people. Rain to melt the hearts of stone.

After all, isn't Advent a season of Hope? Hope in miracles. Hope in goodness. Hope in humanity.

And most of all, hope that the boy Mary delivered ... will soon deliver our boy and his sweet little sisters.

Orphan Sunday

Orphan Sunday was observed this past weekend. It's a day when churches around the world acknowledge that we as Christians are called to defend the fatherless…to care for the child that has no family…to visit orphans in their distress.

Almost three years ago our family decided to adopt internationally, and 1.5 years ago we learned about a sibling set of 3 who needed a family. The moment we learned about them, we knew we wanted them to be our children. We weren't sure how it would all turn out, but God kept saying, "Just take the next step." 

And so we did. We took a lot of steps. And so many of you held our hands as we moved forward. You supported us financially, emotionally, and spiritually. You prayed for us and encouraged us. And you all became a part of our story, a part of our children's story...a part of the story God is still writing.
 
I wish I knew how the story will end. We want M (age 8), M (age 10), and D (age 12-almost 13) to be a part of our family. And they say they want to be a part of our family. But pride (on the part of their government), politics, and corruption have way-laid our best attempts to bring them home.

I'm not going to lie...it's the most frustrating, heart-breaking, complex, confusing, difficult thing we've ever gone through. It makes no sense. And it's possible we will never realize our dreams, nor theirs. But we won't give up until the last door is slammed shut, locked, and bolted. Because three little kids need a family, and we love them with all our hearts. 

Will you pray for our children and the millions of other orphans around the world? I can't even imagine what it would be like to grow up without a mom and dad to love me, care for me, protect me, teach me, and kiss me goodnight. 

Thanks for all your love...on behalf of our family here and across the ocean.

‪#‎FourMillionMinusThree‬

Adoption Update

So many of you have joined us on this journey, and we are thankful. We wanted to give you a brief update on a very complicated situation. We have not given up on the children. Things seem somewhat bleak, but we are still working with our team in Ethiopia to get the three siblings home.

There are letters being written, appeals being made (not to the judge as he won't hear any but other avenues), and meetings being held with key players. The next week is fairly critical as we wait for answers from some government officials. 

If that doesn't turn out favorable, we will wait until October when some new officials will be installed in the Court and hope they will agree to hear our appeal.

We learned today that the children's orphanage expects to close; they have found local Ethiopian families for the other children but not for ours or for one other little girl. (A sweet family in Utah has been trying to adopt her for more than 2 years.)

We also believe there are only 1 or 2 families still trying to adopt children from this Region of Ethipia; the others have all given up. We, however, won't give up until the door is slammed shut, locked, bolted, and barricaded. And even then we may keep pushing. We're not superheroes by any means...we're just a mom and a dad and a brother fighting to give three beautiful children what every child deserves...a family.

Raw Honest Truth

A friend asked me recently if there was any news on our international adoption because she hadn't seen a blog post in a long time. I was reminded that not everybody is on Facebook, so some people don't get my regular updates.

I haven't blogged in a while because it feels like I'm always saying the same thing about our adoption: we need one more paper (and that paper always is changing); it's out of our hands; your prayers are appreciated.

And that's pretty much where we're still at, but with an added urgency for an expedited process. The Federal Court in Ethio closes every year for a "rainy season" closure. We don't know the exact dates this year (they tend to change from year to year), but most likely they will close from August 6 until mid-October.

So, if we don't get a court date ASAP, we're looking at several more months before M, M, and D can join our family. Typically when the judge agrees to hear a case, he sets a court date about 4-6 weeks later. So it is imperative that we get a date ASAP to beat the August 6 closure.

I was asked recently via email how I'm dealing with the delays, and this is how I responded:  

This morning as I checked email yet again hoping to hear some good news from our agency, I was reminded of back when I was single and obsessed with some guy, and I would constantly check voice mail/email, etc. for a message. It's the same now. I'm addicted to checking for messages.


When I do get a message from our agency--and it's about something other than our kids--I am supremely annoyed. Like how dare they waste my time with info about a conference call recording or a new webinar or a program update! My feelings aren't particularly rational or logical. :) I vacillate between having a great attitude and being fully confident that God will accomplish this at just the right time ... to being all-out angry and frustrated and disappointed with God. Sometimes I ride the roller coaster several times in one day. And wow is it tiring! I've never been so tired in all my life from doing nothing but waiting. My mind feels preoccupied most of the day.


And then there's all the FB adoption groups I'm a part of. Some are super encouraging and informative, but others are like watching a train wreck. It kills me to hear stories of children who were probably trafficked, and the adoptive parents are the last to find out. Or their home becomes a living hell after the child gets home, and they question whether they should have adopted. 

God has clearly only given me grace for today (most days!) but I am not equipped to deal with possible future problems for which I have not been graced-up.

We willingly stepped into this journey knowing it would be difficult, so we're certainly not looking for sympathy. But my best self-therapy is writing, and the best thing for our family is prayer. Hopefully today's raw, honest truth accomplishes both.

Thanks for walking with us. We love and appreciate you.

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.

Hopes and Dreams

I had a conversation with two of my cousins last year that has stuck with me. We talked about our hopes and dreams for our kids, and how we want more for our kids.

I don't think that's unusual--most parents wants their kids to go further and be more successful than they have been. But my cousins and I were not talking about material success. We were talking about the desire to see our children have a greater faith in God than we do. To love Jesus more than we do. To be more diligent in prayer, steadfast in love, and saturated in grace.

When I think about the children that Ken and I are adopting, I think about the dramatic change in course their lives will take in a few months. They don't know it yet, but they will be given the chance to go further and do more than their biological parents. They won't worry about whether there will be enough food to fill their growling tummies. They won't die of malnutrition or treatable disease. Water will be clean and safe to drink. They will get an education that rivals the best in the world. And they will have a family who never gives up on them, loves them forever and ever, no matter what may come.

But will they think about the years they lost in the orphanage? Will they wonder if God forgot them?

It would be great if they are on the honor roll, excel in sports, get a scholarship to university, meet and marry a wonderful person, live in a comfortable house, and have a high-paying job.

But ultimately none of that matters to me. I want them to know God. I want them to believe without a doubt that He was always there, always watching, always loving--even when their future looked bleak. I want them to experience God's goodness, His kindness, His favor.

Of course I want this for Jackson as well, but it's my special prayer for these three children who have faced so much hardship in their young lives.

This song gives me chills every time I hear it. It's been true in my life, and I pray it's true for my children as well.