Debunking Childhood Songs, an Adoption Update, and a Prayer Request

 

No doubt you’ve heard the saying, “God helps those who help themselves.”

I hate that saying.

First, it puts the burden on the one who needs help. And second. it’s contrary to everything I read in the Bible.

In fact, the Bible says God delights in helping those who are weary, helpless, and fresh out of options. His power is made perfect in weakness. His timing is perfect, and no good thing does He withhold. That’s what I read, and that’s what I’ve experienced.

As most of you know, after a 3-year long adoption process, we had a successful court date in Ethiopia at the end of December. We were so thankful when a federal judge officially granted our adoption of Dawit, Meron, and Menalush. But now, 23 days later, we still don’t have custody. These weeks have been emotional and difficult because while these children are legally ours, we aren’t able to be with them.

The reasons are purely political. The region where they are from (and where their current orphanage is located) remains opposed to international adoption. So, while we have a federal adoption decree from Ethiopia, their particular region within Ethiopia is refusing to release them.

Our kids are in the Tigray Region.

Our lawyer in Ethiopia has spent the last few weeks in and out of various court buildings and government offices seeking the release of our children, but he continues to encounter one roadblock after another. The details are far too complicated to share, and if it wasn’t so tragic, it would be comically bizarre.

The next step is a court date next Tuesday. In theory, the judge should force the region to comply with the adoption at that hearing. We are hopeful, but we are also realistic that it may take more time. It’s the “back and forth,” as our agency calls it, of political pawns and powerless puppets.

So we continue to ask for your prayers for our children and our family. Please pray that God would soften and convict the hearts of the governing officials and that they would immediately release our kids so we can finally get our children to the capital city (Addis Ababa), start their physical exams for immigration (another 8 weeks), and then bring them home.

I know many of you are shaking your heads, saying this makes no sense. We agree. It’s hard to explain something we don’t understand ourselves. But we are trusting God to make order out of chaos and to intervene where we cannot. This process has tested our faith, but we have seen so many miracles that we can’t deny His goodness, His love for our family, and His sovereign reign over … well, everything. And everyone.

In the Gospel of Mark, a father who is seeking help for his child says to Jesus, “I believe that with God all things are possible, but help my unbelief!”

That’s how I feel a lot of the time. I believe God, but I’m human. I have doubts and fears like everyone, so I need help with my unbelief. The great thing is that whether I believe or not, the Truth remains.

There’s a song I learned as a child in Sunday School. The lyrics say:

“God said it.

I believe it.

And that settles it for me.”

It’s a cute song…but the middle sentence isn’t necessary. God said it, and that settles it.

He cares for orphans. He loves our children.

And He will work this out for our joy and His glory.

A Difficult Task

For those of you not on our Facebook page, and/or who haven't heard, it looks like our adoption isn't going to happen.

I could recite all the explanations they've given us, but not one makes sense. As our agency told us, it's mind boggling.

Yesterday Jack and I were out shopping, and he spotted a pink pair of pants. "Mom! I think M would love those!" I smiled and nodded.

A few minutes later he saw some ruffly dresses. "Mom, we should buy those for the girls!"

I smiled again.

"Don't you want to put them in the cart, Mom?"

"Honey, I don't think M, M, and D are going to live with us. Remember, I told you that the Judge said no?"

"Mom, you have to keep hoping if you want it to happen!"

"Oh Sweetie. I do want it to happen, but it doesn't look like they'll be coming."

"Maybe we need to pray more. You know, we haven't prayed about it lately."

I changed the subject, and he forgot. For now.

I couldn't tell him that I pray with every breath, but that I don't pray aloud with him because I don't want him to doubt God. The way I do sometimes.

A few days ago I told Ken that I wanted to buy new linens for the girls' room, the room that will now be an extra room. We're having various guests over the next few months, and I can't bear to have the girly lavender quilts on the beds. They were bought for the girls,and the thought of someone else using them makes me too sad.

It really was the sweetest little girls' room you could ever imagine. The picture doesn't do it justice.

So tonight we removed the girls' quilts and replaced them with gray and white damask quilts. The walls are still lavender; we don't have the energy to re-paint them. It's fine. The room seems drab without the bright pink rug and the polka dot bedding, but it will do. It doesn't scream "little girl room," and that was the main thing we wanted.

D was going to share a room with Jack, so no major changes are necessary in there. The next task will be the clothing. The dressers are full of pajamas, still with the tags on them. Underwear and socks still in the package. Tshirts and jeans and shorts. Dresses and jackets and boots and shoes and hairbows and jewelry and coloring books and Amharic-English dictionaries, and little pink dollhouses and a brand new 10-speed bike in the garage for D, price tag still hanging from the handles.

There's so much to do. So many decisions to make. But not today.

Next week we'll have a conference call with our team in Addis; I guess so they can tell us they tried everything they could and that this journey has come to an end. But until then, I'll hold on to the tiniest sliver of hope. Because we promised M, M, and D we wouldn't leave them as orphans. That we would come for them. And so we can't leave any stone unturned.

What to Do

Nearly everyone knows the story of Daniel and the lions’ den. As punishment for breaking the law, Daniel is forced to spend a (probably) sleepless night with ferocious felines as bedfellows, but when morning comes, Daniel is unscathed. All praise is given to God who shut the mouths of the lions.

It’s a wonderful story of God’s protection for His faithful followers. However, it also showcases the behaviors...

(I shared this blog over at Calvary Fort Lauderdale recently. To read more, click here. )

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.

We Have a Plan

Doesn't every obstacle seem easier when a plan is in place?

Well, we have a plan. [big sigh of relief]

We received our negative recommendation today from the Ministry, as expected. Only 1 day after it was supposed to come, so that is good!

Besides the "you don't have one paper and we still need it," they have also requested an updated license from our children's orphanage director.

The director *thinks* it will take between 10-14 days to get his renewed license.

Once this is received, our team in Ethiopia will file our case at Court. We are petitioning the Court to review the case, as is, and to agree to hear our case without a positive recommendation from the Ministry. If that happens, Ken and I will fly to Ethiopia to meet with the children and to go to Court. (!!!!)

In the past few weeks, several cases like ours have been successful, and we are hoping, praying, and dreaming for a similar outcome.

I feel a little like the widow in the Bible who kept banging at the Judge's door, demanding justice in her case. He finally relented because he was tired of being harassed.

I'm sure some of you are tired of my "banging" at your doors, requesting prayers to "bang" at the doors of heaven. And if that's the only reason you're praying, that's OK. Believe me, I'm tired and humbled to continue asking for prayers.

If it weren't for three beautiful brown children who are in need of a mom and dad, I would've given up long ago.

Thank you, friends. We appreciate each and every one of you so much.

Looking forward to good news in the near future...

Luann

Impossible

Around the time Ken and I started this thing called "the adoption journey," we were at a party at my cousin's house. Now you have to understand that when Lori throws a party, there are lots of people and lots of good food.

I don't remember the occasion, but there were a lot of people there. A lot. Most of whom I didn't know.

Lori and her "tribe," (friends, family, etc.) are some people of serious faith. They are Jesus- invoking, God-fearing, bursting-at-the-seams-with-faith kind of people. So when a man we met at the party learned we were adopting, I wasn't surprised that he wanted to pray over us.

I don't remember the man's name, what he looked like, or much about him. But I do remember his prayer. Mostly because it lasted for about 15 minutes--while we stood next to a trampoline in the backyard, and also because he prayed big. BIG, big prayers over us. That God would do more than we could ever imagine. That money would come from the least likely places. That God would show Himself through this process.

At that time we thought we were adopting one child. And we needed about $42,000.

On the car ride home, Ken and I were kind of quiet. I think this man's prayers kind of spooked us. Where did his faith come from, and was he prophesying some sort of huge "thing"?

Fast forward to now. We're adopting three kids. THREE. One who is a pre-teen. (Lord have mercy.) We've seen money come out of rocks, and God has supplied all of our needs.

[There were a few bumps along the way, like the time the social worker was coming over to do our home visit, and that morning the street sewer backed up into our pipes and nearly overflowed our bathtubs (sewage, people!) and we were without water all day, not to mention the clean up.]

After all this, we're told the Ministry has a May 12 deadline to write our recommendation, and all the powers that be are convinced it will be a negative recommendation....if they even honor the deadline. And then we'll have to go to Ethio Federal Court and attempt to have them overrule it. Which, quite honestly, I believe they will.

But what a hassle.

I was thinking today that I wished I could get that mysterious praying man back over here to pray for us again. For a miracle positive recommendation from the Ministry. And not just for our three children, but also for a three year girl at their orphanage who has a family in Utah waiting to bring her home as well. For an expedited process. For quick and just and godly decisions by leaders who may or may not believe in God.

But although I don't have that man, I have all of you. So I'm going to throw out a quick challenge. There are 13 days until our May 12 deadline. Will 20 of you join us in praying once every day for a positive recommendation, an expeditious process, and favor with those in authority?

Our 7-year old girl needs a home. Our 9-year old girl needs a home. Our 12-year old boy needs a home. The 3-year old girl at their orphanage needs a home. They all need nutritious food, adequate medical care, a mom and dad, a church family, neighbors and friends who have their best interests in mind.

If you are willing to be one of the twenty, like this post, leave a comment, or send me a message.

<3

I suck at praying (but I rock at altered lyrics)

I'm a terrible pray-er.

I think I used to be better at it, but over the years my time spent praying has consistently dwindled.

I'd like to blame it on having a 4-year-old child constantly underfoot, but that's not totally true. I know prayer works--I've seen too many other-worldly experiences not to believe. But I get overwhelmed.

Like lately. I try praying for M, M, and D who are stuck in Ethiopia, waiting for our adoption to be finalized. I try praying for my sweet mother-in-law who is courageously fighting Stage 4 cancer. I try to pray about the sale of our condo in Florida that is supposed to close this Thursday--and for which we have to bring $13K+ to the closing. (#UpsideDownTimesAMillion) I try praying for my hubby and the writing deadlines he has for his book deal.

But more often than not my prayers devolve into something like Anne Lamott's book on the three great prayers: "Help, Thanks, Wow." (With an emphasis on the HELP portion.)

Sometimes I manage to utter whole sentences such as, "Lord, have mercy." And I feel proud of myself for having both a subject and a verb in my sentence.

And maybe, probably, my non-poetic utterances are OK. God knows. It's not like He needs a debriefing on our situations.

This past Sunday in church, we were singing "Mighty to Save" The lyrics go like this:

Saviour, he can move the mountains
My God is mighty to save
He is mighty to save

I started thinking about the mountains in my life and the first thing that came to mind was MOWA, the Ethiopian Ministry that must sign off on our kids' adoption. So, with a smile on my face, I sang my revised lyrics in to Ken's ear:

Saviour, he can move the MOWA
My God is mighty to save
He is mighty to save

Then we sang "Your Grace is Enough" by Chris Tomlin. Once again, I inserted my own lyrics:

So remember Your people
Remember *our* children
Remember Your promise
Oh God

I have to admit, I felt rather clever singing these new lyrics. While I'm no Weird Al Yankovic, this felt like one of my more brilliant moments. I always get songs stuck in my head, so when I turn the stuck-in-my-head song lyrics into a personal prayer of sorts, I'm praying constantly. 

For my mother-in-law, who is thousands of miles away from us, I like these revised lyrics of Kari Jobe:

When she walks through deep waters
I know that You will be with her
When she's standing in the fire

She will not be overcome
Through the valley of the shadow

She will not fear

She is not alone
She is not alone
You will go before her
You will never leave her

In the midst of deep sorrow
I see Your light is breaking through
The dark of night will not overtake her
We are pressing into You
Lord, You fight her every battle
And we will not fear

I haven't found a song yet for my hubby that says, "Stop procrastinating and finish the stupid book," but I haven't given up looking.

What about you...any songs that you like to sing as your own? What do your prayers look or sound like during this season of your life?

 

Game Change

I haven't blogged about our adoption in more than a month. In a lot of scenarios no news is good news. In this case, no news isn't great because it means our kids are spending another day, another week, and another month in an orphanage without a mom and a dad.

It's such a complicated situation, and because of language and cultural differences, even we don't understand it fully. But I'll try to break it down, and then tell you about the new plan of action.

The key players:

• Our kids-D, a 12 year old boy; M, a 9 year old girl, and L, a 7 year old girl. They have been in an orphanage since L was a baby, which in my estimate is about 7 years too long.
• Mr. S, our kids advocate in Ethiopia; he also happens to be Ethiopian so he understand the culture and he has amazing access to government officials and people in power
• The government officials in the state in which our kids live.
• The Federal government in Ethio.
• The "Ministry," a division that is roughly equivalent to our Dept. of Child and Family (DCFS) but on a federal level. 

The Requirements for Adoption (greatly simplified):

• A required set of papers must be collected at the state level; they are then submitted to the Ministry. The Ministry writes a letter of recommendation and passes it on to the Federal Court, and they complete the adoption.
• The required set of papers includes things such death certificates for the parents, testimony from friends and family that nobody is able to care for the children, birth certificates for the children, a list of all family members, names, addresses, social/physical/emotional exams for the children, all of our papers (doctor reports, references, letters from employers, police records, background checks, etc.) etc. etc. Hundreds of pages of documents. All must be notarized, translated, and authenticated.
• All of these papers are for the safety of the children. There is a terrible history of child trafficking, black-market babies, bribes, and corruption. And also of some American parents adopting Ethio children and then abusing them, starving them, and not being good parents.

The problem (again, greatly simplified):

• At one time international adoption was legal in all of Ethiopia.
• In recent years, the decision to allow int'l adoption has been put in the hands of the states, and some states have exercised their right to no longer allow it.
• Our children's state previously allowed int'l adoption, but about 18 months ago decided to stop them.
• Our kids were approved by the state and all necessary papers were collected before they stopped allowing adoptions.
• After their state stopped adoptions, the Ministry changed the required set of papers. They now require an additional signed letter saying an investigation was done and no local options for adoption were found. (Understandably, they would prefer if Ethio kids were adopted by Ethio parents and kept in country.)
• So now we have the rub: The Ministry wants this one additional letter. The children's state officials refuse to give that letter--partly because they feel what they provided was sufficient evidence, and partly because they no longer have an adoption "division," per se. 
• The Ministry won't budge without the letter; the state won't budge and write the letter.
• Caught in the middle are our children. 
• Witness after witness have confirmed no local options are available. Our boy remembers the death of his parents. Nobody has come forward in 7 years to adopt these children. They are older, and a sibling set of 3, so they are considered "special needs" in the world of adoption.

 The original plan:

• Our children's advocate, Mr. S, would negotiate with the Ministry to get a letter of recommendation from them, despite not having this one last piece of paper. He would appeal to them on the basis of the welfare of the children.

The problem:

• They are more concerned with crossing their T's and dotting their I's. They have gotten bad press in the past for allowing some adoptions that turned out bad, and they don't want any more negative publicity.

The new plan:

• Since his negotiations with the Ministry have not been fruitful, he is going to ask them to write a letter of recommendation, even if it's a negative letter.
• There is always the chance that when push comes to shove, someone will be having a good day and write a positive letter...that would be ideal.
• If they write a negative letter, which they probably will, Mr. S. will take the letter to the Federal Court and appeal their decision.
• This has only been done one time that we know of, and it was successful in getting the Court to approve the adoption. The only downside is that before the child leaves the country, they must have a new birth certificate issued listing the adoptive parents as their parents. And who has to issue this new certificate? The Ministry. And of course, they are dragging their feet. That case is ongoing, so we pray for a good outcome for that child...and then for us.

It's a risky move; nobody likes their decision to be appealed or usurped. But Mr. S. feels that since we have no traction on Plan A, it's time to move to Plan B.

This is a stressful time for all involved. I can't help but think of all the time, money, and energy, and prayers that have gone into giving these three children a chance to experience a family, a home, unconditional love. And it's not just our time, money, and prayers. It's all of you. Our faithful friends and family who have contributed generously through fundraisers, donations, prayers, and encouragement.

And it's not just our three children. There's another little girl at their orphanage who is in the same boat. She has a family in Utah that is awaiting good news on her case. And that family has been waiting even longer than us.

Every day that passes, I think, They could be here. They could be learning how to be kids. They could have a mom and dad to protect them and provide for them. They could have access to medical care and good nutrition. They could be grieving their losses and moving toward healing. 

We feel this is a critical juncture. Would you, once again, pray for all involved? God holds the hearts of those in power, and He can change their minds. He can soften hearts.

We're putting all our eggs in His basket, because He is our only hope.

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.

Doubting in the Dark

When we tell people we're adopting a sibling group of three, we get a few different responses.

"That's awesome! So excited for you! How can we help?" (Our favorite response, of course.)

"Wow." Followed by an awkward silence. (Yah, that's awkward.)

"Oh my. Do you think you're ready for this?" (As a matter of fact, no we are not. I mean, who is ever prepared for parenthood?"

"How many bedrooms does your house have?" (Still has three, last I checked.) "Well, where will you put all those kids?" (Gee, I don't know. In a dresser drawer? Or maybe, (gasp), they could share bedrooms?)

And my favorite, and by favorite I mean not my favorite, "You're so brave!" Implications include: What if these adopted kids turn into drug-crazed serial killers? What if your husband loses his job and you have FOUR children to support? Etc. Etc.

I admit I read into things a lot, and my own fears, doubts and insecurities play a major role in how I interpret things.

So here's the truth: I'm not brave. Ken's not brave (although braver than me). We're just doing what we think God wants us to do. He has opened so many doors and made it so obvious that we are to walk down this path ... that to not walk down this path would be outright sin. For us.

Some days I feel downright scared. You see, when we started this process, our finanical situation was a bit different. And now instead of the cost of adopting one child, we have the cost of adopting three.

But this is life. We all have unexpected things happen that alter the landscape.
And we have willingly chosen to do this.

My point is that sometimes we look like we're taking a big leap of faith--like adopting a child from Ethiopia--when in fact it's not faith at all. When we started this process, we had the desire to adopt; it wasn't like God was asking us to do something we felt averse to. We had the support of friends and family. And we had almost all the funds we needed, so there was little faith involved. It seemed right, doable.

And God laughed.

Apparently He wanted to stretch us. He wanted us to see that this was His doing, not ours.

He has blessed us in so many unexpected ways. Our garage sale last month generated more than a thousand dollars. Then our church's Vacation Bible School kids raised money for us as their special project. They raised more than $1,100!  And my sisters organized an adoption shower, and tons of friends gave us gift cards to help us feather our expanding nest. And did I mention that I totally furnished our girls' bedroom for $66? Adorable matching dressers, a nightstand, twin beds, and two mattresses. $66! That's God right there.

It's humbling to be given so much. You guys, it is humbling to be given so much. 

We prayed that our community (church, friends, family) would be involved in this adoption. We know that it takes a village to raise a kid, and a church to raise a Christian. And that prayer has been answered.

But it's still scary. Because now we are operating on faith. We don't know how we will manage going from a family of three to a family of six. We don't know what it will take to transition three children into a new family in a new country with a new language and new food.

But we know that God is able. And He is good. And He loves D, M, and L way more than we do.

These children have spent a long time in an orphanage. Too long. But we believe God will redeem those years. In the Bible God promises that He will repay for the years "the locusts have stolen." And we hang on to this promise for our kids. All of them. We want, more than anything, to bear witness to their redemption story. We want to see the goodness of God gloriously displayed in their lives. We want to be a part of their next chapter--and all the subsequent chapters of their lives.

So if you think we're brave, think again. Crazy might be closer to reality.

One of my favorite quotes says, "Don't doubt in the dark what God has shown you in the light." So that's what we're doing. Or rather what we're not doing.

Some days feel dark and confusing and scary. Other days feel light and hopeful and exciting. But every day is good, because God is good.

The Lord says, “I will give you back what you lost
    to the swarming locusts, the hopping locusts,
the stripping locusts, and the cutting locusts....
    Once again you will have all the food you want,
    and you will praise the Lord your God,
who does these miracles for you.
    Never again will my people be disgraced.

Then you will know that I am among my people...
    that I am the Lord your God, and there is no other.   Joel 2:25-27

Why I'm Leaving Facebook

I cannot lie: I love FB.

Because I work from home while watching my three year old, FB has become my watercooler of sorts. Whether it's the weather, politics, or the joke of the day, FB gives me some adult talk time.

FB has connected me to old friends and long-lost cousins. I announced my engagement, my mother's passing, and the birth of my son--all on Facebook. Joys have been multiplied and tears have been divided.

But this morning, something caught my eye. My cousin Lori updated her status and said that she and her family (all 7 of them!) had together decided to take a break from technology until Easter. A "fast" of sorts. They will instead use that time to pray for her daughter who has been suffering from severe headaches.

I thought that was really nice. For her and her family.

I went about my day, and several hours later I started thinking about it again. I've always admired Lori's faith in God, her belief in Jesus Christ, and her convictions that prayer is powerful. But giving up FB? That's big, at least for someone like me that uses it on and off all day long. Every day.

I thought about all the reasons why leaving FB wouldn't be practical for someone like me. I use it to plan social events and lunch dates with my girlfriends. I chat with friends and catch up on their lives. I'm entertained by friends' humor, attempts at humor, pictures of kids, and TMI status update disclosures that are later deleted.

I buy and sell on my local Moms' page. I keep up with adoption happenings on an Ethiopia page. I tell funny stories, or I like to think I tell funny stories. And recently I've started playing Candy Crush Saga.

(I have one piece of advice about this addictive game: If you haven't started playing, don't.)

(Although...these puzzle games are supposed to ward off dementia, which is really the only reason I play.)

(Not really, but saying that makes me feel less bad about wasting time playing a game called CANDY CRUSH.)

But anyway... So then I thought again about my cousin. She and her ENTIRE FAMILY are giving up technology for two months to intercede on behalf of her daughter's headaches. I don't know what all "technology" includes, but I'm guessing TV, Internet, etc.

And then I thought about our future daughter. I wonder if she has a headache today. And if she does, does she have access to medication?

"I will not leave you as orphans. I will come to you." (John 14:18)

I wonder if she is cold at night. I check on Jack at least once every night, just to make sure his covers haven't fallen off. Does our daughter have warm blankets?

I wonder if our daughter is hungry.

I wonder if anyone hugged her or kissed her sweet face today.

I wonder if anyone hit her or took advantage of her vulnerable state.

And I thought about what I would give up for my daughter. Was it really asking too much to give up FB for a few months?

We're all called to do different things. Soon after we started our adoption paperwork, a friend told me she felt guilty that she and her family hadn't considered adopting a child. She said it had never interested them.

This family does many charitable things to help the poor, but God hadn't asked them to adopt. I told her she shouldn't feel guilty. There are certain things the Bible instructs all Christians to do: be generous, be kind, look out for the orphans and widows, etc. But how that plays out will look different for different people.

God has called our family to grow through adoption. He has put Africa on our heart. We are convinced without a doubt that we are to continue taking steps forward, leaving the results to Him.

And I'm convinced I'm to take a break from FB for a while. To free up my time so I can pray for our little girl. I believe in the power of prayer, and I want my behavior to match my beliefs.

I'm sharing this publicly because I know myself: If I don't share it, I will give up my "fast" before the end of the evening.

I don't necessarily think God rewards us when we give up something such as FB or sweets or TV. But I do believe whenever we spend time in prayer our soul is rewarded. As we acknowledge our weaknesses, His strength becomes more than sufficient for us.

I think of the time when Satan tried to tempt Jesus. Jesus had just been in the desert for forty days, fasting and spending time in prayer. He was weak physically, and Satan probably thought it would be a good time to come at Him. What Satan didn't acknowledge was the soul-spirit-heart strength Jesus had gained from His forty days of prayer and fasting.

Tough days are ahead. Every adoption begins with a tragedy--a birth mother and her child being separated. With that awareness comes an even great awareness: God is our all-powerful Redeemer and our Friend. And our family believes that He can and will take all the broken pieces of that tragedy and make something beautiful. Something that reflects His glory and His goodness.

So if you think of me or notice my absence, please take a minute to send up a prayer for our little one. And please do stay in touch. Because of my freelance work, I will still be on the Internet and on email, so feel free to contact me via this blog or at yarrow99 @ hotmail {dot}com. And I will try to update this blog from time to time, so check back or enter your email in the box on the top right.

See you on FB in a few months.

Love and peace to you ~
Luann

Random Thoughts and Observations

Big Boy
When Jackson and Ken are playing hide-and-seek, and Ken is the one hiding, Jack stalks around the house saying, "Where is that Big Boy?" He pretends he doesn't see his daddy, even when it's obvious there's a large man under the kitchen table. In order to extend the game, of course. Cracks me up every time. Especially when he comes to me with a goofy grin on his face and says, "Mom! I can't find Dad. Where *IS* that BIG BOY?"


Re-do
I'm in the process of redecorating Jack's room, transforming it from a Nursery to a Little Boy room...that will someday become a Big Boy room. Our generous friend Patti gave us a loft bed, so thanks to Pinterest and Disney Junior, I'm making the under-bed area a clubhouse. ("Mickey Mouse, Clubhouse! Come inside; it's fun inside!") I chose red and white polka dot material for the "stage" curtains, and after measuring, cutting, sewing, measuring again, and hanging, Ken's reaction was, "It reminds me of Minnie Mouse." Oh dear!

I realized that he's right. It does look Minnie-ish! And while Jack has a bit of a thing for Minnie, I'm not sure I want his room to resemble her polka dot dress. I am going to attempt a masculinization of the decor, and then I'll post some pictures.


Oh Dear!
Speaking of "Oh Dear," my almost three year old says, "Oh Dear!" on a regular basis. He also says, "Oh My!" I'm glad he's not using less savory expressions, but sometimes he sounds like a 75-year-old grandma when he speaks. Not that there's anything wrong with 75-year-old grandmas.


Three Good Words
Ken and I try to pray with Jack several times throughout the day. Before meals, before bed, etc. We usually pray a simple prayer, thanking God for all He's provided and asking for His intervention in any situations that come to mind.

Occasionally I ask Jack if he'd like to say the prayer. He has never turned me down. When he was younger, he would bow his head, scrunch up his eyes, and mumble some incomprehensible words. Now that he's almost three, his prayers have become much more mature. Unless we prompt him, they are always three words long:

"Dear Jesus ...[sigh] ... Amen."

To tell you the truth, I am fascinated with this prayer. In three short words, he covers all the bases.

dear

     adj. beloved, loved, adored, cherished, precious, precious treasure

     adv. at a high cost 

Jesus

     noun. from the Greek, meaning, "God is salvation."

amen

     exclamation: uttered at the end of a prayer or hymn, meaning "so be it." Used to express agreement or assent.

     noun: from Hebrew, meaning, "truth or certainty."

From the mouths of babes...

Frozen

I heard last night on the news that last year at this time Chicagoland had gotten about 3 inches of snow, total. This year? 48 inches. Plus all the sub-zero temps. I feel like we live in Antarctica. Fittingly, we're going to see FROZEN this afternoon. It will be Jack's first movie theatre experience. I wonder how it will go. To be continued...

Adventure

I like to be adventurous. I have an insatiable curiosity to see and do everything. When I was younger, my adventures were usually tied to traveling. I liked going to out-of-the-way destinations...some of them known for recruiting and harboring terrorists. 

Now that I'm in my forties and have a husband, child, dog, and mother-in-law to take into consideration, my adventures are somewhat different. Today's outing was going to pick up bagels in the middle of a snowstorm. As I pulled our baby blue minivan out of the garage and traversed the snowy streets, I thought about how much my life has changed. I wouldn't trade my past adventures for anything, but I wouldn't trade the present for anything either.

Blue Mini

Speaking of blue minivans...and my son's affection for Minnie Mouse... 

After Ken's New Year's Eve accident, which totaled his pick-up truck, we decided to invest in a family vehicle. It was nice to have a truck for moving and hauling stuff, but it wasn't very practical. It was a manual transmission, so I couldn't drive it. It only had one row of seating, so it wasn't conducive to a carseat for Jack. And with the hopes of adopting a little one in the next year, we decided the car I drove, a PT Cruiser (which is deceptively small), would not meet our needs. So we "upgraded" to a minivan.

A minivan.

People. I drive a minivan. I live in the Midwest. I make casseroles. I attend potluck dinners at my church. And I recently bought a pair of mom jeans.

But anyway...back to the blue Minivan. When we explained to Jack that we had a new blue MINIvan, he thought we were referring to Minnie Mouse. So our new Honda Odyssey is affectionately known as Blue Minnie. Thanks, Disney Junior. 

Full Circle

Now I must return to my sewing machine. Wish me luck as I attempt to masculinize my son's Minnie Mouse-inspired bedroom decor.

Happy Saturday!

Luann