From a Full Heart

Halted by grace...

2012-02-14T11:52:00.000-08:00

Our school days sometimes get interrupted.
Not by visitors or ringing phones,
not by barking dogs or illness,
though those things do often interrupt.

Sometimes, though, our days get interrupted by grace.

So I changed from plan A to plan "let's listen to what God wants to say to us today" and we sat in a heap of arms and legs and blankets and prayed, a morning prayer from this faithful friend, and we read...
and read...
and read.

Psalm 93 became a sweet assignment. Let's copy it. Who can finish neat and first?

And they did.

Gracie looked at her completed work and smiled.
"Read it to me?" I requested.
And she did.

My daughter, the first one taught to read by her mother, read the Word of God with just a few needed hints.
She smiled.
I held back a tear as I said to my proud girl...
"You can read the Bible. Gracie, do you know that there are millions and millions of grownups all over the world who can't do what you just did because they don't know how to read? You are seven years old and you can read the Bible!"

She grinned as the wheels turned in her pretty little head.
"Mommy, I think I am going to find a comfy spot and read it some more."

A few minutes later, naptime was upon us...or at least it was upon Mari and Drew. I sent them upstairs to prepare. I gave them ample time then followed them up to be sure they were ready to be tucked in. I was walking briskly, thinking of all I needed to do as soon as they were asleep. I rounded the corner and had my mouth open to speak when I was stopped in my tracks.

Halted by grace.

For there they sat...on Mari's bed. Their backs were to me so they had no idea I was watching them. Gracie had her Bible open on her knees, with her right arm around her little sister. Drew was leaning against Mari, leaning in close so he could see for himself. Gracie was reading Psalm 93 to her siblings, intently, intentionally, lovingly with her pigtails bouncing and joy on her face.

I held my breath and Katie came...
she saw what I saw and she stopped. She leaned into me as I leaned into the doorframe and took in the holy sight.

I took a mental snapshot and vowed to never, ever take this moment for granted.

Now she sits in the kitchen, reading 1 Thessalonians because she can. I am overcome.

Regarding Attachment

2012-01-25T19:49:00.000-08:00

Following is a post that I wrote for a local ministry in which we are involved. I wanted to share it with you:

Attachment is a word that was really foreign to me in our first four adoptions. Since they came home at 2-3 days old, our first days and years as parents were nearly identical to the first days and years of a family with biological children. Aside from our racial differences, life at home was...well, normal.

Bring on child #5.

She came home at 3 years old. And she not only had an opinion, she had attitude! We figured out early on that she was ultra charming because she was literally scared to death of being left alone. She was willing to attach to just about anyone just in case this "forever" thing didn't work out. We had to be very careful when friends came to visit, to be sure we were the ones to hold her, rock her, and reassure her that when the friends left she would not. We had to demonstrate over and over that she was here to stay, for better or worse.

One year later our dance has become more in sync. One year later I know to preemptively scoop her up in my arms when a new visitor arrives in order to head off attention-seeking behaviors at the pass. It works like a charm. I know that she thrives with rock-solid boundaries and is reassured when the rules stay the same no matter who is watching. She knows we mean what we say and say what we mean and she knows she is loved.

In the book "The Connected Child" by Karyn Purvis, attachment is referred to as a dance. And I see that now. I have not always danced well, but I have learned much. When my little girl bursts into a grin as I enter her line of sight, my heart swells with joy because I can feel the love growing between us.

Just yesterday, she had to have her 5 year immunizations. She hesitantly let the nurse draw blood and repeat that TB test with not a single tear. But the two shots in the leg? Well, they hurt. She started to sob and turned her little face into my neck for comfort.

What a sweet feeling, to hold her and rub her back and remind her of just how brave she was. As the tears subsided, she basked in the knowledge that mommy thought she was brave. Over the course of the day, she would ask me to repeat why she was brave over and over just so she could savor the feeling once again.

Attachment is a long process. It can take years to accomplish. But I see how far we have come, and how well attached she really is, and I rejoice. It is God who knits hearts together. It is God who builds our families. And it is God who turns the hearts of children to their fathers, and the hearts of fathers to their children. I am so grateful for the opportunity to, once again, see Him at work...to live out the truths of His kingdom as I prayerfully mother these five sweet gifts He has given me.

Adoption is an amazing experience...a gift that truly keeps on giving, even in the hard times. We learn so much about God's heart as we learn to take up our cross and follow Him, things that I believe I may have never been able to learn any other way.

Simple, really.

2012-01-22T13:52:00.000-08:00

My dishwasher broke a few weeks ago. Actually, it started leaking on Christmas Eve...after we had just sunk a nice chunk of money into replacing the digital keypad the week before. We thought we fixed it, but just after New Years it started flooding the kitchen floor again.

This time, though, we were leaving town in the next few days, so we waited to shop for a replacement.

I bought this

for $8.50 at Tar-jay and proceeded to hand-wash everything like my mama did.
We have been back in town for almost a week now, and I am still using it.
Not that I don't want a new dishwasher. But I think I am going to scale back, since the nice stainless steel tres chic model didn't last two years...and the $300 it would cost to fix it is more than the basic model that I used to have "back in the day"...that lasted for ten years. Yes, I think I will go back to the basic wash-o-matic with knobs and mechanical parts and do more handwashing.

So you wonder why I am telling you this, right?

Because in two weeks of hand-washing dishes, I have had unforgettable conversations with DJ and Katie. Conversations about life and dreams and why and how and chuckles that I would have missed if I had stuck them in the tres chic appliance and walked away while it did the dirty work.

In these years of the "tween," when hormones are cruel and emotions are volatile, I have stood side-by-side with my hands immersed in suds and my big kids rinsed and dried. Who would have thought I would find eternal value in a sink full of soapy water?
But I have.
What else am I missing?
What else is slipping by quietly?

Simplify. Yes, that is the nudge I have felt for so long. And little-by-little we have simplified. Turn the TV off. Pull out a puzzle. Sit down together with a good book.
Wash the dirty dishes.

I will replace the broken dishwasher soon. But I plan to remember and choose to use it less. Save it for jobs bigger than my sink. Maybe just when we have company.
But I am going to stand side by side with my son as much as possible because, today, he said to me as we worked "Mom, doing dishes by hand is kinda fun."
I smiled and rejoiced in my heart, because I know he was enjoying more than the dishes.

The Post-Christmas Post

2011-12-26T20:48:00.000-08:00

Well, another memory is filed. Another morning of watching my babes create what can only be described as pure carnage at the foot of the tree.
Another meal of too much, plus dessert. Our home filled with friends and noise and mess and fun.
And another year of sitting next to my dear hubby as we settled down for a romantic evening...just the two of us...
watching National Lampoon's European Vacation.

Don't judge me.

(At least it was the somewhat edited version.)

We lit our last candle and sang for Him (this was before the movie...by the way)
How I loved watching the faces of my children...

They went to bed early (so we could watch that movie...I said don't judge me!) and were so happy and exhausted that not a single one of them had to be re-tucked.

I mean, people, do you KNOW how long it has been since we have not had to re-tuck at least one child? Either after a sip of water, one more trip to the potty, or any other of a plethora of excuses...we always have to re-tuck someone.

But not last night.

They were worn plum OUT. Their little eyes were closing before their curly heads hit the pillow.

It was a.w.e.s.o.m.e.

This Christmas, I truly feel I was more focused on Him and His coming than in many years past. Partly because of this. My heart has been filled and my voice has murmured lyrics all week...words that are eternal and true. This concert set the tone for us. Our imaginations were captured and our hearts ached for Him. The words of these songs came to life and drew us so sweetly to the throne of Grace...to the fact that He came while we were not looking. He fulfilled all the promises that many had forgotten.

And He died for us while we were yet sinners.

All of this celebration and feasting, all of this fun and gathering and relaxing, every good and perfect gift is from Him. We give and bless because He has so abundantly given and blessed.

We live because He came. We rejoice because He is risen. Whether we live in poverty or abundance or somewhere in between, He is the reason we sing and celebrate. Without Him Christmas would be utterly empty and nonexistant. There would be no warm spot in Winter.

But there is...because He is.

This day after, we have relaxed and played and been happily not busy. Now I sit in evening silence, with rain coming in sheets outside my window, pondering the fulfillment. Quiet has not exactly been abundant, so still my Bible awaits and I am about to turn those ancient pages and read Isaiah's words. I did not want to rush or be distracted so it turns out I will sleep with them fresh in my mind. I think this may be what He wanted for me today, how He intended this day to end in the first place.

But I must say, ending last night like this...with a good laugh next to my husband of 16 years...
well, you watch this and tell me if you don't crack a grin:

You know you laughed :)

The Coming

2011-12-21T17:38:00.000-08:00

The celebration of Advent has been a struggle for me in years past.

To wreath or not to wreath? Which devotional should we use...or do we use one at all? In the attempt to avoid legalism, we often miss out on tradition.

But this year has been different.

I did not say perfect.

But it has come together and my heart is becoming ready.

A candle is lit, and we sing.

Silent Night, Away in a Manger...little voices rise in imperfect harmony. Mari stays one step behind as she is still learning these old, old songs. We all smile, and Daddy picks up the devotional that just happened to arrive the day we lit the first candle. Sent by a friend, who no doubt was prompted by the Lord to be sure we had it just in time.

Daddy reads, and I fall in love with him all over again. Sometimes the younger ones get wiggly, distracted and unwilling to sit.

So he starts over.

The wiggling eventually becomes disobedience, but it is so important that they learn to sit and listen and try to grasp just a tiny shred of what Christmas means.

So he starts over again.

The wiggling stops. Eyes are no longer glazed over but focused. Sometimes a question surfaces, or a smile.

They begin to grasp that tiny shred.

I pray I can grasp a tiny shred of Christmas.

A Child...God become man...a Savior who deserves the honor of a King, the glory and praises of Heaven, sets it all aside to be born into earthly poverty.

He willingly becomes the most helpless of beings and lies, whimpering, in filth and strips of linen as a feeble attempt to keep him warm.

He becomes the scandal of the gossips, the focus of hatred, the one they are hunting when countless innocents are brutally murdered.

He grows and matures and loves his Mom and Dad...but is keenly aware of and in constant communication with his Father.

Can I grasp this? I don't know. It causes me to sit and marvel at the purpose for which He came. When did He know? When did the Cross come into focus?

He comes in humility.

He comes in love.

He comes in power.

The Lion of the Tribe of Judah

The King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

Emmanuel...God with us.

Gather Round Ye Children Come
Words and music by Andrew Peterson

Gather ‘round, ye children, come
Listen to the old, old story
Of the pow’r of death undone
By an infant born of glory
Son of God, Son of Man
Gather ‘round, remember now
How creation held its breath
How it let out a sigh
And it filled up the sky with the angels
Son of God, Son of Man

CHORUS

So sing out with joy for the brave little boy
Who was God, but he made himself nothing
Well he gave up his pride and he came here to die
Like a man
Therefore God exalted him
To the place of highest praises
And he gave him a name above every name
That at the very name of Jesus, Son of God

CHORUS

We would sing out with joy for the brave little boy
Who was God, but he made himself nothing
Well he gave up his pride and he came here to die
Like a man
So in heav’n and earth and below
Every knee would bow and worship
And ev’ry tongue would proclaim
That Jesus, He reigns with the angels

CHORUS

So sing out with joy for the brave little boy
Who was God but he made himself nothing
Well he gave up his pride and he came here to die
Like a man
So gather ‘round, ye children come
Listen to the old, old story
Of the power of death undone
By an infant born of glory
Son of God, Son of Man

Sweet Moments

2011-12-13T13:32:00.000-08:00

I love Christmas. I guess I've already told you that. But, really, this season is filled with so many beautiful possibilities and, usually, they come by surprise. I like to think I am good at planning memorable activities for my kids, but more often than not they just show up.

Then He gets the credit. Isn't that how it should be?

Every good and perfect gift is from above...
of course.

So one evening my dear, brave hubby decided to take 4 out of 5 munchkins to see a movie. Katie and I declined, as I had a lot of gift wrapping I hoped to do in their absence. She asked if she could help, and of course I said yes...as soon as I stashed her goodies out of sight.

We pulled out the sparkly paper, bows, tape...and all the gifts that had been accumulating as Mr. Ups made his frequent stops at our house.

Yes, folks...for those who often ask how I "get it all done" the answer is I don't. I go online, point and click, and never darken the door of the Mall.

At least not during Christmas time.

So we sat down to our task and, as usually happens when her hands are busy, Katie started talking.

"Mom, I love Christmas. And not just for the gifts, because I know it is about Jesus and His birthday. But I just love imagining the looks on their faces when they open them."

"I think the little ones are the best, because they look so pretty."

"I knew you and Dad were Santa because you always made us go to bed early and then we could hear you walking around and doing stuff. But it was fun. I liked having fantasies when I was little."

"They are going to love these."

Every word she spoke made my heart fill with joy. This daughter of mine, whose love language is so obviously the giving and receiving of gifts, was being blessed and lifted up by the simple act of selecting the perfect ribbon. Writing to DJ from Mom and Dad and sticking the label to the package was an act of love.

Her love tank filled as she dreamed of filling theirs.

It was a memory that I will treasure all of my days. This quiet time with just her, to see her love well and be "in" on the secrets, was pure bliss.

Now, I am fully aware that a couple of secrets may be spilled. She is only human and keeping all the secrets just might cause her to burst so I did not reveal to her all of the siblings' gifts. *grin*

I wasn't born yesterday.

But I am willing to sacrifice a few secrets for moments like this.

Meaningful Remembrance

2011-12-05T21:06:00.000-08:00

Every year, my children receive a new Christmas ornament. It may be something beautiful like a sparkly tiara for the year Gracie was totally a princess, or it may be Batman. There is the puppy in the mailbox for the year Katie loved the fur off of her stuffed dog, and the ESPN tree for DJ who knows all the stats. But they always represent something about that child and what they were "in to" that year.

Well it hit me that Mari doesn't have a ornament for her first three Christmases that she spent with her birth family in Ethiopia. And we decided we needed to fix that. She has a "first Christmas home" ornament from last year, and her beautiful African angel for this year, but I decided to get the "lost" ones from families who are fundraising in order to add even more meaning to them.

So this is her first one...

Pink, for a tiny baby girl born in an African mud hut.

A tiny girl who barely survived.

But she was so loved.

The second one...

Her second Christmas.

Spent sleeping on a straw mat with her entire family of seven.

Spent running barefoot through the fields of Wolaita, watching wild elephants and giraffes lope by.

Spent being loved by both of her parents and her four siblings.

The third...

This represents the year that hurt.

Her father passed away suddenly and she was hungry.

She was small and sick. Her mother was afraid for her.

She was taken, in loving sacrifice, to a place where "she would get to grow up."

God was there, and He knew. He sparked a desire in our hearts and that very summer, when her hurt began, we filled out the application with America World Adoption to bring her home. Not knowing...well...of course we didn't know. But He knew. He had driven her someday-sister in America to pray and beg and believe for a sister from Africa. Yes, He knew and He was weaving it all together.

Today was a hard day. She struggled and decided today she didn't feel like being nice. She told me she wanted to act up. As I write this, my heart hurts because so often she acts completely normal and whole. But today I could see the wound that is still there. It only flares up occasionally now, but it is still there. All the kids could see that today was harder, and they were exasperated because, well, why won't she just stop acting up and getting in trouble? Why is she hitting and yelling? Lord, help me to see. Help me to love her as she needs to be loved. Give me patience when I don't feel patient. Give me eyes that see her heart when I am frustrated and feel manipulated or ignored. Help me draw close when I am pushed away. Help me remember how you have woven this all together and to remember that it is not, and has never been, about me. Give me the mind of Christ, Lord. Give me the strength to lay aside what I think should be and choose to pour myself out for You for the sake of my children. Help me to model service by serving. Help me to teach patience by being patient. And above all help me to foster love and connection by loving and intentionally connecting with my children even when all I want to do is grab a cup of coffee and go into my room alone.

Meaningful...yes this post was meaningful to me because, in remembering, my heart opens up.

Collecting these stones of rememberance is healthy because we do so easily forget. He encourages us to remember...

Even in the beauty of Communion...it is there for us because we need it. We forget without it. We forget Him and what He has done and why. How much more do we need stones of rememberance in our every day?

Much, much more. I am convinced.

30 days of thankful...day 28-30

2011-12-02T18:18:00.000-08:00

I had the best of intentions.
On the 30th I was going to sit down and knock out the last three posts with panache.
Instead, I was in bed.
Some weird virus knocked me out...and not exactly with panache.
So as my house fell apart around me and my babies played nurse to mommy I had plenty of time to think.
Oh, and I also watched lots of Discovery Channel and National Geographic Channel...because these were school days. We have a new affinity for the series "Going Tribal." It is some serious fun! And did you know that Tiger Sharks off the coast of Hawaii have been tagged and then swam over 3000 miles to the Sea of Cortez?

Anywho...
The last three days of thankful. Where oh where do I begin? How do I narrow them all down?
I will say that as I languished in feverish achiness for two days I thought and rethought these last three entries.
I type these somberly, with a sense of awe at my God and Father in Heaven who has truly blessed me...blessed us...beyond measure.

#28...the Christmas Season.
This season holds so much meaning for me. I remember the years before I knew Him...when it was about Santa and gifts and sparkle and good wishes, but not about Him. Then He found me, and I wept through most of my first Christmas as His child. Then just two years later I walked down the aisle as a Christmas Bride...down an aisle decorated with red and green plaid bows, to an altar filled with glowing red votives and poinsettias and a groom who would whisk me off to a cabin nestled in a winter wonderland.
Now I see it through the eyes of my children, as we light candles and sing songs and imagine what it was like back then. As we watch the same movies I watched as a child and pick out new favorites and as Johnny Mathis serenades us...because nobody sings Christmas like Johnny Mathis...I marvel at this Season, that it never gets old.

#29...the leather sectional
It sits in our kitchen living area. There are always blankets and a doll strewn across it, and a dog or two trespassing. We often read stories or they spread out with their chapter books on this couch, but when the schoolwork is done and the weather is bad, they are allowed to turn on the TV and we all end up together in a happy pile of arms and legs and cuddles. Memories are made and love grows as we enjoy a good book or a good show. There are crumbs in the cushions and dog hair that needs to be vacuumed away and...hey, who wants to watch Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer?

#30...Homeschooling
I have to end here. I have mentioned my Savior, my marriage, my children, adoption...and beside all of these sits the huge decision that was obviously the calling of God for us. It has changed the entire dynamics of my family. We love better, we live more freely, we learn together, and we get to set the priorities that are important to us...the priorities that help us stay in step with God's plan for our family.
Sleeping later, eating breakfast without hurrying, doing school and helping each other when one gets stuck, learning to be best friends again and having the flexibility to leave out what is unnecessary in order to have time for the truly important...I can't put into words how much better life is now. Yes, I am teaching five kids in four different grades. Yes, it can be complicated and we don't always "get it all done". Yes, sometimes there are bad attitudes and kids who slop through work in an attempt to get done. But overall, it has reduced the stress level of our home and given us time and memories that are priceless. I cannot thank Him enough for pushing us and prodding us to this life. It is worth every bit of planning and scheduling and paper-grading and frustrated reshuffling of the day in order to see our family live and love like this.

30 days of thankful...days 25-27

2011-11-27T17:51:00.000-08:00

Further and further apart these posts come...I know. I so easily lose track of time these days!

Ok...I only have 3 more days left to fill, and I am realizing how difficult it will be to narrow it down. What do I leave out? I look around, at my life and my home and my blessings and realize I could count every day for a lifetime and still there would not be enough days to thank Him.

Eternity sounds even sweeter as I realize this.

#25...quiet.
Now I know that may seem impossible in a household of seven. I remember before children, how I would weep over the barrenness and cry out "I am tired of having a quiet house."
And I was.
I guess the quiet I speak of now is different. It is the quiet of 5 little hearts content. It is the quiet of everyone occupied with work or play and just being. It is knowing that the quiet will not last ~~more than 30 seconds~~ very long and that the lively sounds of feet running down the stairs or a voice or three yelling "Mom!" will pierce the silence and the cacophony that is our normal will resume. This type of quiet is respite...it is catching my breath before the next adventure and maybe even getting the chance to sit and be with Him for a few stolen moments.

#26...lotion on brown skin
Winter can be brutal on the skin of my children, making their skin ashen and dry. But a palmful of lotion, rubbed and massaged and scented in all sorts of fabulous scents, is like watching a miracle. Their skin transforms and becomes like dark chocolate or caramel, depending on which child I am applying it, and I cannot resist the urge to plant a kiss on that suddenly smooth knee or that creamy little belly. I love those moments.

#27...our anniversary
It is coming soon...for the sixteenth time. I look at my calendar and marvel that I was once 23 and cute and unwrinkled and he was 22 and a total dream and thought I was worthy of his name. I marvel even more that he still looks at me that way...and I thank God for these years. Things did not turn out like we expected...not even close. We had no idea what God would do, but does anyone? We both have changed, but we have changed together. I love this time of year and the memories it evokes. And I would marry him all over again, yes I would.

30 Days of thankful...days 22-24

2011-11-24T17:45:00.000-08:00

As I write this my heart is bursting with happiness. I just spent the afternoon welcoming a beautiful little girl from Uganda into her family and our sweet circle of friends. One year ago, when I came home with Mari, my friend had no idea what the next year would hold in store for her. NO idea. But God was working behind the scenes and now my friend just came home with her fifth child...a daughter from the Pearl of Africa.
I am overcome.

So here I am contemplating 3 more days (because I am behind again, I know) and I have to begin with...

#22...watching my friends adopt.

When our first three children were born, we were the "pioneers" in our group of friends. No one we knew, at least no one who lived around us, had yet walked that road. After we settled here, God started bringing adoptive families into our lives one by one. Then our friends, several who already had biological children, began to feel the nudge to adopt and now...well it has literally exploded in our community.
Every time a watch a friend walk this journey, my heart rejoices. Not only because a child is coming home but also because they will now, finally, know what I have tried to communicate but have difficulty putting into words. Like so many God-moments, until you live it you really cannot imagine what it is like.
So today another friend knows...really knows the miracle He works when He binds your heart forever to a child who does not share your DNA. Tonight she looks at her new daughter, freshly home and overwhelmed and in complete culture shock, and watches her breathe. Today another family gets to live that little slice of Heaven...

#23...Hot apple cider.
I am drinking it now. Mulling spices float at the top and the scent fills my home. Winter is coming, and I am happy. My children sip at their mugs carefully but can't wait for it to cool because it just smells so good. DJ comes back for seconds and then runs back upstairs to finish watching the football game with his Dad. I love this time of year.

#24...Thanksgiving
Today I look around my table and marvel at how full and alive and busy my home is. Cooking recipes that I grew up watching my mama prepare for us, and then seeing them smile as they chow down makes me happy. Sitting back with full bellies...well, I do not take that for granted because so many are hungry. So many go without tonight while we eat leftovers. We are blessed...abundantly blessed. As we celebrated today, and shared what we are thankful for, Mari spoke up and said "I am thankful for my own home." We all took a breath and waited...

then she polished off her green bean casserole and said, "Mom, this is good...it did not make me sick!"

I think that is a compliment.

Happy Thanksgiving, my friends. May you see the blessings, one by one, that He so freely gives. May you be awed by His mercy, moved by His love, and inspired to share the endless love of Jesus with those who so desperately need Him.

30 days of thankful...days 20 & 21

2011-11-21T21:08:00.000-08:00

#20...2 refrigerators, stocked.
I often marvel after a grocery shopping trip. I step back and look at my refrigerator in the kitchen, overflowing into the spare in the garage. They are often crammed tight with good food...especially now as I prepare for Thanksgiving. I know this is a luxury. I know there are literally hundreds of millions of people who would give anything for what languishes on one shelf of those refrigerators. We never go without. We eat three squares a day plus plenty of snacks and I know that we usually take it for granted.
But then I look back at pictures of Africa...I remember Mari's thin frame and swollen belly that broke my heart the first time I bathed her. She has forgotten, mercifully, but I have not. She, just like her siblings, knows there is a pantry full of food that guarantees she will eat and eat well. She doesn't remember the hunger that drove her birthmother to make the most painful decision of her life, so her daughter would "get to grow up."
I don't want to forget. I want to eat thankfully and share generously. I want to be a good steward of this blessing of abundance. I want to remember that, though it is easy to zip down to the store when I need a gallon of milk, that milk still comes from Him and circumstances could easily change. I want to keep that awareness of my desperate need for Him in every detail of life, because we are the sheep of HIS pasture.

#21...worship.
Music is truly powerful. Songs move me deeply and stir memories that were thought to be forgotten. They also snap me out of myself, at times, and refocus my spiritual eyes on the One who is the author of the most beautiful Song ever written. I heard a new song a few days ago...Chris Tomlin's new recording of "How Great is our God" from his latest "Essentials" album. This version is different because it has tracks recorded around the world...several different languages singing this beautiful song together.
It gave me chills the first time I heard it because I know every word to that song, so when it is being sung in Spanish, French, or Africanz I know what they are saying. And it is so beautiful.
It struck me hard when I listened to it again today...it struck me how the Lord hears worship in every language all at once and He understands perfectly every single word that is sung to Him. It reminded me of going to church in Ethiopia and standing amongst a congregation of 62 nations as we all sang out to Him...sang songs I knew from home. How beautiful to think of the family of God, and to have that reminder of how big our God is that he gathers us ALL safely into His arms and adopts us all into His family so we can sing...many voices singing one song to Him.
Yes, I am thankful for Worship.

30 days of thankful...days 18 & 19

2011-11-19T14:09:00.000-08:00

#18...I am thankful for my girls' curls.
Oh, the fun of fixing and caring for hair that is everything mine is not! Braids, beads, twists, and 'fros...ponytails and dog-ears, cornrows and conditioner...lots and lots of conditioner. :) I love the beauty of their hair...all three heads so unique in texture, color, and curl pattern. Sometimes they struggle, they resist the combing and wish for thin and straight hair that hangs down. But I don't. I pray, as they grow, that they will see themselves as God sees them: Beautiful young ladies of color with glorious hair meticulously created by their Father.

#19...I am thankful the look on Gracie's face today as we took down the Fall decorations and began to transform our house for Christmas. She is my artistic one and I can let her have free reign with a handful of knickknacks and the child will create an incredibly beautiful arrangement! Plus, in her excitement, she put on her Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker CD and plied around the house in happiness. :)
Yes, I am a week early and totally breaking personal tradition. But we had nothing going on today, which NEVER happens in this family, so I figured I should take advantage of the downtime and pull the boxes out of the attic! The tree is not up...yet. But the garlands are on the banisters and the boxes are sorted, poised and ready to make magic. I love Christmas...

But I love Thanksgiving as well, so I am trying to pace myself!

30 days of thankful...day 16 & 17

2011-11-17T21:04:00.000-08:00

It seems I am on a "every other day" kinda roll, doesn't it! Well here I go with more gratitudinous (is that a word? probably not) posting. :)

#16 I am thankful for coffee.
Ok, ok, you KNEW it had to be on this list, right? I mean the whole URL for this blog is coffee-dependent, as is it's writer!
Starbucks, JustLove (My FAVE...love the Ethiopian Yirgacheffe), mochas, lattes, cream and sugar...it's all good. Fresh ground, french pressed...ah, now that is the way to start a morning!
But why? For me, it is the routine...the sitting down in the quiet of morning with steaming cup o' joe in one had and my Bible and pen in the other. A sip and a sigh in the middle of Isaiah and my morning is just right.

#17 I am thankful for the fireplace in my kitchen.
It is just now getting fired up (pardon the pun!) regularly and takes the nip off the cold floor when I stumble in before the aforementioned coffee. The best part? It is remote controlled. I am not kidding. Press a button and "poof" it is on. No ashes, no mess, and we can save the wood for the outdoor marshmallow roasts that make Fall worth living. I love to cuddle up under a blanket with a kid or five and watch the flames dance. Maybe even read a good book if I'm lucky! Coming in from outside, little hands run straight to it's warmth and pause, waiting for the chill to subside. Wet boots and socks hang over the screen, dripping as they warm up. The heat travels up the stairs, making the 2nd floor toasty warm...and little kids in their beds a bit sweaty. We eat and play and relax by it's warmth, and I am thankful for those peaceful moments that a fireplace in my kitchen creates.

30 days of thankful...day 14 & 15

2011-11-15T22:08:00.000-08:00

#14...I am thankful for technology that allows me to be in contact instantly with friends around the world. Skyping, email, Facebook...it is really amazing when I stop to think about it. Our world really has gotten small...and I love it. I love chatting with friends in Ethiopia and Uganda, watching live pictures stream in of friends and their new little ones in Korea, and reading updates of missionary friends in South America, Europe, Asia, and Africa...as well as just knowing "what's up" with so many dear ones that I might have lost touch with if it wasn't for this gift of communication God has given us!

#15...I am thankful for my camera. Seeing life through a lens...focusing in on what is important and cropping out what is not. Capturing that quick smile...or that far away look. Gathering evidence to present when they are older and swear they NEVER did that. My camera is the safety net of my memory...so when my memory fails the photos will serve to remind me of these sweet days...of chocolate on faces and impromptu hugs. Of shared treats and dogs used as pillows. Of the pile of kids on the couch, content to watch cartoons and rest limbs akimbo on each other in sweet contentment. Of productive, and not-so-productive, school days...heads bent over paper, pencils askew, crayons scribbling all waxy and not quite in the lines. Yes, my camera helps me to remember...and to be intentional about making sure the moments count.

1 year home

2011-11-13T20:25:00.000-08:00

One year ago today, my sweet Mari set foot on American soil for the very first time.
I am amazed at what this past year has held.
I have written almost every month about her progress...about the joys and challenges of adopting a child who comes with grief and fear and hope...and now here we are one year later and I marvel at what God has done.
In the past 2 months we pulled her out of preschool and breathed a sigh of relief as what appeared to be the final hurdle in her attachment was succesfully crossed. She needed me. She liked school, she wanted school, but she needed her family. She was disappointed in our decision at first, but in a matter of 3 days I knew it had been the right one. I told her that I knew she liked school, but it did not seem to be good for her and that I love her and I want to be her teacher.
Now she knows...now she sees that I want her home in the daytime. I want to be the one who comforts her when she is afraid. I want to be the one who teaches her ABC's and 123's and I was not sending her to school for me, but because I thought she would enjoy it. Now she knows I am willing to do anything for her...that being with her is joy and that her emotional and spiritual health is of utmost importance to us. She has settled in and settled down and has said "I love you" at least a million times since. I was most proud of Drew, who had rather enjoyed his one-on-one pre-K lessons. When I told him Mari was going to do pre-K with him he grinned, put his arm around her and said "You can share my desk!"
Thank you, Jesus.
She talks so freely to me now, and has filled in gaps that had been in my memory from the days and weeks in Ethiopia...when I was with her and when she was waiting for us. She remembers being excited and nervous all at the same time and longs for kids like her who wait to have a family...even offering to "share our Mommy and Daddy with them." She remembers the night she had a meltdown before dinner in Ethiopia and I had NO idea what was wrong and finally could tell me that, when I took her upstairs to get her sippy cup she thought I was going to leave her in the room. She remembers details of that week and her homecoming that blow me away. She is SO smart. On the 1 year anniversary of her "gotcha day" last week, she came downstairs wearing the shirt she was wearing on that day! Again, her understanding blows me away. She knows her life was changed, she knows we treasure her story, and she knows that part of Africa came home with her that day and that one of these days our family will happily journey back to visit, to love, and to serve.
Her behavior is so normal now. She still is catching up in some ways emotionally, but really I don't have any more issues with her than I have with with Drew, who is just 3 months older. She responds beautifully to consistent and clear boundaries, loving and firm discipline, and positive reinforcement. We can't be lax with her, for she needs rock-solid boundaries in order to feel secure and have self-control. We allow choices when the choices are no big deal, but for the most part she thrives knowing we are in charge and "have her back" at all times.
Oh, the books I could write on what God has taught me about my need for Him in this past year. Watching her life be redeemed and transformed has been a huge blessing and I feel so honored that He has placed our family on this path. How He longs to do the same for all of us! To shower us with Fatherly love, to transform and redeem our lives and give us the security of knowing we can live in freedom without fear because He "has our back"...the parallel is so beautiful.
My friends, how I long for you all to experience this amazing journey. If you feel the nudge to adopt, do not be afraid for the Lord goes before you and gives you wisdom and strength you did not know you had. He lights the next step and blesses you with understanding of His heart that you could not learn any other way. You will feel a love grow within you for this child that is such a gift...whether they come home at 2 days old or 12 years old...the Lord is the giver of good gifts and He rejoices to bind your heart with your child's and make you fully and completely a family in every sense of the word. The call to adopt is truly an honor...and I pray you will step forward in faith and don't miss out on what He has for you!
If you are not called to adopt, you are called to do something. (James 1:27) Sponsor a child, foster a child, go on mission to love and give hope, help other families who are called and are working to raise money for their adoptions, give generously to those who are being the hands and feet of Jesus to the 147,000,000 orphans who all have captured the heart of God. He holds them close, as should we all.

One year ago I journeyed across continents and oceans to place a scared, overwhelmed, and tiny little girl into the arms of her father and into the safety of our home.
Today we sat next to our daughter and her 4 siblings at McAlister's deli as she ate a PB&J with applesauce, chatting happily about what she learned in Sunday School. She held my hand as we prayed, she leaned her head lovingly against my shoulder as we ate, and she played with her brothers and sisters all afternoon as if she had always been here.

Because, somehow, in God's kingdom, I believe she has.

Psalm 139:16
Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.

30 days of thankful...days 11, 12, and 13

2011-11-13T19:41:00.000-08:00

I was out of town this weekend for one of Katie's swim meets...fun girl time, especially since we shared the weekend with one of my BFF's and her sweet daughter! Late nights and busy days have marked this past week and I finally crashed today and napped...which is SO not normal for me. I slept for an hour, and finally was awakened by snoring....who was that anyway?

ahem.

Anywho...I am again behind on my blogging but will promptly get caught up right here and now.

#11 on my thankful list...
Healthy Children
I do not take this for granted. I have five beautiful, healthy, strong, and athletic kids and I know that this is a huge blessing. I know that all of that could change in the blink of an eye, so I want it to be clear that I am truly thankful for this blessing. The moments of fear have been few, only a couple of ER visits and broken bones...ear infections and the like...but those moments were enough to make me imagine what families go through who know the hospital all too well. How they would give anything to have a diagnosis of no big deal, just an ear infection, here is a prescription and she should feel better in a couple of days. Thank you, Lord, for health and strength and life.

#12
Boys who love to be together
DJ and Drew are on the floor in a pile of arms and legs and breathless laughter with a football somewhere in the mix as I type. Drew has broken a sweat in all of his exertion and the two of them are just enjoying these moments of brotherly fun. I love these sweet times. They sit now and share gum and smack it like boys do, bonding over a video game and side-by-side, expressions intense and matching and thumbs flying as they discuss strategy and smack that gum some more. The recliners are back and they are settled in for a good match-up and dirty socks twitch with intensity as they get lost in their play. DJ instructs Drew and Drew feels so important to be part of this big-boy play with his incredibly cool big brother. Yes, these are indeed sweet times.

#13
Little mommies
Sometimes my girls get lost in their pretend world of baby dolls and playing house. They get so caught up in it that I have a hard time knowing if their conversations are real or if they are referring to each other as "Mom." I get sideways glances if I answer because they are not talking to me...but to whoever has been designated the Mom that day...usually Katie. They diaper and feed and rock and shop and stroll with their dolls as my heart gets a little snapshot of the future...the glimpse of the sweet mothers I pray they will be someday. I hear my words come out of their mouth and marvel that they are not conscious of the fact that they are saying what I have said to them so many times...what was once said to me. They talk about how they "got" their babies...how they adopted their 12 or 15 kids...and I rejoice at the legacy the Lord is giving us.

30 days of thankful...day 10

2011-11-10T14:35:00.000-08:00

Day 10...I am thankful for afternoon quiet. I am not one who needs lots of "alone time"...which is a good thing! I just need a few minutes to catch my breath...to sit in quiet and kick off my shoes and let my mind drift just a little. Just a few minutes. Right now my kids are playing contentedly outside on this sunny, chilly day. Our Ethiopian guests are resting and I am upstairs alone. Just for a few minutes. It is almost time to pick up Katie from swim practice, and then the busyness of dinnertime, baths, and bedtime will begin. Tomorrow morning will begin early as our friends pack up to go to their next destination...to bless another church full of souls with their sweet worship and joyful spirits. We will miss these girls, yes we will.

30 days of thankful...day 9

2011-11-09T21:34:00.000-08:00

Day 9...I am thankful for the sound of children, lost in worship. From the beautiful voices of a childrens' choir to the sound of sweet Drew singing to Jesus before he falls asleep, my heart fills and my eyes brim with tears every single time. How their sweet worship must please Him!

Tonight I watched with my spirit singing as the Holy Spirit moved in my church...14 little ones sang to the Lord and put sweet faces on the unimaginable number of orphans in our world. The Lord is working, and hearts were touched. Adoption applications were taken, children were sponsored through Compassion, and eyes were opened to the magnitude of this God-sized problem with a Jesus-sized answer. What a privilege to be a part of His work, to have sweet accents in my home and friends all over the world...to be truly part of His body that reaches the ends of the earth.
Yes, what a privilege.

30 days of thankful...day 7 and 8

2011-11-08T19:34:00.000-08:00

My home is filled today with sweet African accents and Amharic conversation once again, and my heart is burdened to pray for these precious girls who long for a forever family. T and M have stolen Katie's heart and she is begging for "just two more sisters"...ahem. T is convinced that Katie is Ethiopian...and it didn't help that Katie showed T her Ethiopian dresses and money! They came downstairs holding hands within 5 minutes and my heart just sang with joy. Mari showed them her photo album from Ethiopia and what fun it was for them to realize the people and places they have in common! T and M were so surprised to see photos of their nannies in our home and exclaimed in delight at the pictures of Yonas, Dawit, Robel, and Eyob...our precious friends and brothers in Ethiopia who serve the adoptive families of America World.

So on day 7 (which was yesterday, I know!) I am thankful for my home with plenty of room for a visitor or ten and the blessing of a large table at which to share a meal with friends.

On day 8 I am thankful for the happy mess that is Autumn. Piles of leaves and ten arms and legs sticking out of them in all directions...such wonderful kid happiness. I cannot wait to introduce our sweet Ethiopian visitors to these big leaf piles and fun tomorrow!

ETA: As we walked into our church to pick up our new friends, Mari took my hand and asked if these kids have a family. "No," I said, "they don't yet. But we are going to pray for God to give them a Mommy and Daddy."
She didn't miss a beat...and said, "They can share our Mommy and Daddy."
Out of the mouths of babes, I tell you. She remembers waiting. She remembers...and she knows what it is like to long, to wonder, to hope. I have to believe that the prayers of my daughter are soaring to the heavens, straight to the ears of God, powered with faith that moves mountains. Oh, my heart.

30 days of thankful...day 5 and 6

2011-11-06T15:11:00.000-08:00

Ok, ok, you KNEW I couldn't keep it up, right? I mean, blogging every day for 30 days when I had been lucky to get in one per month for the past year?

Anywho...

Last night we had a sweet brother and sister over for dinner who we have been blessed to get to know through a local ministry to international students. They are here from Malaysia, and what a blessing they are becoming to our family! This week, we will be hosting two beautiful Ethiopian princesses who travel with an international childrens' choir in our home. So the natural outflow of all of this international exposure?

Gratitude.

Thus...#5 on my thankful list is this big, beautiful world that our God has made. That in the span of a week I can be talking on the phone to one of my BFF's in Uganda as she and her husband jump through incredible legal hoops to bring home their new daughter, then have dinner with a Malaysian brother and sister, then have the joyful sounds of Ethiopian friends living in my home for a few days just blesses my socks off. It is a teeny tiny slice of Heaven...and I really can't comprehend how incredible it will be when every nation, tribe and tongue will worship together at His throne!

#6...I must say, #6 is my church. Small in stature, but big in love...we have been part of this sweet congregation for about a year and OH MY how God is working! We are taught good, meaty truth every single week, encouraged to be hands on in serving the Lord, and backed up with prayer and support when opportunities arise to engage in His work. Today I had the privilege of manning a table in our foyer with a friend and hearing our pastor preach on James 1:27...giving voice from the pulpit on this cause that is so dear to my heart. I had the privilege of answering hard questions by members of our church regarding what, exactly, this involves...and to realize that God is truly stirring the hearts of His people to care for the least of these.
A.MAZ.ING.
Right next to us was another table encouraging the church to pack shoe-boxes for Samaritan's Purse and it was thrilling to realize how many angles this calling can take. Caring for orphans and widows can be done in many forms and if we ALL do what God has called US to do, well I truly believe we as a church would make a huge difference in this so-very-needy world. This world desperately needs to see Jesus at work...to know he IS alive and real and involved in the details of our lives and we, as His body, have no shortage of opportunity to be His hands and feet and serve. We can live out the reality that is Jesus Christ every single day by loving those who, as our pastor said today, have nothing to give us in return.

30 days of thankful...day 4

2011-11-04T21:23:00.000-07:00

Well this is obvious, but it must be said:

I am thankful for my five beautiful brown babies.

Five kids who were placed in my arms by the very hand of God...
and who have since given me ever-deepening wrinkles and an urgent need for highlights in my hair.
Kids who cause me to go without makeup more often than not, then exclaim in happy surprise when I do manage to emerge from my bathroom with warpaint because...
"Mom, you look pretty!" (Insert incredulous...how did you walk in like that and come out like that expression)

Bare Minerals makeup is my friend, just fyi.

Hot breakfasts are a rarity...unless you count the microwave pancakes and frozen waffles, thanks to the presence of 5 babes under my roof and in my kitchen.

Sometimes we just wing it...go all crazy and stuff and have fruit with our chicken nuggets...because mom is gourmet like that.

My kids are responsible for the piles of laundry, the dishes, the leaves on my carpet, and the glue in my hair. They are the reason my fingernails have not seen nail polish in at least a year, and for my toenails having white crackle paint that stayed on WAY past cute and quirky until they were just, um, trashy.
They are the reason I am learning American History again...and Geography...and oh heck I might as well be honest, 4th grade math. Ok? Are ya happy?

My kids make me notice things that, before, escaped my vision...worms, creepy-crawlies, a perfect red leaf in the grass, and that cloud shaped like Jesus.

My kids have stretched my imagination and my heart...and they have been better teachers than I ever hope to be. They love me unconditionally...even when I embarrass them by getting FIVE STARS on THRILLER while playing the Michael Jackson Experience (oh yes I did!!) They hide their face in shame when I dance in the car, while wearing a big black afro because DJ changed HIS mind about wearing it and didn't believe me when I said I would. I turned up "Stayin' Alive" loud enough for neighboring cars to hear and relished their groans of embarrasment and uncontrollable laughter at this crazy woman they call Mom.

My kids fight and bicker and laugh and love and learn and play and make messes and sometimes clean up and make me crazy busy and darn it all if I don't love them more than life and wish time would just slow down for crying out loud.

My kids are a part of me...etched into my soul. I am a mom because I am their mom, their REAL mom in every important and God-defined sense of the word. I am fulfilled because my arms and my life are filled to overflowing by five busy, energetic, strong-willed, and hilarious children who suck every shred of energy from me by the end of the day until I go skidding sideways into my bed and pass out in the middle of the first paragraph of that book I have intended to read for over a month now.

Yes, I am thankful that I am never going to remember what it was like to have a quiet house because I am that barren woman whom the Lord settled in her home as a happy mother of children.

Praise the Lord and thank you, Jesus!

Oh, and is it wrong that I may not tell them about the impending time change for a couple of days after? I mean, y'all, it's a whole extra HOUR!

30 Days of Thankful...Day 3

2011-11-03T19:26:00.000-07:00

I am thankful for my husband.

I remember those early days of our marriage, when I thought I was so in love with him.

I had no idea.

As the "new" wore of and life set in, as hard days came and we learned to weather storms, then and only then did I realize the depth of love.

When he sat by my bed as I lay aching from exploratory surgery. When I fearfully whispered that I had failed him by being unable to bear children, and he said "I married YOU for you, not for a baby." When in my sleep I felt him place his hand upon my belly and I knew he was silently praying.

Then I felt the depth of love.

When I at long last held our first baby in my arms, he sat behind me, weeping.

When he wept at the placement of three more babies...and at the arrival of our last child home.

When he lays on the floor and lets them all climb on him and pull and tug at his limbs and wrestle and laugh...

When he lets DJ stay up past his bedtime to watch sports, I act annoyed at the late morning that I know will result, but I silently thank God for the way they enjoy each others' company.

When he gets SO excited about a weekend alone with me...after nearly sixteen years of me.

Then I feel the depth of love.

He is my rock...my stability. His words hold more power over my heart than any other person on this earth. His prayers fall on my ears like gentle rain, soothing my soul and settling my spirit.
He is the spiritual leader of my home...becoming more so, more confident in this place of responsibility, with each passing year. He is adored by our children, met with squeals of joy and forceful hugs as he walks through the door.

(I can assure you my arrival is NOT met with such, um, festivity...I'm just sayin'.)

He is God's gift to me, given when I was so lost. He was there when I accepted Jesus...leading me to the throne of God for the very first time. He watched as I followed the Lord in baptism and stuck with me through all the growing pains of my early walk with God.

Our life has not turned out like we originally planned...not even close. We never dreamed we would live like this...five beautiful brown babes, homeschooling, and living far from any family who could serve as respite.
No, this is not how we planned it...it is better.

I am so thankful to share this journey with him. So thankful that he puts up with all of my quirks and weirdness and wacky ideas. So thankful that he loves me in the best and worst of times and believes in me when I can hardly believe it myself!

My sweetheart, I am truly, from the bottom of my heart, thankful for you.

I love you.

Thank you for showing me the depths of love.

30 Days of Thankful...Day 2

2011-11-02T20:22:00.000-07:00

Today, I am thankful for a condition that has marked my body for sixteen years...

infertility.

Through this thorn in my flesh, I came to know God more deeply than I had ever known Him before. Those years of waiting, of longing, of grasping for that carrot that seemed always just beyond my reach...
those years taught me more than a million hours of seminary every could.

God grew me in those years. He grew me in ways that I have difficulty putting into words. He showed me how to lay down my sword and let Him fight. He showed me the meaning of trust.
He let me run out of words and hit the wall, so that in my brokenness I would fall into the arms of my sisters in Christ and let them intercede.

Because the blessing of the journey was never meant just for me.

He showed Himself strong in my weakness. He brought out the tender warrior in my husband.
He loved me through it and, even before the promise was fulfilled, he made me thankful for the pain.

I remember...looking into her eyes and she wept..."I don't know if I will ever be able to have a baby"...and I was able to honestly say, from the depths of my soul,

"You are going to be okay. You will learn so much from this. He will get you through and you will somehow thank Him for this pain."

Yes, I said it, and I meant it.

I still do.

Five children later, I am still leaning on the lessons He taught me in those years. As new challenges arise, and new worries threaten my heart, I look back on these stones of remembrance...every time He came through, how He never even one time failed me...and I hold onto those stones with hands clenched for dear life, lest I drop one.

Those who know your name will trust in you, for you, LORD, have never forsaken those who seek you. (Psalm 9:10)

30 days of thankful...Day 1

2011-11-01T19:40:00.000-07:00

So my bloggy friends have started a November thing...and being the "I'm not gonna jump on a bandwagon" type I hesitated because I always...ALWAYS...want to be sincere. But then I realized if I can't be sincere about this, I have a problem.
So here I am, jumping on the ~~blogging more than once a month~~ ~~going to be creative with these posts if it kills me~~ thankfulness bandwagon with gusto!

Where do I even start? Do you KNOW how much I have to be thankful for?

You don't?

Well let me tell you...at least, the first one. I DO want you to come back so I will have to leave some of the goodies for later.

#1
I hope it is quite obvious.
I am thankful for my Jesus.
The Son of God.
The Living Water.
The perfect atonement for my sins...because, boy, there are many.
I am thankful that He love me perfectly and completely even when I am at my most unlovable, that I can crawl back up into His lap and know He rejoices in my return...and once again washes me white as snow.
I am thankful that Jesus loves my family more than I could ever dream, that when I worry and pray and worry (Did I say that already? Silly me.) that HE has them covered. That He has promised beauty from ashes, grace and mercy unending, that the hard days are part of the journey and that they WILL pay off in rejoicing...in wonder at how He has woven this tapestry of our lives into a beautiful work of art. That iron sharpens iron and the refining of our hearts will result in His reflection being perfectly seen in us. That words of promise have been spoken that we can and must hold onto when the waves are rough and the storm rages around us.
Yes, I am thankful for this Jesus who calms the storm. Who gives peace and reassurance. This Jesus who changed my life so completely that I can hardly remember life before Him. This Jesus who purified my heart and left me with a complete distaste for what was once temptation. He showed me how to catch a vision for my family, how to live differently, how to not follow the norm but follow Him. He works in ME to will and to act according to His purpose and it blows me away.
Nothing I do can be accredited to me. Parenting my children, the decision to homeschool, the path our family-building has taken. Nothing. It is ALL Him. And I love Him so much.

Baptismal Waters

2011-10-16T13:54:00.000-07:00

When a child is born, our hearts look ahead.

We wonder...

what will it be like when?

When they learn to walk, talk, read...

When they ask Jesus into their heart, fall in love, get married...

When they are baptized.

Today I watched as my daughter, Gracie, submitted to the Lord.

I watched, alongside her brothers and sisters, as she gazed into her earthly father's eyes...as he spoke words of eternal weight over her and through his own tears lowered his daughter into the waters of baptism.

I saw my daughter radiate the joy of the Lord as she arose and walked carefully up the steps to me. Her face glistened with the water cascading down as she emerged. Katie handed me a white towel, face filled with wonder at the intensity in the face of her younger sister.
I lovingly dried the water from Gracie's face as I kissed her still-wet nose and whispered "I am so proud of you."

I marveled as Drew, overcome with the emotion-charged moment, laid his head on my shoulder and wept.

I heard the church service continuing below, but I know in my spirit there was worship in the splendor of Heaven as my precious little girl chose to identify with her Savior, unashamed to be His child...a child of the King.

I watched her walk, head held high and proud, into her circle of friends...stopping for hugs from our sweet church family and shouts of "Praise God!" along the way.

And I praise Him that her days are in His hands. He has gifted her with faith at such a young age, with a love for her Jesus that is unexplainable apart from His work, and I watch in awe as He works out His plan for her life. She will be used, that I know, because she is willing.

Thank you, Jesus.

Sweet Words

2011-09-26T17:45:00.000-07:00

I have had this urge to listen to Ethiopian music again lately. I wasn't quite sure where it was coming from, but every time I break out the Nahom Favorits #2 and Mari starts jamming to Chembalala or Elay Yaba-Addis Abeba the sights, sounds, and smells of Ethiopia literally flood my mind.

Then I looked at the calendar today...and it hit me like a ton of bricks! It has been exactly ONE YEAR today since my DH and I boarded that plane to meet our baby girl face to face.

A year has passed since that tiny little girl sauntered into the room and rocked my world.

I keep thinking "This time last year" thought such as...

This time last year I was scared out of my mind of flying across the ocean and leaving four babies at home.

This time last year I had no idea I would spend three extra days in Africa...alone.

This time last year I was a packing MACHINE.

This time last year I had no idea of the challenges we would face with Little Sister, nor of the joy small victories with her would bring to my heart.

I did not know the love that would wash over me when she lets me paint her toenails electric blue.

And I did not know how sad I would feel when she forgot her native language.

I took her for a haircut a couple of weeks ago and let the hairdresser cut off quite a bit so that we could keep her in my fave 'do of all time, the short afro with a headband and giant bow/flower/whatever gaudy accessory I can find. As the stylist cut off a good three inches I looked at the pile of curls on the floor and tears filled my eyes.

Africa. That hair on the floor is the hair she came home with from Africa. I had to restrain myself from scooping it up into a bag so that I could ~~try to glue it back on~~ save it. For what I'm not sure, but there was that sense of letting go...of cutting the cord, so to speak.

The little girl that stands before me is more American each day. Her accent is only slight now...still beautiful but fading. Her grammar is still hilarious, and it looks like it may be for a while, but she says things that shake me sometimes...things that remind me of the redemption that has taken place in her life.

"Mommy, you 'member in Etiopia when I did not know your words?"

While watching me look at children on the Waiting Child List...heart heavy with the need to pray for them...she asked me who they are. "These are kids who are waiting for a Mommy and Daddy, just like you did." She smiles with bright eyes and says "I have a Mommy and Daddy!" Yes you do, sweet girl.

"Mommy, I need to hold you."
"Mommy, I love you."
"Mommy, you're conjo." (The Amharic word for beautiful....one of only three she still uses!)

The remaining Amharic words, besides conjo, are bunna (coffee), and when she really needs to go pee BAD...shint.

That one will forever crack me up.

And above all these things is the realization that she LOVES. She loves her parents, and she loves her siblings. She wants to be at home. She feels safe here.

And though she may still do some unsettling things, like giving a blank stare to strangers or forgetting boundaries with visitors, she is not the same child she was this time last year. She is healing. Thank you, Jesus.

From Joy to Joy

2011-09-22T20:17:00.000-07:00

It amazes me how quickly time passes. Days turn to weeks turn to months and now here I sit with one child home 10 months and another about to turn five.

Slow it down, already.

Sweet Mari has passed a major milestone. She has officially been home longer than she was in an orphanage. Though she may not be conscious of that fact, I see it in her. Our battles are no longer daily...her behavior is more and more predictable. The only struggle has been with preschool, and I think we are quickly coming to a decision on that.

She goes to a Mothers Day Out twice a week, just for fun. She wanted to go because she saw the fun Drew had when he graduated from preschool and I figured it might be a good thing for her. At least I hoped so.
But despite the fact that she really, really likes preschool, it is taking a toll on her. When she is away from me, there is that internal fear that I may not come back. She prepares herself for that possibility and then acts out once home. She came home from Africa with enough "issues" of her own, and I am realizing that she is taking on some new ones while away from the shelter of our home.
I don't need her to go to preschool. It is not a break for me. In fact, it just takes more time out of our homeschool day when I have to take her and pick her up, so she really has been going for her own fun and not for my need for a break.
I have struggled with what to do because on one hand, the consistency of my coming to pick her up helps to build trust. But on the other hand, her behavior betrays her weakness and fear. Is that fair to her? Is it worth it? I read recently that people often put newly adopted children in school right away so they can make friends, but when they were in the orphanage friends were all they had. They don't need a bunch of friends now, they need a family.
And that is exactly what she has. When I asked her if she felt better when we were all home together she smiled and said "yes." She wants to go to school, but expresses that while she is there she misses me and feels scared.
She doesn't need that. I don't need the "undoing" I seem to be doing after every day she spends away from us.
Yep, I think my decision is pretty clear.

Last weekend my DH and I flew away for the weekend to attend the wedding of a dear friend. It was our first weekend away together since Miss Priss came home and boy were we ever in need of some couple time! It was FABULOUS. When we arrived home on Sunday, kids #1-4 came running and smiling and leaping into our arms. Mari smiled, said hi, gave a halfhearted hug, and kind of looked at me like "well what do you expect?" So I picked her up and planted her on my hip, smothering her with kisses. Her response?
"I want down."
Me: "Nope, you are staying right here."
"I want down, Mommy."
Me: "Nope, Mommy wants to hold you because I missed you!"
More protests, but I held my ground, stroking her hair and her back and waiting. Finally she gave up and her little body melted into mine.
Yessssssssssssssss.....
I held her a while longer and then very nonchalantly lowered her to the ground when I was good and ready. It worked like a charm. She has been more physically affectionate with me this week than she has been in months. She expresses how much she loves me several times a day, unsolicited. Oh what joy to win that battle! I just pray her little heart can finally see that this deal is forever, no going back, no matter what. We may go away now and then, but we ALWAYS come home. She is stuck with us and we are going to love her through whatever comes, no matter what!

Finally, we have my baby boy's upcoming birthday. Five years of the brightest white smile lighting up the most gorgeous ebony face you could ever imagine. Kissable lips and meaty little hands that give Mommy more hugs and love than I ever deserve. How I love my sweet boy.
He is SO excited about turning five, SO excited about being a "big kid", and literally counting the minutes until it is officially his birthday.
Five years old. I can hardly believe it.
He cops the cutest version of a black Justin Bieber that you have ever seen, lives for basketball, football, soccer...well, if it has a ball he can play it and plays it well. He adores his brother and sisters, loves to make us all laugh, and has a young faith that challenges my heart at its core...praying with such authority at a young age that it takes my breath away. My baby boy loves his Jesus. He lights up when his heart of worship is caught up in song, closing his eyes and raising his hands to the Lord. He loves church, his daddy, and his dogs. And oh, does he ever love his Mommy. I could write volumes about the way he looks at me when I sing to him. His eyes are ebony pools full of love. It is beautiful. I am so thankful for him. I am so thankful for this privilege of mothering him and experiencing all these wonderful moments of his life.
So, happy birthday my precious Drew! You are more than we ever hoped for...our unexpected surprise that we now cannot imagine life without. You are love and light and joy and fun...and you are the apple of our eye. Your siblings are so crazy about you, grinning at your antics and proud to call you theirs. You are a gift, sweet and perfectly fit for us and loved...so very loved. I pray this year you take that leap and give your heart fully and forever to Jesus. I pray the Lord lights every step of your way. May you rise up in strength and know why you were placed in such a time as this. May you be a life changer and live fully for the glory of God. His plans for you are good, and we count it all joy to be the parents He chose for you. Sweet boy, may you always feel the joy you bring to others and be blessed beyond measure.
We love you more than words can express.

Oh, and can you slow it down just a little, for crying out loud? I mean really...five?
Sigh.

Nine months plus...

2011-08-23T13:20:00.000-07:00

We went on a vacation...by airplane.
I wondered how this would affect her. We rehearsed over and over..."We are all going to California, we are all going to play at the beach, and we are all coming home together."

Over and over we reassured her that she could safely be excited about going on an airplane with Mommy and Daddy.

So we went. She smiled as she buckled her baby doll into her seatbelt. (Remember this? We've come a long way, baby!) I took a photo and marveled at what I was witnessing. We flew, we landed, grandparents and a cousin met up with us. We flew and landed again...and then we vacationed like nobody's business.

It. Was. Fabulous.

I heart SoCal weather, I'm just sayin'.

Katie learned to surf, Gracie built masterpiece sandcastles, Drew threw sand...and whatever else ended up in his meaty little hands, DJ boogie-boarded, and Mama? Well, I got myself a tan. :)

Mari played happily in the sand all week, testing boundaries occasionally, but she IS four. So no big deal. We had one incident when she nearly stepped into traffic just because she wanted to go the opposite direction from where she was told, but thankfully we stopped her and Daddy stepped in to make sure she understood that she must obey the details...if we say go out this door of the car, it is for a very good reason! (#1 being her safety!)

We ended the week relaxed and rested...ok not really. Let's just say those college students in the condo next door can PARTAY into the wee hours. I must be getting old. But we arrived home safely and I again saw another layer peel away from my daughter. Because we all went to California, we all played on the beach, and we all came home together.

She has been so much easier to deal with since.

I knew attachment was a process, but it really is remarkable to experience it. It happens day-by-day, layer-by-layer of trust. The emotions wax and wane, but they are always on an upward trend of growth. I have those moments when I sit back and think about what has transpired in 9 months and I am speechless. She is not the same child I brought home. She has grown in every way. Challenges? Yes, we have them, but not nearly to the degree we had them 9 months ago. My love for her deepens with every milestone, every smile, every time I hear her say "I want to go home" because she means home. Our home.

Last night, my husband read to our children and the kids took turns praying afterwards. Sweet Drew (age 4 and not given to accurate details!) decided to recount Mari's story to God...in his own way. He has been talking lately about how he is going to grow up and go to Africa and help kids find their mommies (meaning he will help kids get adopted). So he said "Kids in Africa don't have mommies and Mari doesn't have a mommy so I'm gonna help them find one." (Meaning kids LIKE her don't have mommies.)
Mari looked at him quizzically, then looked at me and said "I have a mommy."
"Yes, you do. You have a mommy and a daddy and brothers and sisters!" I said.

She smiled the biggest smile...a smile of satisfaction and joy. My heart leapt with the knowing on her face.
She is found. She belongs.

8 months and extreme randomness...

2011-08-03T20:21:00.000-07:00

Oh. My. Word. Has this EVER been a busy month!

Miss Mari has been home 8 (and a half...yes I am late) months and it has been a good season for her. There are still "days" but those days are SO much less intense than they were before. I am seeing her draw closer to her Daddy and seek his attention and comfort, as well as respond better to my verbal commands and now is able to "talk things through" instead of falling apart and screaming in anger or frustration. We traveled (this time ALL of us) to California for a week of fun in the sun and she did GREAT. Daddy was there through it all and stepped in at all the right times with her and she responded beautifully to him. Yes, she is still pushing those boundaries, but she had two of us enforcing them day in and day out for the whole week and I can see, now that we are home, how that really helped her settle a bit more.
She is more affectionate than ever, and now tells me "I need to hold you, Mommy" if she is upset. I love to cuddle her and feel her melt into me. What a work the Lord is doing!

I had a first with her this week that has struck me so deeply. It was completely unexpected. She had disobeyed and I was trying to talk to her, to get her to look me in the eye and focus on what I was saying. She kept fidgeting with her hands, scratching at her clothes and playing with her mouth so I took her hands and held them firmly in mine so she would have to be still and listen. She began to cry as I spoke and got very frustrated because the tears were running down her cheeks and she couldn't use her hands. It hit me...
I had never in 8 months seen tears run down her cheeks. Every time she has cried, she immediately takes her hands and wiped the tears before they even have a chance to spill over her eyelashes.

When is the last time someone wiped her tears away?

My heart broke for her. As I spoke, I reached out gently and wiped away her tears. Her eyes, which had been downcast, darted up and looked at me in surprise. I continued to stroke her face and catch the tears as they fell while talking her through the incident and helping her understand right from wrong...

that Jesus loves her and wants her to have a clean heart.

That He died to wash her sins away and He will help her to obey when it is hard.

(Because it IS hard...even for Mommy. Especially for Mommy)

In the midst of all this, our trip to Cali was nothing short of fabulous! My darling 10 year old, Katie, who until this Summer didn't even like the deep end of a pool, not only swam in the Pacific Ocean, she SURFED! Nine times my girl caught a wave a rode it in, standing on her own two feet! She was so excited and proud of herself, and I (being the dutiful mom that I am) thoroughly embarrassed her by screaming and jumping up and down on the beach..."YOU DID IT! YOU'RE SURFING! OH MY WORD, YOU ARE DOING IT!!!"

We ate, we ~~burned~~ tanned, we ate, we loafed, we ate, we played...did I mention we ate? I am a fan of fish tacos...
and donuts.
I'm just sayin'.

It was good. SO good. And such a well-timed vacay as we are now preparing for our first day of school!
GULP.

The schoolroom upstairs (which just recently became such...as the kitchen table was WAY too distracting with barking dogs, telephones, and doorbells interfering with concentration) was painted a cheery green today. Now I get to hang all the cute plaques with quotes SURE to inspire and finalize all the little details so we can get this par-tay started! I had hoped to start tomorrow but I think it may be Monday before we really get going. Maybe we'll do a 1/2 day for the next couple of days, just to get familiar with the books and new routine...but it will be a soft start to say the least.

I am so ready, though, to get going with this school year! The kids are ready as well...eager to try out the new books and programs, and I can just tell we need the structure to return to our days. It is time.
DJ is looking forward to his new Math curriculum, Katie (the bookworm) has decided she is going to assign herself book reports (we'll see how long THAT lasts!), Gracie is excited about being a first grader and doing ALL the subjects and Drew is "so proud that I am in Kindergarten" which just thrills me to no end! The boy cannot WAIT to learn to read!

I am SO thankful for this call the Lord placed on our family. Homeschooling is such a privilege, such a blessing. On the hardest of days, I would not trade one moment of watching my kids learn and grow and become best friends again. It is beautiful and I am humbled as I see the task before me. Lord, be my strength...fill me with wisdom and patience...use my hands and my words to bless and teach and train up my children in the way YOU want them to go.

Etch these days into my memory, more clearly than any photograph. May my children know and feel the love that surrounds them and be content.

Yes, Lord, may we all be content.

Lest I forget...

2011-07-14T12:40:00.001-07:00

My sweet Drew, so proud to be four-almost-five, has become enamored with a new song.

It is not uncommon for children to fixate on a song, singing it over and over ad nauseum, but this time is different.

This time, my son is not only fixated on the song, he is fixated on Who the song is about.

He asks me to sing it with him at every bedtime. As I sing, he looks into my eyes adoringly and joins in, heartfelt and only slightly off-key. His eyes, almost ebony, shine with joy. He serenades us in the car, reminding us that it is about Jesus, who died on the cross to save us from our sins.

Those are his words, at four-almost-five.

It is a song I have known for a long time but has taken on new meaning, a fuller meaning, when sung with my baby boy and I love with all of my heart that he loves this song so much...

Here I am to worship, here I am to bow down,

here I am to say that you're my God.

You're altogether lovely, altogether worthy,

altogether wonderful to me.

I'll never know how much it cost

to see my sin upon that cross.

I'll never know how much it cost

to see my sin upon that cross.

Oh, that his sweet heart of worship will only grow stronger...

Summer

2011-07-13T17:24:00.000-07:00

I sit with a book, unread. My children have captured my attention with their excitement...
squeals and laughter echo.

These are magical days.

Slanted light dapples through leaves as the breathless warmth gives way to cicadas and relief from Summer's heat.

Daddy stands below the treehouse, strong and ready to catch a little one lest they lose the grip on the zipline.

First Katie, newly ten and suddenly more grown, launches and laughs as she slows to a hanging stop. Drew, all boy and muscle and adrenaline, lets go at the bottom with an "Oh yeah!" and runs back for more. Then Mari tentatively steps off and spastically hangs on for dear life, knees awkwardly bent and eyes wide with a smile beaming and a giggle at the bottom as Daddy playfully lets her hang for a moment before helping her down.

My coffee, decaf at this time of day, sits by me steaming and waiting to be sipped. A dog lies at my feet, content from a long day of...lying at someone's feet. Gracie swoops in for a kiss, hair curled tight after a bath. So beautiful.

Boys coming sauntering through my gate as DJ and friends arrive ready for a game of basketball. Katie makes sure they stay in line and only slightly annoys her big brother with her participation in their game. Children move to the trampoline, springs squeaking and voices shrieking with delight.
More sound,

more laughter,

more magic.

7 months home

2011-06-23T09:21:00.000-07:00

This month took me by surprise. First of all, it flew by. Second of all, there were a few frustrating, eye opening, and just plain hard days that I had to give to the Lord because they threatened to cloud my vision.

Mari seemed to hit a new phase in her grieving process. It is hard for those outside of our home to believe it because in public she is happy, friendly, and a typical ornery 4 year old. But a few weeks ago we went to an airport homecoming for some dear friends. We spent the time before their arrival waiting and visiting and generally having a great time anticipating meeting the newest member of our circle of adoptive families. In the playfulness and excitement, Mari got bitten by a little girl on the finger. The little girl obviously did NOT intend harm, she has special needs and is in many ways like a baby or young toddler, but all Mari saw was a girl near her age and did not understand what happened. So, you guessed it, the biting began again at home.

Then, a week later, we set off on our yearly road trip to visit Papa and Nana 4 states away. Yes, that is 13 hours and a week in a hotel with 5 kids. C.R.A.Z.Y. It was stressful to say the least. She completely regressed, screaming in bathroom stalls, refusing to sit on the toilet, hitting, biting and clawing her siblings, lying to me, and disobeying every single thing. I said. It was awful. I should have just turned around and driven home. I could NOT figure out what was going on with her, since we had taken at least 3 road-trips with her and had never seen her react like this. I desperately tried to keep order, enforcing boundaries firmly and struggling to not "lose it" completely. My brain was literally scrambling all week. I definitely lost the mom of the year award.

After about 4 days of this, she finally used her words to express her fear. "Mommy, I don't want you to go bye-bye."

"Honey, I'm not going anywhere. Why do you say that?"

"Because I'm scared."

Oh dear God.

"Sweetheart, we are just here to play and visit. We will all go home to daddy on Saturday. You are my little girl and I will be your mommy forever, no matter what. I love you."

2 days later, it was time to drive home. The negative behavior had persisted, but was not quite as intense. Still, I had to keep those boundaries crystal clear in order for her to not go completely wild. Amazingly, that is just what she needed, and she responded well to my "being on top of it...like white on rice. "

We got in the car to drive home, and she visibly relaxed. The closer we got, the more she began to interact in a healthy way with her siblings again. Our arrival home was met with happiness from Daddy and tears of relief for me. Man, was that week ever NOT what I expected.

The day after we got home, my four oldest had various camps scheduled which gave me mornings alone with Mari. THAT was God-ordained, to say the least. I was able to work with her, one on one, and retrain her on how to express frustration and anger. "We don't use our fingernails, we use the flat part of our hands to move someone's hand away." She has caught up on her sleep, which is HUGE. If she is tired, she will lose self-control. I cannot express how important sleep is for her. She constantly asks questions about where everybody has gone, and I answer over and over "Daddy is at work, DJ is at camp, Katie is at tennis, Gracie and Drew are at basketball." Over. And. Over. But that is what she needs, the reassurance that everyone has "not gone bye-bye," but that they are all going to come home. Every day. If this does not reinforce God's call on our family to home-school, I don't know what does.

This week was VBS, but there was no way I was sending her after the events of the past two weeks. She did not like that one little bit. She knows the kids are having fun and coming home with crafts and treats, but I told her that until I don't have to worry about her biting or scratching other people, and until I know it doesn't make her feel scared to be away from me, she needs to stay with me. Not only has that given her incentive to cool it with the physical outbursts, it has reassured her that she is important and that I am not just trying to "get a break" from her. It has been a sweet time, singing in grocery carts, going out for treats together, playing "house" and just having fun together. I am so thankful that things have settled down.

So why did this road-trip have such a negative effect on her? I have thought and prayed about it, and I feel like I have finally gotten a handle on it. I share this because those who have adopted understand, and those who WILL adopt need to understand and be prepared.

We traveled without Daddy for the first time.

We took a long trip far from home and met a lot of new people...(Even Nana and Papa were like strangers because she did not remember them from when they came to visit just after she came home). My brother and his family, my cousins, aunts, and extended family, Nana's friends....everyone was new, and a potential "new mommy" to my fearful little girl who was apparently trying to prepare herself for the worst.

When Mari was relinquished by her mother in Ethiopia, she traveled without her daddy (because he had recently passed away). She was then taken on a long trip far from home and met a lot of new people, who she grew to love and who took care of her until I came to bring her home.

Then...we traveled (again without Daddy). I took her on another long trip far from home and she met a lot of new people and has grown to love us. For months any travel involved Daddy, so it did not trigger that fear of abandonment. But this time...

well the parallel is now painfully clear.

No wonder she was scared. And in her state of panic, she did everything she could to see if she could CREATE her worst fear. Could she make me leave her? If it was going to happen it was going to be on her terms.

But it was not going to happen. And I think that truth has sunk a little deeper into her spirit now than it had before.

The healing process can be so painful. The removal of old bandages, the cleaning out of wounds, are excruciating but necessary in order to promote the healthy union of the broken pieces and the softening of deep scars. Fear, like an infection, has been lurking below the surface. But every time the symptoms arise, every time we go in and apply the salve of love, reassurance, and boundaries, it's grip loosens. It is hard, it is frustrating, and it is heart-wrenching to see how those deep hurts affect her. But I am reassured by my Father who loves her perfectly and understands her deepest needs that He has given us the tools she needs for healing. He is at work and He is faithful to complete what He has started.

I want to end this on a positive note. This month has not been completely negative. In fact a lot of good has happened in Mari's attachment process. She is officially crazy about her big brother, DJ and he adores her. She and Drew have gotten past their intensely negative rivalry and constant competition for my attention and become BFF's. Oh sweet happiness! They laugh together every day and mimic each other's silly quirks to each other's delight. They play babies and race cars and basketball together and are often seen holding hands or giving spontaneous hugs. In fact I have heard a few "I love you's" as they run upstairs together. Thank you, Jesus! Mari and Gracie get along and play together very well, except when Gracie tries to mother her and then gets on Mari's last nerve. They love to play baby dolls and "House" together and their conversations can be hilarious. :) And Katie? Well, she can be a mother hen as well, (what tween girl isn't?) but sometimes I am thankful for that tendency. She is a huge help. Mari obviously looks up to her and Katie, despite the frustrating days we have had, truly loves her little sister.

God is at work...

and He is faithful to complete what He has started.

Oh, my heart.

2011-05-29T18:57:00.000-07:00

Little Sister has developed a habit of asking "Why?" after EVERY. SINGLE. SENTENCE. that I speak.

It was cute at first. Then the questions became either nonsense (Mommy, is that blue? WHY is that blue? Mommy, can I eat? WHY can I eat?) or obviously probing for a compliment. (Mommy, am I smart? WHY I SMART?)

So I started turning them around on her. Usually she just looks at me like "Ok, you busted me. I was just trying to see if you'd answer a silly question." But today it was different.

Mari: Can I sit in you lap, Mommy?
Me: Sure!
Mari: WHY I sit in you lap?
Me: Why are you sitting in my lap?
Mari: Because I love you.

And that, my internet friends, reduced me to a puddle of mommy-gooshiness.

6 months

2011-05-13T10:04:00.000-07:00

I cannot believe I am writing this. How is it possible that Mari has been home SIX months?
I remember wondering what it would be like at this point. Would she like us? Would be communicating easily? Would we be spending countless hours in a doctor's office, trying to get her healthy? Would she accept our love and affection?

So here we are at six months home. And it is nothing like I expected. It is just normal life. She acts (and acts up) just like her siblings. She is growing like a cute little weed, going from 2T at her homecoming to solidly 4T. Her language continues to develop and she understands most of what we say to her. The only difficulty comes when trying to explain abstract things, like time, emotions, and the "Why's" of life. But what four year old doesn't have difficulty, at least on some level, with those concepts?

We have had precious, hard conversations...about her birthmother, about what she was thinking and feeling when we brought her home, about how she cried during the 5 weeks she waited for us between court and embassy, and of her memories of the Transition Home and the wonderful nannies who loved her.

She will often say "Mommy, you mumember when...." and then launches into a sweet discussion of her homecoming. She even brought up the "biting" incident...and explained her sweet self.
She was afraid of her new big sister, and I can understand why when I think back to how roughly some of the older kids treated her. But she now smiles and says "biting bad, mommy. Mari no bite."

She loves stalking Facebook with me and seeing her friends come to America. She remembers Ethiopia with love, as do I, and together we long for the day when our entire family can go back to visit. She laughs with abandon, trusts with joy, gives affection to her daddy and me freely, and easily says "I love you" to us all.
Her African accent is slowly fading, which breaks my heart. But she still rolls those "r's", to my delight! The only Amharic word she still uses is "conjo" which means beautiful, but I will never let her forget "Eh weh de shal lo"...I love you. I often whisper it to her as I tuck her in.

There are frustrating days and easy days and days when I am overwhelmed with love for her as I watch her, unbeknownst to her. I see her sitting quietly with a book, flipping it's pages and softly chattering to herself, and my heart swells as I think about how radically her life has changed since this time last year. She has gone from a bald, malnourished, scared little girl to a beautiful, curly-headed, growing preschooler who skips around the backyard and yells happily from the treehouse.

Six months home. But it truly feels like forever.

And that, my friends, is of the Lord.

A good start...and a lot of randomness.

2011-05-01T20:01:00.000-07:00

Sunday...the first day of the week. Often it sets the tone for my week, good OR bad.
Church? Oh, it's always good. Well, almost. (I won't mention the service where the man next to me had apparently been smoking...a lot...and drinking coffee...strong coffee...and tried to cover it up with cologne.)

Back to my point. Church was amazing. We were filled up from the moment the service began and left knowing we had been in the presence of God. What a precious family we have been blessed to become part of.
DJ had a basketball game afterward and, even though they did not win, we had fun. Then we had pizza, came home to play on the trampoline and tinker in the garden, I shot some hoops with Drew who laughed hysterically the whole time (What? Do I look funny when I try to make a free throw?) and then had leftover pasta for dinner.

Ok, so the leftover pasta normally would garner "ughs" and "do we have to's" but tonight, for whatever reason it was delish. Oh, and I steamed some broccoli, just to have something new and fresh.

And Mari, who has refused to even TRY broccoli since she came home nearly 6 months ago, ate every bite.
Of broccoli.
She liked it...in fact, she loved it!
A new veggie is officially in the repertoire of this child who requests pizza for every.single.meal.
Can I get a witness???

The day ended on a sweet note:
My girls, all three of them are having a "sister sleepover" in Gracie and Mari's room. (Katie is on the floor in between the twin beds)
My boys were looking at comic books together as they settled into bed. (because Drew hasn't slept in his own room in months...the boys love being together in DJ's room with the trundle bed)
My kiddos love each other and have shown it today. My home is peaceful tonight. Jesus is King. We are blessed.

And I am thankful.

Little Sister, Big Laughs

2011-04-26T20:47:00.000-07:00

This afternoon we made a quick run into the local grocery store for a couple of items or twelve.

You know how that goes.

Went in for zucchini, avocados, tortilla chips, and tomatoes...came out with $101 worth of necessities including that fabulous looking organic cherry crumble...
but I digress.

As we were leaving we spotted my friend, Dora, whom Mari has only met once and that was not long after coming home...when her English wasn't quite "there" yet...and before she had become obsessed with (you guessed it)...

I said, "Do you remember Miss Dora?" and the child looked at me like I was crazy.

Like, "Woman, there is NO WAY that is Dora 'cause I KNOW Dora and that is DEFINITELY not her."

I pressed..."This is Mommy's friend, Miss Dora. Yes, like Dora that you see on TV...that is really her name! Isn't that neat?"

Mari smiles at her and, in all seriousness asks,

"Where's Mickey Mouse?"

I kid you not.

Dora was quick, though. "He's in the car!"

Gotta love it.

Romeo

2011-04-20T19:10:00.000-07:00

In eleven years of motherhood, I have never had a child with a serious "crush." There have been momentary giggles or red-faced grins in the presence of another cutie, but honestly I've never been one to encourage the whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing with my kids. Personally, I'd be fine if they didn't notice the opposite sex existed until they were at least 27.

I'm just sayin'.

So imagine my surprise when Drew, Mommy's loverboy and seeker of all cuddles, developed a little crush on a cutie pie in his preschool class. Now, her Mom and I have chuckled about it but I really blew it off because, well, he IS only 4. And at this age kiddos change objects of affection more often than they change underwear.

Again he IS only 4. And he is a boy. And I often wonder why his hamper doesn't fill up as fast as his sisters...

But I digress.

Last week, said pre-k cutie pie sent out birthday invites to her upcoming Easter-themed soiree.

The invitations have her picture on them.

I nonchalantly placed it on my kitchen counter and ~~promptly forgot about it~~ made plans to go out and buy a birthday gift.

Shoulda hid the invite.

Tonight, just before dinner, I spot my loverboy with the invite held close to his chest. He pulled it away long enough to gaze lovingly at the photo and proceeded to plant a kiss on cutie pie's face.

NOW HOLD ON ONE SECOND. Those kisses are MINE, buster! Don't you go and give them to some 4 year old who may or may NOT be deserving of those kisses because, lest you forget, those kisses are MINE! Until you are at least 27!

Ahem.

Five months...

2011-04-13T19:50:00.000-07:00

Can you believe it has been five months since my sweet Ethiopian Princess set foot on American soil?

I cannot.

In some ways, it seems like she has always been here. She just fits.

Her language has grown by leaps and bounds, and her beautiful African accent is slowly fading. I will be so sad when it is gone.

SHE has grown by leaps and bounds! Gaining an average of one pound per month and already growing 2 inches and 2 sizes since she came home, I am realizing that I should not have bought those clothes on sale at the end of last summer! She came home in a 2T and now is moving comfortably into 4T clothes. Her feet have also grown 2 sizes. And her hair? It has grown at least 2 inches. (I think I see a pattern here!) She no longer feels so little...when I pick her up I find myself having to work to hoist her up on my hip. She feels more "meaty"...my hands sink into her little bottom when I am holding her and her once bony frame is taking on layers of sweet, healthy "fluff". She is still very slender, but her limbs and her previously distended belly have met in the middle and her proportions are right, praise be to God.

Earlier this week she had complete dental restoration. She was SUCH a trooper. Even though she was nervous, nothing could squelch her excitement over getting "new teeth with no boo-boo's!" Her poor little mouth was in awful shape...her molars were actually loose and on the verge of crumbling.

Let me take a moment to give you some advice...Do not (I repeat DO NOT) take candy when you visit children in orphanages. PLEASE for the sake of their health and comfort, bring sugarless gum, granola bars, ANYTHING but candy. Little Sister spent her first three years with no access to dental care of any kind, therefore entered the orphanage with already weakened teeth, then spent eight months being given dum-dums by countless visitors to the Transition Home. She happily stuck those suckers in her cheeks, but never saw a regular tooth-brushing, therefore her molars were completely rotted in the exact spot where she kept those sweet treats on both sides. It has affected her greatly...she has had incredible difficulty eating anything crunchy or cold and often cried with the pain caused by her decayed teeth. She spent 2 hours under general anesthesia in order to have 2 molars pulled, 4 molars crowned, and every other tooth filled because every single tooth had cavities.

Every single tooth.

So please do not bathe the teeth of orphans in sugar. It is NOT worth it. They are just as happy to have chapsticks or gum...trust me. That is what we brought and they all loved it.

Anywho...I will step down off of my soapbox to tell you the funniest story!

We were at the Surgery Center awaiting Mari's procedure and our anesthesiologist gave her a liquid "happy medicine" to drink so she would be relaxed when they took her away from me to go to the operating room. She drank it down and continued to play with stickers for about ten minutes. Dr. L walked by and said "She may start to get wobbly, Mama."
"Ok," I said.
About a minute later she began to sway, so I laid her down on the pillow and she looked at me with sleepy eyes and said "Night night, mommy. BA ha ha ha ha!!!!"

Little girl was positively drunk! She cackled and cracked herself up and had everybody in stitches! She was even slurring her words! When they wheeled her back to the OR (yes I cried...) she was oblivious and went to sleep with no problem whatsoever.
When she woke up she was so precious. It felt so good to be there for her. I really believe that it was another opportunity to build trust with her, for her to see that I wanted her to be comfortable and feel safe, and I gladly stroked her hair back from her beautiful face and whispered how brave she was, how proud I was of her, and kissed her warm cheeks and the tip of her little nose.

She has recovered beautifully, though she is quite sore. I am so glad to have that behind her.

Five months. I notice this post is less about her adjustment and more about just normal daily life. What a huge praise to our Father and the Author of Adoption that is! We still have moments that are incredibly frustrating, but they are just moments, not entire days. She has talked a little more about her memories of Ethiopia, some of which are very hard to hear, and I feel like being able to have those conversations with her is huge. She remembers her Ethiopian Mommy being sad, and she remembers friends dying because "their bottoms got sick." My heart just weeps for all those who she left behind...for those who still wait for a Mommy and Daddy to bring them home and walk them through their healing. For those who are sick and dying and sad. Too many to count...but God sees and knows and loves every single one.

We stalk blogs and Facebook and rejoice every time we see that one of her friends is coming home. She LOVES seeing their pictures and knowing they are coming on an airplane to America just like she did. But still...there are five million orphans in Ethiopia. FIVE MILLION. I know they cannot all be adopted, but oh if God's people would rise up and care for these children...to be sure they have their needs met and get a chance to grow up and break the cycle of poverty...if the body of Christ will be willing, an entire culture could be changed.

Yes, Lord. We are willing.

How does my garden grow?

2011-04-08T09:05:00.000-07:00

I don't know about you, but I learn SO much from my garden.

I am not exactly a "green thumb"...this is only my second year to have a vegetable garden.

But when I checked the forecast and saw that we had the "all clear" to begin planting, well, you could not keep my hands out of that dirt!! (Nor the hands of my children...as you will soon see!)

As I worked, the Lord tenderly showed me how He has lessons for me in even the smallest things.

Nature truly sings of His glory!

The right tools...

and the sweetest of helpers...

work together to fill an empty void...

with PROMISE

A survivor of winter brings color and fragrance and flavor...

while a new resident settles in for the summer.

Dirty little hands relish the simplest of treasures

and we take a break from the work to take in what is bursting all around us

The first of many beauties that will grace my garden

And OH the lesson the Lord taught me here. I was convinced this was dead...a lost cause.
But NO! Tiny little green gifts appeared...little signs of hope and life!

So much beauty...

that can barely contain itself.

An empty heart, waiting to be filled...and the promise of rain to fill it.
Do you SEE what He is doing all around us??

A delightful discovery that thrilled my little boy's heart!

He enjoyed him for a bit, then gently put him back in his home, watching delightfully
as he squiggled back down into the dirt.

As the sun set, we finished our work.

We stepped back to admire the promise of harvest.

At last, we retreated indoors as the water settled
all the seeds firmly into their new home.

The LORD will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail.

Isaiah 58:11

2011-03-27T20:16:00.001-07:00

PLEASE join me in praying for this family. And SHARE this link with anyone who might have a public voice, political pull...ANYONE. Lord, move this mountain!

http://www.oureyesopened.blogspot.com/

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Looking Back

2011-03-24T10:03:00.000-07:00

July 4, 2006...

We had just moved into town. It was our third day here and we were invited to a neighborhood street party...BBQ, Fireworks, kids riding bikes in the street, and the chance to meet our new neighbors. Toward the end of the evening, a woman emerged from a group that had been visiting a few yards away. She was tall and elegant with a huge, bright smile and had an accent as Southern as sweet tea.

Over the next few weeks, we became friends. Our kids enjoyed playing together and we enjoyed visiting. Living only a few houses apart, we were able to drop in whenever the mood struck without having to "make a playdate." I found out that she was a breast cancer survivor and wondered at that...she looked so strong and healthy, an avid tennis player. I had such respect for what she had been through.

She began having health problems here and there, but it didn't slow her down. She would have a procedure, take a few days to recoup, then be back on the tennis courts. But one day, she showed up at my house and told me, "I just came from my oncologist."

My heart stopped. "Oncologist?" My mind prayed, oh dear God NO.

"Is it back?"

She nodded. "It's back. It's bad, I just know it's bad."

I hugged her hard and held her as she cried, felt the fear causing her to tremble. "You're gonna beat this. I just know it." I hoped my saying it out loud would make it true.

God please make it true.

She began treatments right away. I learned so much by watching her walk this journey. Cancer is an ugly disease marked by waiting, hope, despair, the roller-coaster of tumor markers rising and falling, and the awful side effects of chemo. She laughed at "chemo brain"...the forgetfulness caused by the poison meant to kill the cancer. She had fun with her wig, grinning when it was crooked and sometimes ditching it altogether. I loved it when she let her baldness show. "You wear that beautiful bald head proudly," I told her, and I meant it. I saw it as a badge of honor, marking her as a fighter and a survivor.

For more than four years she lived life to the fullest and determined to defeat the disease. She adored her husband and children, fighting with every breath for just one more day with them. No matter how sick or weak she was, she relished her role as wife and mother and determined to get up and put on a smile if at all possible...and sometimes when most of us would have thought it impossible.

But even more than the way she lived each day was the transformation of her spirit. This proud, strong woman who loved God began to slowly be betrayed by the very body that she had taken such pains to keep healthy. As her body deteriorated, though, the light of Christ grew brighter and brighter and she went from loving Him to absolutely ADORING Him. In her last months, she was frail and thin but her face was radiant.

I told her, "I know you don't feel well, but you look absolutely beautiful. You are glowing."

She smiled and said "He has filled me with His presence. It is so amazing. I have never felt like this before!"

She knew her condition was terminal, though she believed God could heal her instantly. She was at absolute peace, though she desperately wanted to watch her children grow up. But I believe, and I told her this the last time I saw her, that being a Christian means we don't miss anything good. I believe we do get glimpses of what goes on here on Earth. Revelation talks about it...about the Saints talking with God regarding events down here.

The last time I saw her...

Nine of us gathered to pray, knowing her days were drawing to a close. We all crawled in bed with her and prayed and cried and sang and just loved on her. Someone read Revelation 21...My precious sister closed her eyes and smiled as she absorbed the promises of the God whom she knew she would soon see face to face. We rubbed her hands, feet and head and told her how much she means to us, how knowing her has changed us, and how we would always be here for her children. I can still feel her cheek against mine as I hugged her goodbye. The warmth of her skin that had become so thin. "I love you," I whispered.

"I love you," she said.

A few days later several of us received text messages...a final goodbye from our friend just in case this was the last time she'd have the strength to do so. I continued to text her often and remind her that I loved her and was praying for her every day...and I would jump every time my phone beeped thinking "this was it."

And finally, yesterday, it was. She was released from her disease-riddled body and set gloriously free into the presence of the Savior...the Jesus whose image she reflected so beautifully to us all.

I can only imagine the relief she felt when the pain was gone and she saw HIM.

I write this to honor my friend and sister in Christ. I feel so blessed and honored to have walked part of her journey with her. May we all learn to live and reflect His glory in the way we love and serve those around us just as she did.

My dear sister in Christ, thank you for sharing your journey with us. Because of the work I saw God do in YOU, I will never be the same. I will see you soon, sweet friend. I am sure your laughter is echoing through Paradise and putting a big grin on the face of Jesus.

Revelation 21:1-7

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” Then he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.”

He said to me: “It is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. To the thirsty I will give water without cost from the spring of the water of life. Those who are victorious will inherit all this, and I will be their God and they will be my children.

Time flies...

2011-03-23T19:21:00.000-07:00

when you are having fun.

And homeschooling.

And have 5 kids.

And can FINALLY be outdoors again!

It has been four months (and one week...because I am fashionably late) since we arrived home with Mari.

What is she up to these days?

Well, she is growing like a weed! She is putting on about one pound per month and outgrowing clothes right and left. Her grasp of the English language grows stronger and stronger, but thankfully she still mixes up words so delightfully that they leave us in stitches. She continues to enmesh her sweet self into our lives and seems more secure than ever. Her siblings have grown to truly love her and are quite protective of her, and she loves them right back.

Her memories of Ethiopia continue to trickle out little by little. She is obviously very young and I know she will not have many detailed memories as she gets older, but I encourage her to talk in the hopes that her memories will stay alive. Some of our talks have been fun, like what kind of animals she saw and who her friends were at the Transition Home. But some things are just hard. Some things, I'm not sure I want her to remember. For instance...

After a battle over food (she often refuses to eat...I have to find the right "currency"...such as going to bed early or no dessert when the rest of us have it) I asked her if she remembered her food in Ethiopia. Her reply: "In Ethiopia, I hungry."
So I tried my best to explain to her that Mommy loves her and does not want her to get sick. That if she doesn't eat she will get sick, but if she does eat she will grow and get big. She liked that idea. :)

Another question, when she seemed to be struggling with her permanency in our family, was about her birthmother. I felt it was time to bring her up so we would talk about how it was affecting Mari's heart. I asked her what she remembered about her "Ethiopia Mommy."
She answered "Her sad."
I had to swallow the lump in my throat to explain that her Ethiopia Mommy was sad because she had no food for her, that she loved Mari very much and wants her to be happy, that we have plenty of food and will always be able to give her what she needs and she will never have to go "bye bye" from our family.
And then I wished a million times that I could find her birthmother and fill her home with food and medicine and, well, running water. It kills me.

Every time we have a conversation like this, it seems to help her. As her language grows, so does her trust and confidence.

And when I ask her to do something (like pick up a toy) and she replies "Yessa my mommy!" my heart flips and I just want to sing over this precious little munchkin who skips happily around our house and giggles at the drop of a hat.
I. Love. Her.

But WAIT, there's more!

In the past weeks we have chased a squirrel out of our house (twice!) who flew out of our chimney THROUGH the fire, over the couch, under the kitchen table (where we SAT eating lunch) and into the laundry room!

Sweet mercy. My kids, they were a-freaking!

We have schooled...and schooled...and schooled. Gracie is reading (!) and DJ's writing skills have exploded! Katie inhales books faster than I can produce them and Drew has decided he wants to learn, too! Then Spring came and schooling has been more of an exercise of the will as the birds are singing and the flowers are blooming and...wait, that is SCIENCE out there! Let's go play!!

The kiddos started an enrichment course today at a local farm that is absolutely amazing. They came home chattering about all they saw and did and smelling quite ripe as a result! Good times.

But finally, I have to share a very bittersweet piece of news. If you are a reader of my former blog, you will remember my precious friend, "A." Well, on February 19th she stepped out of her cancer-ridden body and into the arms of Jesus. She went, literally, with a smile on her face. Though we knew the end of her earthly life was near, it still hit hard.
I miss her.
So the next week was spent saying "see ya' later" and celebrating her life. Loving on her kiddos who miss their mama so very much, weeping with her husband who would give anything to have had more time with her, and rejoicing at the thought of her healthy, safe, and vibrant in the presence of God. The day after she went Home I wrote a tribute to her that I posted on Facebook. I think I will share it here, but in its own post.

She deserves to be set apart.

So as you can see, life has been full to the brim as of late. I have been journaling more and blogging less. I have been spending more time with Jesus and less time on Facebook.

And I have been counting my blessings...one by one.

Oh yeah, I also read Ann Voskamp's book, One Thousand Gifts, on a Florida beach over Spring Break.
Go, quick, and buy it.
It will change your life.
I am sure it has changed mine.

A MUST SEE!

2011-02-20T18:18:00.000-08:00

I '"lifted" this off of another blog and watching it brought back so many memories! We weren't doing "gotcha day" videos back when my oldest were born so to see this and remember is a huge blessing to me today. Note the statistics...extremely heartwrenching. But imagine if more birthmothers saw how we honor them...saw how their babies are LOVED. Maybe, just maybe, more would choose LIFE.

Grab a hankie and ENJOY!

3 Months Home

2011-02-15T17:04:00.000-08:00

This week marks 3 months since Mari first set foot on American soil. In some ways it has flown by, but honestly it feels like she has always been here. She is doing so well, integrated her sweet self into our family so inexplicably that we feel the void left when she is away. Her English progresses daily and I am sure she understands 90 percent of what we say...unless she is in a "mood"...

...at which point she suddenly only speaks Amharic.

But these days are just leading one into another quite effortlessly and, once again, I wonder at the miracle of adoption and how God knits families together so perfectly.

Her manipulative behaviors lessen weekly. She skips around the house singing songs and playing with her siblings, happily pretending her "baby" is hungry or riding her little 4-wheeler around the yard until the battery begs to be recharged. She rarely speaks Amharic any more. The only phrase that she consistently uses still is "Eh-weh-de-shal-lo" which means "I love you."

I pray that phrase never leaves her vocabulary.

She has begun to talk about Ethiopia, about her memories. I wish I could see what she has seen. There is so much we will never know, but some things we DO know.
1) She has seen babies born.
2) She has seen Elephants and they are "nice"
3) She likes Ethiopia...because in Ethiopia they dance. Then she showed me her cute version of the Ethiopian shoulder dance!

I promised her that one day our whole family will go to Ethiopia to "visit friends" and that thrilled her. She loves to watch environmental documentaries such as "Planet Earth" because they remind her of Ethiopia. I must say I miss Ethiopia myself...as does Katie. We talk about it often: the sights, the sounds, the smells...how we long to go back again. We definitely left a part of ourselves in that country.

Mari's English still makes us chuckle at times, like when she says "Be quiet boy!" which I finally figured out means "Use a quiet voice!" She loved celebrating "Ballentimes Day" and still can't figure out why her "Happy birthday is all gone." Abstract concepts like "next year" just haven't become clear yet. Thankfully she still has the cutest African accent. She no longer requests injera, but instead asks for pizza or waffles. She adores all of her siblings, but has a special relationship with DJ who is so very tender with her. She and Drew have gotten over the hump of sibling rivalry that was created by their close ages and now they often go off together holding hands. My heart sings when I hear him say "Good job!" and especially when one of them goes to the other so they can give a kiss on the cheek.

Insert happy sigh here.

Not that our days don't have their challenges. They do. But the challenges seem normal. Just part of having 5 kids and all the diplomacy that must be exercised in a large family. There is always something to learn, grace to be shown, mercy to be received. God is not finished with us yet.

It's the Little Things

2011-02-02T21:59:00.000-08:00

One of the many joys of adopting an older child is seeing them "get it" as they realize on a new level the permanency of family. We had several framed pictures of her around the house, but none on the walls. We have had new family portraits made, but they have not been printed and framed just yet. I had a wall with four 8x10 photo collages of our oldest four kids so I ordered a collage of Mari that would match theirs. It arrived in the mail and I framed it today. I began the task of rearranging the pictures to accommodate #5 and she came into the room to watch. I showed her the picture and she gasped in delight..."That's Mari!" she exclaimed. Then I showed her how I was putting a nail in the wall and, as I hammered, she asked "Are you OK, Mom?"
"Yes," I said. "It doesn't hurt me. I am just putting the nail in so I can hang your picture."
Then I did it. I put her picture on the wall...
for the first time.
The smile on her face was magical.
She was so excited she was about to jump out of her skin.

Why?

You see, that hole in the wall is permanent. That wall will never be the same. There is a new picture, her picture, nestled among her new siblings on the wall.
Another layer has peeled away.
Another level of trust was revealed.
She belongs.

Family.

That word becomes richer every day.

Moments...

2011-01-26T21:24:00.000-08:00

I don't want to forget all the ways sweet Mari butchers her new language. "Mommy, eeee-yut some milk?" (Can I have some milk?) "Mommy, we go jumpaly?" (Trampoline!) One of the cutest is her version of "I can do it myself." She says "Mari I got it!"

I also don't want to forget the look on sweet Gracie's face when she blew out birthday candles last week for the sixth time.

Six. How is that possible? My chub-a-licious baby girl has become this tall, lanky young lady who milks every ounce of joy out of every moment of every day. And she can read. Slow down, sweet girl.

I don't want to forget the sound of her squealing with delight when she got a BIBLE from mommy and daddy. The next gift was an American Girl...but it did not hold any more joy in her heart than that purple Early Reader's Bible.

I want to remember the stacks of books by Katie's bed, read (more like inhaled) more quickly than I can believe, the look on her face when she was told she gets her braces off next month, the sound of her hamster running in his wheel and her sweet "awwww" every time he burrows under his bedding.

Oh, did I forget to tell you about the hamster? That is another story!

I want to remember DJ in his pajamas, forgetting for a moment that he is almost 11 and too cool to hug mom as he sleepily sits on my lap and lets me ruffle his hair.

I want to remember the feel of Drew, so heavy and big for his age, with his long arms and legs wrapped around me and his sweet face nuzzled against my neck. He loves to be held and touched by mommy, and I love to smooch his sweet cheeks. He is only 4, after all, even though he wears the clothes of a 6 year old!

So many times I think "I need to write that down" but it doesn't happen. So many memories tucked in the back of my mind that fail me when I sit at the computer. But they are there, triggered by the smallest things. I truly believe one of the joys of Heaven will be perfect recall...I will be able to think and remember and enjoy all the little moments of life that pass by too quickly. Time slips away, but I believe every moment with my children is a treasure in Heaven.

I am a wealthy, wealthy woman.

Princesses are real.

2011-01-20T17:38:00.000-08:00

The big kids are at basketball with Daddy so things have been pretty low-key for the past couple of hours. After a while the creative juices started flowing through Gracie and Mari and I listened as my little girls giggled while dancing around (and around...and around) our coffee table singing "If you're happy and you know it" at the top of their lungs. One was on beat as she shouted "Hoo-Ray!" The other? Not so much. I heard "Hoo-Ray!" followed 1 1/2 beats later by "Hoo-Way" (in the cutest little African accent ever) and I quickly got out the video camera to record the cuteness.
Now they are playing dress-up and two beautiful brown-skinned princess are on parade in all their glitter and rustly-ruffle-ness with flowers in their hair and purses on their shoulders.

Life is good.

Through the eyes of my daughter...

2011-01-16T20:00:00.000-08:00

My sweet Katie wrote a journal about her experience in Ethiopia. I have had it on my desk for a month but, because I am nothing if not inefficient, I have yet to share it with you! So, at Katie's request ("MOM you still haven't put my thingy on your blog???") I present to you her journal entitled...

Travel

I have to admit the travel part was boring. There were no good movies on the plane so I watched one on my mom's i-pod. For those of you who are wondering how long the flight was, it was sixteen hours. That is long. I will never complain about the trip to my cousins' house again. I didn't even sleep the whole flight. When we landed I got sick. My mom thinks it was altitude sickness. When we were driving down the road it really struck me how much we have. Some of the houses were smaller than my bathroom. Then we saw some houses that looked as big as an average house in America. When we got to the guest house we were told as soon as we got situated we would go get Mari. When we got to the transition home Mari ran to my mom. The she was standing, looking at me like who are you? Then my mom told her I was her sister and she gave me a hug and we played for a while then we took her to lunch and she ate like a grown man! When we got back to the hotel I got sick again and then fell asleep till like 10 at night! The next morning we went to embassy and then we went to lunch and ate lamb and injera an Ethiopian flat bread. Then we went to the palace/museum and there was a picture of the princess and she looked just like me! the next day we went to the transition home and at lunch I ate weird ravioli. It was gross! Then we went back to the transition home for a couple of hours and then left. The next day we went to Entoto mountain and that was fun and saw another old palace on Entoto. Then went shopping and then went back to the guest house to pack. By then I was ready to be home. Going through the airport was tough with Mari. When we were waiting to board our plane we had to go through security again. Mari was asleep so I carried the bags for my mom. I was so tired I fell asleep during takeoff and slept till we landed in Rome and then stayed awake for the whole rest of the flight. When we were landing in D.C. Mari was screaming for forty five minutes. Mari didn't react to seeing America. The next flight to Atlanta I ate and was bored. While we were in the airport I was bored. When we boarded the plane I slept the whole way. When I saw everyone standing waiting I was so happy to see my family and friends. My mom was crying then we took a pic with Michael W. Smith. I would've been starstruck if I wasn't so tired! We stayed to watch someone else come home then we left! That's my story of when I went to Ethiopia!
Now that we are home I feel that God answered my prayers!

Ok, back to mama's commentary. I am so stinking proud of her. I love that in all the wonderful details she described, there is very little about the negative behavior of Mari toward her while we were in Ethiopia. I love that her sweet heart remembers the sights, smells, and adventure of Africa. And I love that she truly loves her little sister and sees her as the answer to her prayers because she did, in fact, pray for a sister from Africa for two solid years. I truly believe God used Katie to open our eyes to the reality of 147 million orphans and our ability to make a difference, one child at a time. I believe that Mari is home because of the fervent, faithful prayers of her big sister.

Full Circle

2011-01-15T20:37:00.000-08:00

Exactly two months ago I arrived home with sweet Mari.
Two months.
So much has happened in two short months.
First of all, her use of English has exploded and, as quickly as the English comes, the Amharic leaves. That makes me sad, but I know it is normal for a child her age. She rarely speaks Amharic anymore. Even when she plays with her dolls, they speak English to each other. She uses words like "wonderful" and "time for bye-bye" and tells me often that "Mari no nigh-night" just minutes before falling asleep in the car. She is learning the blessings of obedience and loves to help me "cuh-leen up" just about anything. Her quest for control has lessened as her trust has grown. It is not over, not by a long shot, but it is definitely getting easier to reign her in when she is being difficult. If you could see her angelic face you would say "What? That angel baby can be difficult?" I know, I know, but the truth is, the honeymoon ended about 2 weeks ago. How do I know?

Believe me, it is quite obvious when the honeymoon ends. She absolutely tried herself last weekend, and apparently I looked a bit...um...not happy. She looked at me and said "Mommy, Mari no bye-bye." My heart sank because it confirmed what I suspected. She was seeing if she could push us away. I had to be up to the challenge of enforcing limits yet smothering her in hugs and kisses between time-outs to reassure her that this is just part of family life. Sometimes you just have hard days. The manipulation that was your survival mechanism is no longer necessary, sweet one. You can relax and take your finger off that button you keep pushing.

Yes, Little Sister can push buttons like a pro, tattling on Drew (who has had the most difficult adjustment due to their close age) and relishing the possibility of seeing him get in trouble. I have to be extremely careful to not let her exert power over him so that HE knows his position in the family is secure. He has needed lots of Mommy TLC and babying to remind him that he is, in fact, my baby boy even if he is HUGE for a four year old (he can rest his chin on her head)...but I digress. They are getting along better and better each day, and he is realizing his important role as big brother. But there are those moments when naps are needed, not only for their sake, but for mommy's sanity.

I could end most world conflicts with the diplomacy skills I have learned, oh yes I could.

One funny thing I have to add here. Several days ago, he was playing with a toy and Mari seized a moment when he was distracted to take said toy. He looked at me in all seriousness and said "I don't like Africans playing with my stuff."

I nearly choked on my Ethiopian Yirgacheffe.

Yes, that is my coffee of choice.

That being said, I really don't have any more behavior issues with her than I have with the others at this age. She is four. Four year olds can be annoying. Four year olds don't like boundaries yet desperately need them, and four year olds can "do it myself" yet melt down when, in fact, they can't. She is a completely normal four year old despite the abnormal way she spent the past year of her life and the abnormal amount of loss she has experienced. She is loving, almost always kind, compassionate, affectionate, hilarious, and strong-willed. She laughs from deep in her belly, and her eyes sparkle when she does something to make us say "Good job!"

Our biggest battle right now is over food. Though she nearly starved to death by the age of three, she is one picky eater. I know, though, that this behavior has started because she now knows there is a pantry and fridge full of food to be eaten and that there is no longer the threat of hunger in her life. She also knows Mommy wants her to eat her "good food to make her tummy happy" and, in another effort to have control, flat out refuses to eat about half her meals. So I have had to do some creative bargaining and let her learn the hard way when all who ate their lunch get a lollipop or brownie but she doesn't. She fully understands her decision, which is interesting...she never throws a fit about it. She just tries to see if I have forgotten and asks for "carmela" and I say, "No carmela because no eat. If you eat your good food, then you get carmela." She smiles like she is thinking "I knew you would say that" and goes on about her business. She is no dummy.

I have learned so much from her in two months. She responds wonderfully well to structure and thrives in a quiet room. When we are homeschooling, she is very happy to sit down and color with crayons or play with blocks. She likes to "check in" every few minutes, telling me she loves me or showing me something she has made. She and Drew sometimes go off together and play and it thrills me when they head upstairs, hand-in-hand. She is crazy about DJ and Katie, and Gracie sees her as a living baby doll who is oh-so-fun to dress up. She has integrated into our lives so well...or is it that we have integrated into hers? We have all changed as a result of her addition to our family, and it has all been for the better.

Sometimes when I look into her eyes I see Africa so clearly and I long to hear the sounds of Addis or smell the air on Entoto Mountain. I see her trust and her attachment to me, and her need for me to fight for her...to let her know in no uncertain terms that she belongs here, with us. Friends may come and go, but we are family, forever and unyielding in our loyalty.

Life with Mari is...how do I sum it up?

Well, it is normal. It feels right and natural. It is joy, frustration, wonder, and pride all at once. It is the realization that, without God right in the middle of each day, I will fall flat on my face and fail my children miserably. But with Him leading the way, I see my children coming together in love and learning more each day what it means to heal, to be redeemed, and to be chosen.

I gave this post the title "Full Circle" for a reason. Tonight, exactly two months after coming home, Mari stood in the exact same airport terminal and welcomed her friend, T, to America. She was so excited to see him and his brother (who has been home since August), as she had known them both in Ethiopia. As we prepared to drive to the airport she told me she was going to hug them both, and she did. To watch a friend come home, to know that there are now three of them here, living within miles of each other, was very powerful for her. We have talked over the past several weeks about how T's older brother was home, but T was in Ethiopia, waiting...well tonight she said "Mommy, T is at his HOUSE!"

Yes, another little heart is beginning to heal tonight.

I wonder what they will be saying two months from now.

Where has the time GONE?

2011-01-14T22:20:00.000-08:00

This week marked 2 months since we brought Mari home and I have fully intended to blog every day but, obviously have failed to do so.
I want to tell you so much.
She is doing extremely well, as are we all. She has integrated into our not-so-little family beautifully and God continues to teach me lessons, some of them hard, through this journey called adoption. More than ever, I realize my utter dependence on Him to "get this right." There is a post cooking in my cluttered brain that I will hammer out as soon as I can get more than 10 minutes on the computer so...
stay tuned!

I Will Be A Carrier: Davids' Story: URGENT NEED!!!

2011-01-11T18:36:00.000-08:00

PLEASE read this link and ACT. Pray, and if the Lord nudges you, BE THE ONE to change this child's life!!!!!!!!!!!

I Will Be A Carrier: Davids' Story: URGENT NEED!!!: "Contacts for more information about Davids: 1)LeAnn Dakake (New Horizons for Children) 678-313-8321 cell dakake (a..."

A Birthday...

2011-01-05T19:06:00.000-08:00

We don't know exactly when Mari was born.

In Ethiopia, countless babies are born in mud huts in remote regions of the country. There is no hospital record, no birth certificate, and no yearly celebration. Their ages are usually determined by the seasons and, often, people lose count of the years and have no idea how old they are. Mari was one of those babies.

But exactly one year ago today, when interviewed by the court as she faced the most heartbreaking of decisions, her birth-mother said she was three years old...
"I don't know exactly when she was born, I just know she is three."

So that day, today, became her legal birthday. That day, today, marks another year of life and a year since her birth-mother began a painful journey for the sake of her youngest child. A child whom she misses terribly.

So today we celebrate our sweet daughter's 4th birthday, and the piece of my heart that will forever be in Ethiopia weeps for a woman whose face is forever etched in my memory. I pray she has peace. I pray the Lord mercifully gives her visions of her daughter laughing as she hides from the lit candles that make her more than a bit nervous, then giggling with delight when I helped her blow those scary things out. I pray she sees Mari's wide eyes as she tasted birthday cake for the first time, and the sound of her sweet voice saying "Eh weh de shal lo, Mommy" as she lay her head on her fluffy pillow and snuggled under her warm blankets while cuddling with her favorite baby doll. And I pray that she and her children have all they need and more, that they will be lifted out of poverty and disease and given life and health. I pray along with them that they will live to see her grown.

Thank you, Lord, for this story that is so much bigger, so much more beautiful, than we are. Thank you for allowing our world to become so big through another beautiful pair of deep brown eyes who has lived a lifetime before becoming part of ours. Thank you for protecting Mari's life, for not allowing poverty to take her too soon.

Thank you that she is home to celebrate her 4th birthday...the first of many.

May all of your precious ones who wait be so blessed...

4 Weeks of New Life

2010-12-11T19:19:00.000-08:00

"Mommy, wash-a my hens"

Words that just came from the lips of my daughter, who is proud of herself for washing her hands on her own.
Words that would have been meaningless to her a month ago, when the only English words she knew were trash, Mommy, Daddy, I love you, and I see you.
Now she is putting together full sentences, understanding that we ALL share a last name, and taking ownership of her home, her belongings, and her family.

Family.

She began her first days home with excitement mixed with moments of intense fear. She was smiling and chatty most of the time, but always made sure I was in view. If she wandered out of the room while playing and forgot where I was, she would begin running in circles around the room and screaming with a look of utter panic in her eyes and tears streaming down her cheeks. I would run to her and scoop her up, cradling her until she calmed down. This happened several times a day. At night, we began with her sleeping in our room on a pallet. She would wake up screaming, soaked with sweat. We realized after a couple of nights that we just needed to let her sleep with us. She CRAVED physical touch and would cuddle in as close as possible, resting her soft cheek against the base of my neck. I would hold her close and pray over her, for peace and the understanding that she is forever home...she is safe.
After about a week the night terrors stopped. We then put a pretty pink toddler bed against my side of the bed and she seemed excited about it. She happily went to sleep in that bed, but would awaken 2 or 3 times during the night crying out for me. I would reach down and touch her and she would hold my arm like a baby doll and go back to sleep.
Meanwhile, the sweet bonding continued. We began homeschooling again three days after she came home. She sat and colored or played with play-dough, or went upstairs with Drew to play. The school environment at the Transition Home was very similar to our homeschool environment, so we didn't have nearly the trouble helping her understand what needed to be accomplished that we anticipated. Her older brothers and sisters, including Katie, fell in love with her. We had only a couple of incidents of her acting out by scratching or hitting before she realized that it was not going to fly around here and she quickly gave it up. (Time outs are extremely effective with her.) Her improved behavior helped them to feel much more affectionate toward her. The big kids carried her around, talked to her, and tried to learn Amharic while teaching her English words. DJ announced after about a week that he was "glad we got her because she is funny!" And funny, she is. Little Sister LOVES to laugh, and laugh hard. She relaxed her death grip on her backpack full of possesions little by little, and soon she was sharing with her siblings...realizing that they would, in fact, give them back.
Trust.
She began to attach to Mommy and Daddy remarkably well, running to me to kiss boo-boo's or tattle when Gracie or Drew did something that she deemed offensive. She looked for smiles of approval when she did something new or learned a new word, and soaked up our hugs and kisses like a sponge. I cannot stress enough how much she needed physical touch. When she was sleepy, she had a hard time settling down and crossing the threshold of sleep so I would swaddle her like a baby and rock her. I kid you not, it would take less than 30 seconds for her eyes to roll back in her head and she would be out...I mean OUT. Sometimes I would cradle her like a baby and hold her sippy cup like a bottle. She ate it up. I was thankful to have read lots of Karyn Purvis books and knew to allow her to be a baby at three. It did not take long for her to pass through that phase.
At the end of the second week, she began to recognize her new name. We were addressing her by her new American name combined with her Ethiopian name. Occasionally we would use just her American name to see if she would answer. Sometimes she did, sometimes she didn't. But all of a sudden, she got it, and began to correct me if I only used her Ethiopian name. I was very surprised for her to make that connection so quickly.
We celebrated her first Thanksgiving home and, though she was skeptical about the most of the food we laid out, she scarfed down turkey and sweet potatoes! I had learned that if I could name the food in Amharic, she would at least try it. My Lonely Planet Amharic book has been priceless! Family came and went, and another foundation of trust was laid as she realized that, once again, she stayed with us. After Thanksgiving we put up the Christmas tree and oh the excitement! She kept exclaiming "Chrissa-mess! Chrissa-mess!" and marveling at the lights and decorations. She stayed up until after 10:00 and started to wilt out of pure exhaustion. In our desire to get the decorations up and the mess put away, we decided to see if she would lie down in her bed...the one in the room she was sharing with Gracie...just until we got the boxes put away and then we would bring her down with us. Up until now there was NO WAY she would go to sleep unless I was in the room. I got out my Simple Amharic for Adoptive Families book (which, by the way, has been worth it's weight in GOLD) and told her that I was here, I would not leave, and it was time to lie quietly in her bed. I then had a lightbulb moment. I pointed at the painting on the wall above her bed and said "That says Mari. That is YOU." Her eyes lit up as she made the connection. Now that she knew her new name, she finally understood that the name on the wall was HERS! Her face lit up and she pointed to her name, then Gracie's which was over her bed and said their names. She got it. This is her bed, not just a bed for her to use...but her bed that she owns. She went to sleep and woke up, in her own bed, eleven hours later...
and has done that every night since.

Since that major milestone was reached, it is like she has always been here. She fits in so perfectly. She still has moments of fear, but they are becoming fewer and fewer. Tantrums are no longer a daily occurrence. She and I have the most funny conversations...she speaks to me in Amharic, I answer her in English, and somehow we are communicating. It has to be a God-thing. She learns new words and phrases every day, and we have learned so much from her. She loves to hear us talk about Ethiopia, and points to herself proudly saying "Mari Ethiopia!" She tells me that she saw Zebras in Ethiopia, and looks at her lifebook full of photos over and over again, naming everything and everyone in every single picture. Her bussa (backpack ) is her most treasured possession and goes with her everywhere. She sings to herself almost daily, the sweetest African songs that I will miss when she one day forgets them. Thank God for modern recording devices.
She loves baths, but hates shampoo. When the tub is full she swims like a fish, coming up sputtering and laughing and waving her arms in delight. Watching her bathe is nothing less than glorious! In my mind I imagine her in a river in Ethiopia, dancing in the water with the sunlight glistening on her wet body, enjoying the simple thrill of being naked as a jaybird and free. Joy just emanates from her body.

She came home with a stowaway of sorts...giardia...a common parasite found in the water in Africa. A week of antibiotics took care of that and we have noticed her tummy no longer looks so swollen. She gained 2 1/2 pounds in less than two weeks and now, when I hold her, her little bottom is not so bony but has a bit of plump to it. She sings "kee-leen up, every bodee, every where" when she puts away her toys. She says "Mommy, com-ee" when she wants to show me something. The Amharic word for going pee, which is "shint" has been a source of MUCH laughter around here as her siblings (and, truth be told, even her daddy!) have adopted that word with great delight! Just imagine..."I need to go shint. " "I need to take a shint." "MOM the dogs are going shint outside!"
Yes, it is just delightful...ahem.
Potty requests in public always result in stares from strangers and giggles from my kids.

The sweetest thing of all, though, are the times that she has walked up to me and said "Eh weh de shah loh."

Those are my favorite Amharic words of all.

She is saying "I love you."

Oh sweet girl, I love you too. More than I ever dreamed. You delight my heart, and have brought such joy to our family. You are, indeed, a perfect fit and I will never, ever get over the thrill of watching you learn and grow and thrive. Eh weh de shal loh, precious one. Forever and always.

Coming soon...

2010-12-09T21:20:00.000-08:00

I wish I could convey to you the transformation I have seen in my daughter in three short weeks. We are coming up on her 4 weeks home-a-versary and I am going to do my best to do it justice this weekend!

But here is a teaser. She knows her name.

Her new name.

And if I ever forget and address her with her Ethiopian name, which we kept has her middle name, she corrects me.

She says her new name...first, middle, and last.

Then she smiles at me with eyes shining with joy and says what every orphaned child longs to say...

"Family!"

Every orphan longs to have a mother's neck to hug.

Every orphan longs to have a daddy's whiskers to rub.

Every orphan deserves what my daughter now has...

and I want to encourage you to take those first steps, for their sake.

You will never be the same.

Ethiopia Trip 2...Our Last Day

2010-11-29T21:38:00.000-08:00

Friday morning began with a bang.

If that's what you want to call it.

All seemed to be going well. We were busy getting ready for the day and Mari seemed to be in good spirits. Katie was being playful with her and I was packing snacks, etc. in the backpack for our trip to Entoto mountain. All of a sudden I heard a scream from Katie and, with a look of utter betrayal she cried, “She BIT me!”

She held out her arm there were 4 welts popping up. I will admit it. I was so angry. I got down on eye level with Mari and said in NO uncertain terms... “We do NOT bite.” I said it in Amharic and I firmly held her wrists, but all she did was laugh. It just made me more mad. I was afraid I would lose it. I have compassion and I love this child, but she will NOT harm my other children. She has to get that, and get it NOW. So I told her in Amharic to say she was sorry. She planted her feet and looked at me and laughed again.

What she doesn't realize is she is child #5.

And her mama has a stubborn streak wider than the Mississippi River.

I tried putting her in the corner. I tried showing her how she hurt Katie. I tried ignoring her to make her realize she would not get attention for acting that way. She just laughed.

I wracked my brain to remember what Karyn Purvis would do...what the myriad of attachment books and website I have read would suggest.

So I pulled her into my lap, confined her, and said again “I'm sorry bay.” (“say I'm sorry)

She turned her head away from me and began pulling at my hands to escape.

I held her firmly and told her that she would not get up until she said she was sorry. She fought like a wildcat, screaming and thrashing and gagging. Katie was distressed...fearing Mari would think I didn't like her any more. I assured her that Mari has to understand boundaries and that as soon as she submits she will see that she is free and gets lots of love. The battle raged for 45 minutes and I began to fear we would be there all day. As she screamed I reassured her that I love her, kissed her cheeks, and calmly repeated the command to apologize. She was ticked off and it was clear that she was unable to believe that what had worked for her up to this point was no longer effective. But suddenly, she stopped. I saw her take a breath and I said, once again...

“I'm sorry bay.”

She opened her mouth and in a tiny voice said the magic words... “I'm sorry.”

I screamed in happiness and kissed her all over. “Gobez!!” I shouted and squeezed her little body in a great big hug. She grinned from ear-to-ear and was back to her smiley self.

Like nothing had just happened.

Wow, it worked better than I had hoped.

So we went down to rush through breakfast then went with friends to Entoto mountain with David at the wheel...which would guarantee an exciting drive. Katie got to see the beauty of Ethiopia from over 10,000 feet up and more poverty, more suffering, more need. We took lots of pictures then went back down to Addis because word had come through Job that our Embassy papers were ready.

Hallelujah!

On the way down we stopped to shop a little more. I bought the girls dresses and a purse for Katie. As we walked a beggar came up to me. He was bent over and leaning on crutches. He held out a wrinkled hand and I gave him 10 birr. He bowed low and smiled then spoke in Amharic. Job told me he said “May God bless you and give you health and a long life.” He seemed truly grateful. My heart broke because 10 birr is less that 75 cents in the US.

They are just so very poor. We have it so good.

We arrived at the Guest House and there was T with a passport and manila envelope in his hand!

“I guess you want these, right?”

Um, YEAH! He reminded me to not open the envelope and to hand-carry it to DC. He said to give it to the first Customs officer I see in the states. I took the precious cargo and realized this was IT. Paperwork and superhuman logistical feats were coming to an end! I stowed them carefully in my laptop bag, then we went with the other families back to the Transition Home to give Mari one last chance to see her friends and say goodbye. Katie was happy to play with the kids again, and I was thrilled to see Y, a boy who we had met on our first trip. He was walking with J and I gave them both big hugs. Precious. Just precious. I have GOT to get these boys home. They are just too much of a treasure to be sitting there waiting. When we finally said our last goodbyes, Katie started to cry. She didn't want to leave the older kids. I felt like crying, too. I looked at Mari as she cheerfully waved goodbye to her home for the past 8 months. I knew that she had no idea of the permanency of the change that was happening. I wondered when we would be back to see those gates open again.

The next few hours were peaceful as I packed. I loved how, despite the hurtful morning, Katie reached out to her little sister. She tickled her and played and had her cracking up with giggles. We met David downstairs to leave at 6:30 and set out for the airport.

For HOME.

Now let me tell you a little something:

Getting through security in Bole National Airport is a nightmare.

Getting through security with a sleeping toddler in a sling, a tired 9 year old, 3 suitcases, 2 backpacks and a computer bag is...well I will refrain from typing the word.

It was just plain H-E-double hockey sticks.

But we did it. And Katie was a CHAMPION when the pressure was on. Have I mentioned that I am proud of her? We sat down, exhausted once again, in the waiting area with other adoptive families and Mari slept away. It was after 8 pm so it was bedtime for her. There was no waking her up, she was OUT.

FINALLY the boarding call came at 9:30. We made our way to our seats and sat down, relieved. We watched as other adoptive families did the same...some with babies, some with toddlers, one with an 11 year old boy who was so obviously excited that I had tears running down my cheeks as I watched him. There were at least 15 children, formerly orphans, who were going home on this flight. Praise God.

As the plane took off I watched Addis Ababa disappear from view with tears in my eyes. Mari was leaving the only country she has ever known. My heart was filled with a strange mix of emotions. But finally fatigue took over and I dozed off.

Mari slept like a ROCK. She slept the 6 hours to Rome, the one hour stop to refuel, and another hour after that! Katie did the same, and I slept as much as I could with 2 girls leaning against me and a seat that did not recline nearly enough to be comfortable. After they woke up we ate and Mari played a bit. She liked standing in her seat and looking at the people behind us. She played with her toys in her backpack and enjoyed walking down the aisle to go to the bathroom. After about 2 hours I could see boredom was becoming a threat, so I decided to take a chance and give her a dose of Benadryl.

Yeah yeah, I know. But I'm sure she is allergic to something!

Much to my relief, after about 20 minutes she started looking drowsy. Before I knew it, she was asleep again! She slept for 4 hours! She awakened in time for the last meal, and then it was time to buckle up so we could LAND! I pulled her seat belt across her and she pushed it away.

Uh oh.

She had slept through the first two takeoffs and first landing, so she did not remember having on a seat belt. All she knew was that she was being confined and she does NOT like that feeling one little bit.

Guess what was next?

Yep.

45 minutes of screaming, thrashing, kicking, and gagging. The Ethiopian flight attendants tried to talk to her, she tried to scratch them. They offered her an apple, she didn't want it. (so Katie ate it!) They even threatened to call the police! (HUH? Seriously? Do they think she CARES?) Then they told me I could take it off of her until just before landing, but I knew that was in no way the right thing to do.

“We have two more flights until we get home. She has to wear a seat belt. She has to learn. If I take it off she will think she can scream and win, so I have to make her wear it.”

They understood but I could tell that was not the course of action they would have chosen. Thankfully I had missionaries sitting near me who later told me they were praying. I could not thank them enough.

Less than ten minutes before landing the screaming stopped. I praised her and she smiled. Ahhh, she is no dummy. We touched ground and I took off her seat belt when we pulled up to the gate. We got off the plane and I looked at my little girl who suddenly had become and American citizen.

One small step for man, one giant leap for an African orphan girl.

We went through Customs and Immigration, thankful to have a chatty officer who kept Katie entertained with crazy stories of punching out Pit Bulls while he stamped passports and paperwork, then we picked up our baggage, checked in at Delta, then went straight to Five Guys Burgers for American food.

It was only 10am, but those burgers tasted like manna I tell you!

We then boarded our next flight and I apologized to the lady in front of me in advance because I figured we would have a battle royale when seat belt time came, but I was wrong! She put that thing on and smiled at me like “see what I just did?” Katie and I both could not believe it. She was so proud of her little stinker self! 2 more flights, and not one tear about seat belts. I was utterly and completely shocked!

Finally, after 26 hours of travel through 9 time zones and over 13,000 miles, we landed in our home state. We stepped off the plane, went through the gate, and walked across the carpet to the scene I had dreamed about so many times.

And there they were.

I was weeping as soon as I saw the crowd. Mari, who had been fussy in her exhausted state, looked at me in surprise to see the tears on my cheeks. Katie was practically skipping because she was so excited. I was gasping for breath as my emotions crept up and took hold of my body. They were cheering, kids were jumping up and down, and Mari...

she was beaming.

We fell into the arms of our family and friends. I wept like a baby as all the stress and emotion finally let loose, and I handed Mari to her Daddy. She looked at him in awe. She reached up with her tiny hands and held his cheeks, and he enfolded her in the sweetest of bear hugs much to her joy. There was not a dry eye in the house.

It was truly a glimpse of Heaven.

Mari had a friend from Ethiopia there to greet her as well. He is 5 and, when he came up to hug her, he said to her in Amharic, “You are going to be OK.”

We rejoiced together and then had a little surprise when Michael W. Smith walked up. He saw the goings-on and stopped for a moment to watch. I did not see him, but a friend did. So he followed him and said “I understand if you are tired and you can totally say no to this, but I want to you know what is going on up there.”

So because of the graciousness of this man who had just flown in from Europe and had to be as tired as we were, our first picture as a family of 7 has Michael W. Smith smack dab in the middle of it! He was so nice, so friendly, and I just loved how we got to share this moment with someone who also has a heart for Orphans and has a platform on which to share it.

Then (You would think we were going home by now, right?”) we headed back up to the lobby to greet that sweet 11 year old boy that was on the flight to DC with us! He had talked with Mari on the plane and shuttle in DC and was so helpful with her. His family lives about 20 minutes from us and I just had to see his sweet face coming home. It was so worth it. He had tears of joy in his eyes and he recognized us, which was precious. I hugged him hard and said “You are HOME!” He just nodded and smiled with those big tears pooling. . And now here they are, 2 Ethiopian children living in the same community with their new families. God is so good.

And now we are home. Mari is home.

She is adjusting, processing, and figuring out just what is going on. She has moments of fear and panic, but seems to be bonding with us quickly. The kids are wonderful with her. She responds well to them all and likes to laugh when they laugh. She loves to cuddle and is getting lots of it as we try to help her feel loved and secure. God is working. She is learning. And I will be so thrilled when she can speak enough English to tell us what she has been thinking.

I am just so very glad to be home. Having all five of my babies in the same room at last is the most wonderful feeling in the world. I pray I will never again take it for granted. I am so very, unbelievably blessed.

2010-11-28T17:56:00.000-08:00

Ethiopia Trip #2 Day 3

We all slept through the night. Can I even find the words to express what a huge blessing that is? I dove into the Word after all was quiet, prayed until I could pray no more, and finally I fell asleep with my Bible on my chest. When I awakened at 6:30 I was in much better spirits. I dressed, got the girls ready for the day, and went downstairs for breakfast. We chatted with other families while we ate and then headed out with David, Job, and T for the AWAA Transition Home. I had a meeting with the pediatrician and social worker and Katie really wanted to spend more time with the kids so we planned to spend as much time as possible there. I asked Job to explain to Mari that we were just visiting her friends, and she nodded in understanding. I was concerned that she would think I was taking her back. Earlier in the morning she had become very agitated and I finally realize she was muttering the name of our State over and over. I can only guess that she can't figure out why we have not gone home yet.

On the way to the TH she fell asleep, so when we arrived she did not see the excited faces of her friends or hear them all calling out “Mari!” like she was a rock star. It was so sweet. I carried her up to the front porch and sat on the sofa while waiting for her to wake up. On my way to the porch I kissed a dozen beautiful faces and caressed a dozen more sweet heads. I got hugs from every direction and beautiful smiles flashed at me just for being there. I gave a zillion hugs and watched as Katie took it all in. This was reality. Every single one of these children are orphans who wait. Her sweet heart was growing again.

Eventually Mari woke up and we spent time playing on the playground, hanging out with the other kids, and I met with the professionals who wanted to give me whatever information they could before we left Ethiopia. The doctor gave me some antibiotics and eye drops because she had some respiratory junk going on and had woken up with her eye matted shut this morning. I told them honestly that yesterday had been a hard one, but today seemed to be better. She seems to be “getting it” and learning to obey me. Thank God. The nurses had a FIT over Katie. They all thought she was Ethiopian, of course, and just praised her for her beauty. She ate it up. One held her arm up to Katie's and showed her that their skin is exactly the same color. She also said that Katie looks like her, but is more beautiful. I loved watching them fawn over her like that.

We spent time talking with the kids over age 10 who had just finished school and were heading back to their Transition Home. Katie soon was begging me to bring J and his sisters home too. I reminded her of the fact that we have all we can handle in Little Sister right now! I felt so relieved to see her making an effort with Mari again. Tickling her, chasing her, and laughing with her which resulted in Mari repeatedly asking for Katie whenever she was out of sight. WHAT a relief. After we returned to the Guest House we tried to Skype but could not get more than three minutes of broken conversation. My mother-in-law reminded me of something that I knew after I told her how hard yesterday had been on Katie and me: that there is “someone” responsible who wants this to be hard. And she is exactly right. I will say that today was SO much better, though. The incidents of scratching and hitting were fewer and she seemed to want to obey at times which made me very happy. I also noticed that her man-sized appetite was gone. She barely touched food all day. I then witnessed the mother of all tantrums in our room at the Guest House. I still am not sure what caused it: She just fell to the floor and started screaming. Any attempt by me to console her just made her more angry and scream louder. I calmly sat on the bed and she calmed down after almost 30 minutes. She started asking for Katie. Katie was downstairs preparing to eat dinner and I had left her down there since I was just running to my room to grab a cup for Mari. By the time we came down she had eaten and was wondering where in the world I had been. I couldn't believe they had not been able to hear that tantrum! One of the ladies who work at the front desk tried to get her to tell what had made her upset but she refused. I though maybe her tummy was hurting so I allowed her to have Sprite, which brought back her smile. But she didn't touch her dinner, then started crying and told me she needed to go to the bathroom. Apparently her tummy had been hurting.

She was very calm after that. We went up to our room and Katie climbed into bed, exhausted, while I got Mari ready for bed. I tried a different approach to bedtime. Instead of announcing it I suggested...matah, matah? (night-night?) She started to shake her head, but stopped. She then looked at me with happy eyes, gathered her things around her, and smiled.

“Matah matah, Mommy. Ciao.”

Ciao?

It made me chuckle.

“Ciao?” I laughed. “I'm not going anywhere...just night-night.”

She smiled and got out a toy. I watched from across the room as Princess Tiana gave the teddy bear a kiss and Mari just chattered away to them in Amharic. She then began to sing...oh my heart. I listened quietly while turning on my computer, and before I knew it she was quiet.

And asleep.

Praise God.

I checked the internet connection and saw nothing but a big ol' X where the green bars should be, again. ARGH. I was missing my babies at home SO much and Katie really needed a dose of sibling silliness to curb her homesickness. I clicked on the Skype button out of habit and realized that my home computer # was lit up. How can that be possible with no connection? I clicked on the “call home” and was SHOCKED to hear DJ answer, loud and clear. I ended up getting to talk with them for nearly 30 minutes...with NO internet connection! Yes, I believe that was a miracle. God KNEW my heart and my limits and he KNEW I needed to see a sign from Him after the last couple of days. And in His mercy he sweetly gave me that very small, yet oh so significant gift of a miraculous internet connection that did not exist without His intervention.

Just to be sure, after the kids had all talked to Mommy and I had been able to say I love you and miss you to them all while listening to them play and giggle with each other as they played computer games. I tested my theory by attempting to log on to the internet. Nothing. Not even a blip.

Yet I had been able to Skype.

You will never convince me that it was anything less than the work of God.

So here I am on my last night in Ethiopia. I have watched my daughter see the world through new eyes and experience TRUE boredom. (I don't think I will have many more complaints of that in the near future!) I have seen her notice the lame, the poor, and the suffering for the first time. I have watched her heart soften when the face of an orphan boy lights up because she smiled at him. I have seen the shock on her face as we walked into a room with 20 babies propped up with their bottles as the nannies constantly work to keep the bottles upright and reposition those who crawl away so they can finish theirs. I have laughed with her while 6 children all try to peer into her mouth at the same time to figure out what those metal things with blue bands are on her teeth. And I have cried with her as she realized that her little sister comes to us wounded. What a rollercoaster of emotions she has experienced this week. I am so proud of her. I am so VERY proud of her.

Tomorrow we are going up to Entoto mountain to see the beauty of Ethiopia from up high. We will receive Mari's passport and visa, and then we will begin the long journey home with a little girl, once orphaned, to unite her with her forever family...our family. Her life-change has just begun. She can't possibly imagine what awaits her in America. I pray with all of my heart that it is a journey that will draw her heart to Jesus, knit our family closer together, and bring glory to the Father to the fatherless who, once again, has shown Himself faithful. I pray all of my children will love each other fiercely. And I pray that every one of those precious children that we have had the privilege of loving this week will soon be home, with THEIR forever families, where they belong.

Day 2...Embassy

2010-11-22T11:41:00.000-08:00

I hesitated to share this entry. Day two was a very tough day. I was afraid it might discourage others from stepping out and adopting, but after reading this I realized I need to follow her advice and share the hard parts because this is real life. Adoption is wonderful, but like anything else God calls us to, it has it's hard, gut-wrenching moments...moments of doubt and fear and struggle. If it didn't, God would not need to be part of it. So here is day 2 in all its...um, glory. I hope this helps you to be prepared for the hard times as well...because I can now tell you they are just a temporary struggle. God has already brought Mari so far. Maybe that is why I can post this, because I know so much more now than I knew then. So be encouraged, friends. God is in the transformation business!

Ethiopia Trip 2 Day #2

Last night was not exactly restful. Katie, who was sleeping off the nausea, awakened at 10:30 after having slept 8 ½ hours. No big deal. She knew I was sleeping and just lay there waiting and hoping to fall asleep again. Mari, on the other hand...

She had become very restless in her sleep. Since I did not know if she stayed dry through the night I decided to take her to the bathroom in case that was the reason for her squirminess. I then put her back in bed with me, but she had had what SHE considered a nap and was ready to par-tay. I, on the other hand, was going on my 4^th hour of sleep in 48 hours and had not one shred of energy left. Not one. I tried everything to get her to lay back down but she refused. She started the scratching again and I am ashamed to admit I felt completely frustrated. I would rather she just CRY. I said to her firmly, with her hands enclosed in mine, “Do not scratch me, Mari. Do not scratch me” in Amharic. She looked at me with surprise, and stopped. She then started to whine and jump up and down and point and I could not for the life of me figure out what she wanted. Finally I grabbed the right thing...the Fisher Price iXL that I had brought to keep her entertained. Fine, I thought. If it will make her be quiet so I can sleep she can play with it.

She played with it for over 2 hours. I awakened at 4:30am to find her asleep with it next to her head. Thank God. Katie had also dozed off again, but awakened after totaling 11 hours of sleep. Her tummy was queasy again so I gave her a dose of medicine which, thankfully, did the trick. But jet lag had taken its toll and we were both wide awake, knowing we would regret it later.

Mari awakened around 6 and was in good spirits. Katie happily picked out her outfit and we dressed her together. I was glad to see Katie enjoying her. We ate breakfast downstairs then met Job at 8:30 for the Embassy appointment. Hallelujah, let's get this thing over with!

We went through security and arrived to a packed waiting area. Oh dear. We sat in the only 2 empty seats, with Mari in my lap, and began the wait. She did fine for a long time, and I was very happy with her ability to sit still and just be calm. After nearly an hour of it, though, she began trying to climb over my shoulders and invade the personal space of everyone within a ten foot radius. When I asked her to sit down by me, the scratching began again. Sigh. I again firmly told her not to do that, and she listened after about the third time. At one point, she was sitting in a chair that had vacated next to me so Katie asked to sit in my lap. Immediately Mari began trying to push her off and get in my lap. THIS was a battle I was going to win. I showed her that I have room for both of them, and she is NOT going to make Katie move. She did not like it one bit. Finally she gave up and shared my lap, and I prayed this would not be a major battle when we get home.

We got called to window #15 after 1 hour and 15 minutes of waiting and I was so very thankful that we were being interviewed by the only American that I had seen in the entire compound. He asked me the expected questions, exhanged paperwork, and that was that. We left, relieved to have this last paperwork and government hurdle over with. I was officially ready to get home to the rest of my babies...homesickness was setting in.

We decided to kill time by sightseeing, so we went to the Museum at the University of Addis where we saw all kinds of Ethiopian artifacts. At one point we went up a flight of stairs and there was a genuine stuffed lion...poised for attack. Mari nearly did somersaults to get away when she saw it. I felt so sorry for her. I had noticed that in a book I read yesterday, when she saw a picture of a lion she had covered it with her hands and mumbled as if to say “I don't like this.” I could only assume that they were a real threat in her native region. I quickly took her into a different room to wait for the group to move on. Later in the tour, we were shown a replica of a mud hut with a grass roof. She LIT UP with excitement, pointing and smiling and showing absolute joy at the familiarity of that little house. This type of dwelling was her home for three years. She obviously remembers it, and remembers it with fondness. Another reminder that she is being taken from everything familiar. How is she going to handle so much change?

The next item on the agenda was to take Katie to the Lucy Restaurant for a taste of authentic Ethiopian food. We ordered roasted lamb with injera. She liked it, but her stomach was still not 100 percent so she only ate a small amount. Mari, on the other hand, ate two platefuls of her own and part of mine. Where she put all that food in her tiny body is beyond me! It was amazing. After lunch we did a little shopping where Katie picked out a couple of souvenirs and I bought Mari a brightly colored cloth soccer ball that had caught her eye. Then we went to the coffee factory where I could finally purchase some of those delicious beans to take home. Oh the smell! We stuck around the lounge and enjoyed a macchiato, which Katie was thrilled to be allowed to try, and Mari was wild. I mean WILD. I could not drink my coffee fast enough to get her out of there. She went up to a total stranger, grabbed his coffee spoon, and stuck it in her mouth before I was even completely out of my chair. The she bolted and ran full speed OUT THE FRONT DOOR. Where there was a street. And cars. Oh no. I caught up with her, thankfully, because she was distracted by a group of 20-somethings chatting just outside the door at the only table on the sidewalk. She was laughing hysterically when I caught her. I took her back inside, paid for our coffee, and we went back to the Guest House where, over the course of the next 2 days she would make at least 6 more escape attempts. Thank God for the security guard. Sigh.

We went up to our room and Katie looked at me with big, scared eyes, and burst into tears. She wants her Daddy. She wants to go home. She misses her siblings at home. I pried a little deeper because I knew in my heart where this was coming from...and I was right.

Mari is not fun. Not yet. She is out of control, willful, and can be downright mean. Katie was realizing that the “hard days coming” that we had tried to prepare them all for are, indeed, hard. This was hard. Katie doesn't really like her right now, and I don't blame her. She is manipulative and I am trying to figure out the best way to handle her...how much discipline I need to enforce without jeopardizing the attachment process. It is hard. No other way to say it.

Oh, what a heyday the enemy was having.

We talked it through and I assured her that we can trust God. I promised that my love for her cannot and will not change. I told her that, even though it doesn't feel like it right now, Mari is the answer to her prayers, but God's answers sometimes require work and sacrifice from us. This is TOUGH to explain to anyone, but especially a child. We talked about what Mari has been through, the grief process she is walking through, and how she will get better and learn to behave. As I spoke, I was certainly speaking to my own doubts and fears which were surfacing and threatening me. All this time, Mari was playing quietly on her own, being a complete angel.

This is hard.

We went downstairs to the courtyard and Katie kicked a soccer ball around with a 7 yr old boy who was here with his parents. His mom and I began talking and she soon shared that they were adopting a 2 ½ yr old girl who apparently wasn't overly excited about her new mom or brother. Misery loves company, so I just admit that her confession of uncertainty made me feel better. The doubts are normal. I am not the only one. I watched, so very proud of my big girl, as she gave Mari a chance to play and very obviously tried to build a bridge. It was beautiful to watch her choose that path despite her emotions, and it appeared to pay off. We went inside for dinner and, once again, Mari ate enough to fill a grown man, then settled on the couch to chat with another family. By this time it was approaching 8 o'clock, and Mari was falling asleep against my shoulder. I carried her upstairs, took her to the potty, put on pj's, and laid her in bed.

And she popped right up.

Oh for crying out loud.

She was into everything and I tried lying next to her to settle her down, she only started picking at my face and ears. I tucked her in tight and she climbed out of bed. I tried to tell her in Amharic that she needed to lay down and go night-night, and she slapped me. I grabbed her hands and firmly said “no”...she tried to scratch my hands and I told her “do not scratch me” in Amharic. She then decided she was angry with me and wanted nothing to do with me, so she just sat up in the bed stubbornly for several minutes while I tried to reassure her that she is loved and it is time to lay her head on her pillow. She acted like I didn't exist. She tried to get out of bed again and I finally just picked her up and paced the room with her. She was so tired by now that she stopped fighting, lay her head on my shoulder, and went to sleep.

Thank God.

I paced the room some more, pouring my heart out to God in a good old-fashioned pity party.

It was a big one.

He patiently listened while I complained and worried and whined. He sweetly reminded me that I have to remember where she is from. I told him I was afraid for the hearts and minds of my first four children who were all either missing mommy or missing daddy because mommy had taken her to Africa. I told him I was afraid this was going to be a big fat failure and that it would strain my marriage and my relationships with all of my children. He rocked me as I rocked her. He whispered to my heart that I can fight some battles later, but that I need to trust Him as this is His doing.

I know, I know. What a switch from yesterday.

Once I was SURE she was asleep I laid her down in the bed, tucked her teddy bear in next to her, and kissed my sweet Katie who had fallen asleep during all this.

Lord, it is done. She is here. And I am weak. Protect my children from the enemy's lies. Help them love this child who, right now, seems unlovely. Create in her a clean heart and remove the violent defenses that she resorts to when she is upset. And give me eyes to see into her heart...your eyes. Let me love her well, help my husband as a father to give her the stability and balance that she needs. Heal her wounded heart. Renew her spirit.

And, Lord, let this all be for your glory...that we will raise up a generation that would have been lost, but instead has been found. I pray for all of us, who anticipate the coming weeks and months with mixed emotions, to rise up in joy and be lead forth in peace. Bind our hearts together, Lord, despite my mistakes and weaknesses. Knit us so closely that we cannot imagine life without her. Keep the enemy and his lies away...place a hedge of angels around us as we journey home and help her settle into her new life. We can't do this without you.

And now, without further adieu...

2010-11-21T21:22:00.000-08:00

I will be posting my journal from each day of our week in Ethiopia this week. I pray reading these entries will bless and encourage you on your journey, wherever you are!

Ethiopia Trip #2

Day 1-Tuesday

After 24 hours of travel, we made it to Africa!

Katie and I arrived here in Addis this morning at 8:30 am. To say we were tired is an understatement. We were exhausted. Katie did not even sleep 30 minutes during the flight because she was so beyond excited. She was glued to the window whenever the sun was up, and practically dancing in her seat when the sun was down. I even tried a dose of Benadryl, to no avail!

Upon landing at Bole International Airport, the crew immediately turned off all the air. Within minutes it got HOT on that plane. Fatigue, altitude, and heat are not a good combination and they sent poor Katie diving for the nearest barf bag as we exited the plane. I felt awful for her.

We went through customs, got our visas, exchanged money, and got our luggage then headed out to be greeted by Job's smiling face. What a welcome! It is amazing how different I felt this time. The familiarity was so comforting, and his easy smile and enthusiastic hug were well-timed for both me and Katie. She was thrilled to meet one of “the guys” she had heard so much about and he, in turn, made her feel very important to be in AFRICA. We chuckled about the workers who all mistake her for an Ethiopian and begin speaking to her in Amharic. It is hilarious. She gets this funny blank look on her face and they soon realize their words are falling on American ears and switch to English. But she loves it. She loves that she looks African.

We were driven to the Yebsabi Guest House and given a room on the 3^rd floor with three twin beds all in a row. We quickly unpacked and organized because our first order of business was going to be to get Little Sister and begin life with her! Katie could hardly wait. We made the bumpy drive to the Transition Home, much to her delight, and her face lit up brighter than sunshine when that familiar blue America World sign came into view. I handed Job my camera and camcorder, then waited in the drive as he went to find Mari.

Just a few minutes later he rounded the corner, smiling. I blinked and there she was, grinning from ear to ear. I squatted down and held out my arms and she ran FULL SPEED into them and gave me the biggest hug her little body could dish out! Katie was squealing with delight, exclaiming “Oh my gosh, Mom, she is SO CUTE! Oh she is so TINY, just like you said!” The girls began examining each other, Mari quickly realizing that Katie was the girl in her pictures and deciding instantly that she liked her. Katie had her giggling and soon was carting her around on her hip. What joy, what a fulfillment for my daughter who has prayed her heart out since she was 7 years old and now here she was face-to-face with the fruit of all that prayer.

Job ushered Katie into the schoolroom so she could be greeted by the children, and they did it beautifully. They sang for her and their sweet faces were beaming with smiles. I could tell she was overwhelmed and just trying to take it all in. The reality of life here, of the poverty and need, was eye-opening. I felt like I was watching her heart grow before my eyes.

We spent a little time with the children while they had a very short break from their schoolwork, and I gave the older ones journals in which they could write, draw, or whatever. They were very happy about them. One special boy, who had stolen my heart on the last trip, I gave the book “Because of Winn-Dixie”. He was thrilled. It was so nice to do something special for them, as they are often the recipients of candy but I thought they needed to be blessed with something on their age level, something meaningful. I pray those journals are windows into their hearts for the parents whom I KNOW God is preparing to come for these children.

Mari's nanny came to say goodbye, and I was blessed to have the chance to thank her for taking such good care of her. Her eyes filled with tears as she whispered last words to her, and I choked back a lump in my throat as she walked away. We got into the van...all of us...and Mari's eyes were filled with excitement. We drove across town to the Makush Italian Restaurant and she was nearly asleep when we pulled up to the curb. I hoped I wasn't making a mistake by taking her out during naptime!

We sat at a table with 4 other families who are here this week for court. What fun to hear their stories! They were all fascinated with Mari, of course, and she seemed to not be phased by the attention. She and Katie split an order of lasagna and, upon taking the first bite, she declared it “yummy” and proceeded to chow down. She also drank enough water to fill a bathtub! We then went back to the Guest House and I began to grow concerned about Katie because she was obviously not feeling well again. Now she was going on 24 hours without sleep and her body was letting her know that she had to stop. We went up to our room just in time for her to...well, she got sick again. She burst into tears, wanting her Daddy, and I just wanted to bawl. Here we were, in Africa, her dream come true, and she was miserable. I decided that the enemy needed to be reminded just exactly Whose we are so I got down on my knees and did just that. I prayed with tears running down my cheeks, laying hands on my daughter and beseeching the Lord to put a stop to the sickness so she could see all that He has for her this week. As I prayed, Mari quietly crept up beside me and laid her little hand on her sister's leg. She reached up and wiped the tears from my eyes and smiled, and I knew in that moment that the Lord was, indeed at work.

It was 2:00 in the afternoon and Katie fell asleep. She slept for 2 hours while Mari and I went downstairs to do our Embassy paperwork with Duni. We skyped Daddy and I loved watching her try to figure out exactly where he was! Job, upon finding out Katie was ill, sweetly ran to a drugstore to get some anti-nausea medication. Bless him. Then we went back up to the room to check on Katie. I roused her out of her sleep and she said she was feeling better. She changed into her pajamas, drank a little water, took her medicine, and was back asleep within the hour. As I write this it is 8:30 pm and I have a feeling she will sleep easily until morning, praise God.

I hit the wall, myself, around 6:30. I decided it was time to give Mari a bath and try to settle her down for bed. I had NO idea how that process would play out. The Guest House has no bathtubs, only showers, and she obviously had no intention of getting in the shower. So I filled the bathroom sink with warm water and bathed her there. I undressed her for the first time and my heart hurt to see how her body still shows the signs of a child who has been chronically malnourished. Skinny arms and legs and a distended belly...I was taken aback by the reality of what she has survived. She giggled as I put “smelly good” lotion on her beautiful brown skin and slipped on her very own pink and white pj's. She LOVED the pj's...just kept looking at herself over and over and touching the fabric. We brushed her teeth and I laid her in her bed. I lay down beside her to read a book, pray, and then put on my pj's and crawled under the warm covers. Within 5 minutes I saw her gathering her teddy bear and book. She walked around to my bed, smiling, and crawled in next to me. She snuggled in close and was sacked out within a few minutes. I dozed off with her warm little body next to mine and wondered when was the last time she had done this...with her birthmother? With her nanny? About an hour later I awakened suddenly to those DARN dogs again. (Thankfully I brought my noise machine this time! I quickly plugged it in!) It took me a moment to realize where I was and who was next to me, then it hit me...she is here. She is HERE, next to me, asleep in complete peace and trust and...she is my daughter. I looked at Katie and at Mari and marveled at what God has done. My heart ached to be home with all of my children together and have a great big snuggle fest on the big couch upstairs. I thought about Drew crying on the phone earlier because he misses me, Gracie telling me she can't sleep well because I am gone, and DJ saying so sweetly that he loves me. How in the world did I ever deserve this? What have I done to be blessed with all of these precious, beautiful children? I am so unworthy, yet the Lord has done this. He has given me a husband whose heart is so tender that he willingly said yes to God's call to adopt and melts at the sight of one of our children smiling.. He has blessed me with a man that my children absolutely adore. Time with him is their greatest joy in any given day. And together we get to walk this beautiful road of adoption not once, not twice, but FIVE times.

Yes, indeed, my cup overflows.

Home

2010-11-17T18:38:00.000-08:00

It has been one week since sweet Mari's "Gotcha Day."
4 days since her homecoming.
And today I listened as she giggled from the depths of her belly with her older brothers and sisters. I watched as she ran to the door beaming with arms held wide as Daddy came home from work.
She is home.

I have so much to say. I kept a journal in Ethiopia again that I do plan on sharing. I just need some time to edit it and go over the details.

But I now have 5 kids playing around my legs as I cook, clean, etc. so I know you understand if it takes me a few days to, y'know, get it together.

Oh it is all so good.

Adoption ROCKS.

What I Want You to Know

2010-11-04T20:41:00.000-07:00

"No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him"--but God has revealed it to us by his Spirit. 1 Corinthians 2:9-10

In three days I leave for Ethiopia. My heart and spirit have been pondering the reality of that in new ways as of late. The Lord is showing Himself, once again, through this miracle called adoption. He is revealing a new facet of Himself that my heart had previously been unable to fully grasp. As I look back, I realize He has done this with every adoption we have experienced...

With DJ, I learned of the tender Father-heart of God.
With Katie, I learned of the sweet mercy of God.
With Gracie, I experienced the sheer power of God.
With Drew, I learned that God is the ultimate Giver of Gifts, beyond all we can ask or imagine.

All four adoptions brought me to my knees at some point. All four children have obviously had the Lord's hand upon their lives. I have always struggled to put into words the beauty of the bond, the perfection of a family created by the Lord. It is a love that transcends blood-ties or racial similarities, that somehow makes common the uncommon, that makes a barren woman a happy mother of children.

Praise the Lord. (Psalm 113:9)

With Little Sister, who for the sake of this blog will be given the name Mari, I have been given a glimpse into what lies in store for all of us who are followers of Jesus Christ...the redeeming love of God.

Just imagine...

A three year old little girl is waiting for us,
   just as we are waiting for the return of Jesus.
She has met us, is learning to trust us, and has been told that we have to go away "for a little while"
   but that we will return for her.

Are you seeing the parallel?

She has been broken and grieving, yet she awaits the fulfillment of the promise.
She awaits the home we have been preparing for her.
She awaits a new name, a new family, and a new future...

because she has been adopted.

Do you see? This is your story as well. This is my story! WE have been adopted into the family of God!

But wait, it gets even better...

Katie and I will board a plane and fly across continents and oceans to bring Mari home. We will greet her with open arms and "I love you's". We will present her with new clothes (Just writing that makes me breathless. Imagine the moment when we are clothed in bright white linen before the throne of God!) and bathe her from head to toe. We will escort her across those same continents and oceans, and we will land on U.S. soil...where she will suddenly be a citizen of a new country. We will carry her tenderly through the gates and step out into a crowd of family and friends...her family and friends...who have prayed her home.

Friends, if you ever get the chance to witness an airport reunion or the reveal of a newly adopted child, that is the closest you will ever come to experiencing our Heavenly homecoming on this side of the veil. Those of us who have been blessed to walk the road of adoption get to live, in a very small way, this spiritual reality.

That is why I am so passionate about adoption.
That is why my heart breaks when someone allows fear or finances to squelch the calling of God.
If God has called you to this, it is a privilege. He funds what He favors, and adoption is no exception. It is an unbelievable experience.  It is eye-opening and heart-wrenching. It is watching the broken become whole, and marveling at the thought that God could use one broken person to heal another.

Yes, there is fear. Believe me I have dealt with my share of it as we prepare to bring home a three year old who has never had boundaries. I have been on my face, praying for the Holy Spirit to speak to her heart when she is unable to understand my words. But if it was easy, there would be no need for God...nothing to bring glory to Him. He continually reminds me of the broken state I was in when He called my name. Oh how I praise Him that He did not expect me to get it together and get cleaned up before He would be willing to adopt me into His family. If He can change me, He can change anyone. If He can heal me and bring purity to a previously impure heart, then He most certainly can and will take a little girl and conform her to His image and knit her heart securely to her family.

See the parallels. Be willing. Let God use you in ways that you thought were impossible. Be the hands and feet of Jesus to the 147 million orphans who so desperately need the love of an earthly father and mother. If you have been called, start walking forward and don't look back.

And when Jesus returns, bask in the familiarity of the moment.

From the depths of my full heart,

7 days!!!

2010-10-31T09:53:00.000-07:00

Last night I dreamed that I was doing multiplication drills with Katie while flying over Italy.

Which I totally plan to do, much to her chagrin.

But I figure with 16 hours of a captive audience the girl will be a whiz by the time we land and she will thank me when her math assignments suddenly becomes a breeze!

7 days. ONE WEEK.

I am so excited!

8 days!

2010-10-30T21:23:00.000-07:00

Last night I dreamed I was going through customs with my daughters. I think I know why. I was instructed last week by our travel coordinator to say to the agent..."Here is my daughter's packet and she has an IR-3 Visa" in order to be SURE they stamp her passport correctly. It is a big deal because if they give her the wrong stamp she will not be an American citizen. But with the correct IR-3 Visa, which she gets because we met her before our court date, she will be an American citizen the second she sets foot on American soil.

That's one small step for man...or at least Little Sister. But one giant leap for mankind!

anywho...

I guess I am so afraid of forgetting to say that in all the hustle and bustle of our arrival that I am rehearsing it even in my sleep. The list of lists in my head is endless right now. Homeschooling plus adoption plus international travel is stretching my organizational skills to the max!

But it's ALL good.

8 days till liftoff. 10 days till Little Sister is in my arms forever. I have a BIG blog post cooking in my scrambled brain that I hope to hammer out in the next few days. Until then please keep us in your prayers as we prepare our hearts and home for our sweet girl.

WE GOT THE CALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2010-10-27T07:10:00.000-07:00

Kristen called this morning at 8:30 and we have an Embassy appointment on NOVEMBER 10th!!! Oh my word I can hardly breathe!!! My nine year old daughter and I will be booking flights today as soon as I can get the fragmented parts of my brain back together!

Oh praise GOD! She is coming HOME at last!!!!!!!!!!!!!

3 weeks waiting.

2010-10-25T06:43:00.000-07:00

It has been three weeks since I held my youngest daughter. Three weeks since I nuzzled her and promised I would bring her home. Every day that passes creates an ache in my heart. I want her to come home and see the brilliant gold leaves that are raining down in my back yard. I want her to feel the cool Autumn breeze on her face and marvel at the birds visiting our feeders. I want her to sit in my lap and color while we do school. I want to hear her precious African accent drifting through my kitchen as I make her lunch. I miss her.

Lord, please let that call come this week. I know you already have her homecoming day set, but this longing in my heart is almost painful. That Nov. 10 appointment would be so, so good.

Urgency

2010-10-23T21:04:00.000-07:00

So, as I have mentioned previously, I have been fine since coming home from ET. It was very hard to leave miss priss, but I have no doubt she is happy, healthy, and safe along with receiving lots of love and affection. She understands that we are coming back for her. She gets it. So I didn't fall apart or worry constantly about her. I came home expecting it to be a short window of time before I saw her again.
Ok, so consider that window shut.
My mama's heart suddenly hit urgent mode in the past couple of days. I don't know how to explain it other than to say it is TIME. We have heard nary a word from the Embassy, and the next available appointment is Nov. 10. After that is Nov. 23 and, well, that is just not ok with me.
I want the 10th. Period. So I am praying for the 10th.
Period.
Will you pray with me?
I would SO love to get a phone call this week saying we are "good to go." And if that happens you will likely hear me shouting from the rooftops in joy!

Tonight I could tell Little Sister was on the hearts of us all when my youngest son piped up from the backseat of the car and said, "Mommy, she is gonna be happy about me."

Yes, she will. I have no doubt that she will think her barely older big brother is the bomb. Because, well, he is. He is so darn cute I could just eat him up.
Which I do, right in the folds of his sweet little boy neck.

Happy sigh.

2 weeks down...

2010-10-18T20:28:00.000-07:00

? to go.

After 5 days of killer jet lag I was so happy to be able to stay up past 8pm and not wake up before 4 am. Now I am back to my usual night-owl self and faithfully hitting snooze at 5:40 so I can meet my bud, K, for our morning walks.

It has been 2 weeks since we passed court and Little Sister officially became our daughter.
2 weeks since I held her.
2 weeks since I smooched her soft cheeks and ran my hands over her braids.

I was prepared to miss her. And oh, do I ever. But I was not prepared to miss Ethiopia.

But, man, do I ever.

I miss the sounds and smells that wafted through my window in the Guest House.
I miss the African accents all around me, and the slower pace of life.
I miss the children who surrounded me with up-turned lips, waiting for their kiss.
And I miss the feeling of my world being so very, very big.

I am still processing all that I saw in Addis. I don't know if I will ever fully grasp what happened in my heart over there. This is so much bigger than I am. This is more than "bringing a child home" and providing a family to an orphan. God is weaving something more beautiful than I ever imagined as we walk through each step to bring LS home.

I find myself unable to find the words to describe just what it is like in Africa. The children there wait, hoping and praying for a family. The older ones especially broke my heart. Not because they are pitiful or sad, but just the opposite. They have a faith and peace about them that I have never seen in children that age. They trust God completely as they wait for Him to provide a family for them. Day by day ticks by. Day by day their lives move on. Day by day their prayers rise and their hope holds fast. My children, who have so much, can't comprehend what the children of Africa live through each and every day. I am so thrilled that my oldest daughter will go with me to bring LS home, but I truly wish we were all going.

We will. I know we will. And I pray it will be sooner rather than later.

So until homecoming day arrives, we wait and pray. God is teaching me so much through all of this. I pray I can live it out to His glory.

And maybe even inspire someone else to do the same.

My last day in Addis Ababa

2010-10-04T07:59:00.000-07:00

10/4/10

Monday

Court Date #2

I awakened early so I could get ready and have breakfast before meeting in the lobby at 9am. Yonas and Eyob greeted me and told me they were still waiting for word of my court appointment so we stood outside and chatted for a while. Around 10:00 word came that my appointment was to be at 1:30 so we decided to go ahead and go to the Transition Home so I could see Little Sister one last time. She greeted me with smiles and hugs...she is definitely a morning person! She had freshly braided hair, arranged in perfect rows, and was wearing the giraffe print dress with green trim that I had sent to her in a care package. It was so sweet to actually see it on her...and at a size 2T it was still big on her tiny frame. I pulled out her bear from my backpack (and I came armed with carmela...learned THAT lesson!) and showed her how to press the paw to hear her brothers and sisters says “We love you!” Boy, did that ever elicit the smiles! She pressed the paw over and over, happily showing it to the other children who came out of school for a break. We bounced a rubber ball for a while and she ran and skipped around the playground before showing me that she wanted to ride the merry-go-round. I sat her in a seat and began spinning it slowly. When she was on the opposite side from me I would say, “I see you!” and then when she got close I would say “kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss!” then smooch her on the cheek. She loved it. We did that at least a hundred times and after a while she would say “I see you!” on her own. She is so smart. Eyob gave me the 10 minute warning of our impending 11:45 departure and it just hit me that this is it. I am leaving today. I picked her up in my arms and just looked into her face. I held her close from head to toe and told her, “I will be back for you. I will not leave you an orphan. You will come home and be with Mommy, Daddy, and your brothers and sisters forever.” I kissed her little knows and breathed in her earthy scent. Eyob came to fetch her so we could go, but she clung to me. He said in Amharic, “You want to go with her?” and she replied, “She is going by herself.” So apparently she understood what was to happen, but just didn't like it. I kissed her face all over and carried her back to a room with toys and she was easily distracted by a deck of colorful cards so I slipped out, tears running down my face.

Eyob and Yonas drove me to Makush for one last lunch. They remembered me telling them that it was my favorite restaurant we had eaten at so far. I had lasagna again, but it tasted like cardboard because my stomach was in knots about the impending court appointment. I drank Coke out of the bottle one last time and bought a small painting of a church with crosses from the art gallery. The owner came up to me, introduced himself, and took my hand. He started speaking:

“I just want to tell you how, when Americans come here to adopt children, I am thankful from the bottom of my heart. Anything you want to buy...I give you a discount. I believe that individuals can change the world, so thank you from the bottom of my heart.” I was speechless.

Then we headed out to the courthouse.

Gulp.

We arrived and I was thankful to see the door was open. Hallelujah! We walked in and entered a tiny elevator...4 people made it feel very crowded. We went up to the third floor and walked down the hall to the waiting area outside of the courtroom. There were only a handful of people there, but over the course of 30 minutes it filled up and soon there were no seats left. I kept watching the faces of the women who were obviously coming in from the countryside. I knew sweet girl's birthmother would appear in court with me, and I studied faces to see if I would recognize her. Duni feared that, because of the full waiting area, we might be there for a while but we were the third case called in.

I entered the room after Duni, which was not more than a glorified office. I turned and behind me, with her head lowered, entered a frail, thin, sad woman. It was her. It was Ribka, her birthmother. I cought her eye and smiled, and she smiled back. A beautiful sight on such a weary face. My heart broke for her as the judge asked her questions through the interpreter who shifted from Amharic to Wolaytegna with ease. Then she quietly left the room and it was my turn. I sat in the seat where the interpreter had been. The judge greeted me and asked,

“Do you have children?”

“Yes, I have four.”

“Wow.” Seriously, she really said Wow!

Then she asked, “And you want to add one more?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“Have you studied about Ethiopia and Ethiopia history? It is very important as she will have questions when she is older.”
“Yes.”

“Have you taken any training on issues regarding international adoption?”

“Yes.”

“Are you prepared for the changes an Ethiopian child will bring to your family?”

I wanted to say, “What changes? She looks just like her siblings!” but I just said, “Yes. I am.”

She then asked, “Have you met her?”

“Yes, I have.”

“And you want to adopt her?”

“Yes, we do. Very much.”
Then she took a stamp in her hand, pressed it to the document on her desk and said the words that will forever change our lives...

“She is yours.”

Signed, sealed, delivered.

Mission accomplished.
Hallelujah!

I left the courtroom and saw Ribka sitting on a wooden bench. She looked at me with huge brown eyes that were trying to speak what our language barrier would not allow. I walked up to her, and put my hand on her cheek. I kissed her cheek and wrapped my arms around her as she did the same. She is so thin. So very thin. I smiled at her, hoping she could see in my eyes that I was so grateful to her and so sorry for her at the same time. She looked into my eyes and I could see hope, relief, and gratitude. We stood there for a long time...two mothers loving the same daughter. One who was resigned to the hardship she has faced, the other wishing she could bring health to this frail body so she could someday see her daughter again.

I followed Eyob and Yonas out of the courthouse, and this time we took the stairs. My knees felt like Jell-o, and my heart was a strange mix of emotions...joy and sorrow all mingled together. We passed. She is ours. I have five children! But her sweet birthmother also has five children...and will never forget her youngest whom she has entrusted to God...and to us.

It was planned for us to meet back at the guest house so I could visit with Ribka and ask questions. How awkward. We had to wait a while for the translator to arrive, so Eyob and I walked down to a CD store where I could buy music that miss priss knows and loves...a song called Chembalala. After my purchase we walked back to the Guest House and within a few minutes Ribka arrived with the translator. She wore a ragged, long skirt, a plain gray shirt, and a traditional scarf with faded colors in the trim was draped around her shoulders. On her head she wore a green and white bandana tied at the nape of her neck. We sat at a table, she at the head, me next to her around the corner, and I longed for the ability to talk directly with her. After a few awkwardly quiet moments Eyob told me I could ask questions. So I asked the only thing I could think of...

“What to you want her to know?”

Through two translators the answer came...

“That she has two older brothers and two older sisters. I want her to remember them.”

I promised her that she would remember them.

She told me that after her husband passed away she could no longer work. She moved in with her father, but had to sacrifice much to provide for her youngest.

I showed her the photos I had printed for her and she said, “I am happy that she is with you.”

Then she told the translator and Eyob that what affected her the most was when I came up to her after court and embraced her. That had made her feel very good. Eyob said he, too, was affected by it. But I can't imagine doing anything else...

Eyob translated the letter I had written to her into Amharic, then the translator did the same into Wolaytegna. As they worked through each sentence she would nod and say “ashi...ashi...” which means “Yes” or “Ok.” She then told Eyob that she had to sacrifice much to take care of her daughter, but now her daughter would be in a family where she would know God. That made her happy.

It made me want to weep. I promised her that our daughter would know she loves her, and that she would love her as well. I also told her that I love her, and she nodded again saying “ashi...ashi...”

Eyob took a couple of photographs...me standing next to this tiny, frail, starving woman who was growing old before her time. She carefully removed her scarf and tried to arrange her hair, which was braided much like her daughters. I hugged her and kissed her, and she did the same to me. She stepped back and bowed, and I wanted to kneel at her feet and wash them. We embraced once again, looking into each others eyes and trying to speak with our hearts what our words could not say, and she retied her scarf before walking out with her head down.

I watched her go with a heavy heart. I looked at Eyob and said “She is so thin.”

“Yes,” he said. “Life has not been good for her.”

What a sacrifice. What love from this precious child of God who put the needs of her daughter before her own. What faith to trust God and us to put her little girl on an airplane and raise her up in, what is to her, a completely different if not unknown culture. In this moment, I was living the reality of our adoption in Christ. Bought and paid for by the blood of Jesus, snatched out of the claws of death by our loving Father, and placed into the family of God where all things are made new.

Lord, raise sweet Rebka up out of her circumstances. Give her health, and joy, and the necessities of life so she can live to see her daughter again.

And help us live up to this calling...to raise our children to be willing to do anything for You.

As I finish this journal, I am sitting in my room at the Yebsabi Guest House. It is 4:57pm, Ethiopia time. It was a warm day today, but a light rain came around 2:30 and cooled things down. I can hear children playing outside and the sound of hammering off in the distance. My bags are packed for my flight home and I will meet Eyob downstairs at 6:30.

I can't believe this journey is over. I am so ready to go home, but will miss many things about this country which is now forever in my heart. I wonder what God will do with this? My mind will be processing what I have seen and experienced for a long time. What do I do with what I have learned?

When our little girl comes home, I will have so many things to tell her. I want her to remember as much as possible about her country, to be proud of her heritage and for the Lord to use her to reach out to her people. I pray I will never forget what I have seen, smelled, heard, and tasted during this week. Through it all I can say the Lord is faithful. He is mighty to save. He is here amongst the poorest of the poor as much as he is present in our beautiful American churches. Joy is evident here...in the faces of the people, in the hospitality and care they offer to strangers like me. Joy is not a result of wealth or good circumstances, but it is a result of being part of something bigger than yourself...being part of a community, the Kingdom of God coming together to take care of its own.

Hello From Ethiopia!

2010-10-03T10:03:00.001-07:00

I have been here for a solid week and this is the first time I have been able to log into Blogger. Hallelujah! I have been journaling all week and wanted to share this incredible journey with you. I have one more day here before flying back home but what follows is what I have seen, smelled, tasted, heard, and felt over the past 8 days. I will never be the same. I pray that if you are feeling the nudge from God to bring one of His precious orphans into your family that this will encourage you to move forward and trust Him to build your family despite the obstacles you may face. He is so good, so faithful, and the lessons He is teaching me through this experience could not have been learned any other way.

So without further adieu...

Our Journey to Little Sister

9/27/10
Monday

I have so much to share, but know that I will be completely unable to do it justice with my words. We left home yesterday morning after kissing our four sweeties goodbye and spent the next 24 hours in airports and on airplanes. We flew to Dulles airport in DC first, then had a 4 hour layover. We enjoyed a late lunch of Quesadillas and chatted with the friendly Ethiopian bartender who shared that she dreams of going back to Addis to open and orphanage with her mother so they can care for the children. Talk about an instant heart connection! Then we boarded Ethiopian Airlines flight 501 to Addis Ababa via Rome, Italy.
As we took off from DC I kept remembering the verse from Isaiah that was given to me by the Lord through a prayer-warrior friend...You shall go out with joy and be led forth in peace. The mountains will bow down and the trees of the field will clap their hands....
I clung to His Word as we climbed to 35,000 feet and soared over the Atlantic ocean while tears stung my eyes. The sun rose at 1:00am “our time” over the ocean and, despite the fatigue, I was captivated. It began as a sliver of light that quickly illuminated the sky and the ocean below us. We caught glimpses of southern France, marveled at the Great Pyrennes mountains poking sharply through the clouds, and took in the lush Italian countryside. We saw an ancient castle on a hill overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. Amazing.
We landed in Rome to refuel and breathed deeply when the cabin doors opened which allowed a burst of fresh air to whisk through the aircraft. I enjoyed the friendly banter of the Italians who restocked the plane and marveled that our African flight attendants shifted so easily from Amharic to English to Italian.
Then, once again, we were airborne and this time we were headed straight for Africa.
Straight to my daughter.
We flew over the Sahara desert. I have never seen anything so barren and intimidating in all of my life. Not one sign of life anywhere. The terrain gradually became more hilly as we crossed the Ethiopian border.
Slowly, slowly, we descended. I felt sad that the sun was setting, meaning I would not get a good view of the city til morning, but then I looked up and there was the evening star shining brightly...completely alone in a cloudless sky. I felt the Lord speak to my heart, reminding me that He is right here with us on this journey. We may be traveling across the globe, but His eye is still firmly fixed upon us. I smiled as I looked at the thousands of lights flickering across the city and realized that one of those lights is my daughter. She is here. WE are here, in the same city with her. I wonder if she felt it in her spirit when we landed? I pray she did. As we touched down in Africa tears ran down my cheeks.
Next we went through the chaos of getting our Visas, exchanging money, and retrieving our luggage. Our drivers, Yonas, and Dawit along with Dawit's uncle Abrhm, and Eyob met us with friendly smiles. Another family who is here for their embassy appointment joined us and we were whisked off for a WILD ride through the city to the Yebsabi Guest House.

Oh. My. Word. People milled about everywhere, many sleeping on the sidewalks, bright and shiny new buildings being erected next to tin shanties, meat markets with huge slabs of beef hanging in the window, prostitutes and derelicts loitering, and children the age of mine running around with no parent in sight. Men urinated in the street and dogs barked from unseen alleys. I was officially experiencing culture shock.

We arrived at the Guest House and looked at each other. We were instructed to meet downstairs at 9:30am to receive our itinerary for the week. Oh...and we will go to the Transition Home after lunch. To meet her. We are here. We are going to have her in our arms in a matter of hours!
We unpacked, got online, and Skyped our babies back home. What a relief to see their smiling faces and hear their sweet, happy voices! We spent some time in the Guest House Lobby checking email and updating Facebook, then prepared to go to bed.

9/28/10
Tuesday

We met Duni, the AWAA Ethiopia Coordinator, at 9:30. I was taken aback by her accent...or the lack thereof! She sounded completely American when she spoke to us, but perfectly Ethiopian when she spoke Amharic. What a beautiful and interesting woman that God has so perfectly placed here in this position! She helped the other family get started on their Embassy paperwork then briefed us on what to expect. The best surprise was that we would not be seeing our sweet girl after lunch, but at 10:30! In ONE HOUR! Be still my heart.
After our meeting we grabbed our backpack, looked at each other with the “here we go, can you believe this is happening now” look, and got into the van for the bumpy ride to the Transition Home...to our daughter! We got out of the van, and suddenly we were surrounded by a sea of beautiful brown faces. Children everywhere, begging for hugs and kisses, saying to us in English “I love you so much” and holding our hands, our arms, whatever they could grab, until the nannies shooshed them away so we could go into the family meeting room. I quickly handed my cameras to Eyob, hoped he knew how to work them, and sat on the faded, slipcovered couch wandering when she was going to enter the room. There was a flurry of activity as the drivers and nannies all chatted and, suddenly, this tiny little girl walked into the room. She passed between the men, gaves us a glance, and headed for the toybox. Well, at least she didn't run out of the room screaming! We tried to get her attention but she was basically ignoring us...the strangers. Eyob spoke to her in Amharic, telling we are Mommy and Daddy and does she love us? I, of course, had NO idea what he was saying so imagine my surprise when she jumped into my lap wrapped her little arms around me! Tears welled up in my eyes as I held her and kissed her and whispered Eh-weh de-shal-lo...”I love you.” The I said it to her in English and she said softly “I love you so much.”
Oh my. I did not expect her to speak one work of English, much less be able to say THAT.
Daddy crouched down next to us with a smile on his face and we attempted to put her at ease, to somehow help her feel our love despite the language barrier. It didn't take long for her to start giggling and soon she was throwing back her head and laughing at the smallest silly gestures. Dropped toys, surprised looks by us when her sunglasses fell off the top of her head, and tickles elicited huge laughs from this tiny girl. She pointed at a picture in her hand on a deck of cards joined by a ring. It was of a man with his daughter. She pointed at us next and said “Daddymommy” in one continuous word. I was Daddymommy, and Daddy was Daddymommy! I worked with her on separating us...Daddy, Mommy...and getting straight who was who. Soon she was proud of herself for getting it right, pointing at me and saying “Mommy” then pointing at him and saying “Daddy.” We spent a sweet hour just loving on her and playing with her. We noted that she is not, in fact, perfectly happy all the time. A few times I could see her uncertainty when she tried to scratch or bite us. I learned the Amharic word for “gentle” is “cus”...a word that I feel I will be using frequently! But though she did act out a bit, when I firmly took her hand and said “cus” or “no” she responded. I am sure she was trying to figure us out...to see why we are really here and probably a bit afraid of what we are going to do with her. God only knows what she has experienced in her short life. But I was heartened by the fact that, when she accidentally whacked me in the head with a toy, she immediately looked concerned and softly touched my face while speaking softly in Amharic words that I could only interpret to mean she was sorry and did not mean to hurt. I just hugged her close and smooched her neck until she giggled. How I love her giggle. We then took her up to the front porch of the Transition Home where we were served coffee...Ethiopian style.
Oh sweet deliciousness.

Along with the coffee were were presented with plates of popcorn! I offered it to Haven but she shook her head “no.” So I took a few bites and made a big deal about how yummy it tasted and before long she was eating out of my hand! Soon, she started feeding me, which delighted me because that is a huge sign of trust. Then she was feeding Daddy and giggling when he spit out an unpopped kernel. Then Dawit signaled that it was time to leave and go to lunch, so we kissed her goodbye and left. So much to process, so many images burning into our hearts.

We ate at Makush, an Italian Restaurant and art gallery, and had FABULOUS lasagna and real Coke out of the bottle. Yum. I enjoyed visiting with Duni and learning more about her fascinating life. During our meal, she reached into her bag and pulled out a treasure...a DVD with a documentary of our daughter's life. Interviews with her birthmother and her grandfather, along with footage of her village and even the hut where she was born. She said she felt like this should answer most of our questions, but anything else we need to know we could ask on Friday after court when we were scheduled to meet her birthmother. After lunch we hit the road (road being a loose term in Ethiopia!) bouncing through potholes and dodging donkeys and pedestrians to head back to the Transition Home. Little Sister came right out, carried by her Nanny. I held my arms out and she came to me easily. She laid her head on my shoulder and relaxed while I squeezed her and kissed her sweet head. The Nanny then said “Before you come, she cry. Now she happy.”

We spent another hour and a half playing with her, noting that she scratched less this time and seemed more trusting. We walked down the street to see her temporary home, the second Transition Home that houses children over 2, and she proudly showed me her bed. Again we were surrounded by a sea of hopeful faces, by chubby hands grabbing at us, by lips poised for a kiss from whoever would be willing. I laughed as a little boy entered the room after all the children went outside and LS apparently was letting him know that this was HER time in no uncertain terms! The girl definitely has spunk and sass! We then went through the kitchen and heard the strains of the Veggie Tales theme coming from a little TV where all the kids sat, glued to the screen. What a surprise! The cook called out to her from across the yard and they began a silly sweet banter which included the cook asking “Do you hate me? Do you hate me?” and when LS said Yes just to keep the game going they would both laugh and stick out their tongues! The cook noticed my Ugandan paper bead necklace, which I was wearing as a bracelet, and gestured to ask if she could have it. Of course I said yes, then put LS in her lap to take a photo. She thanked me over and over, this precious old woman who has showered my daughter with love and laughter for months, and I put my hand on her shoulder and said “You are welcome. Bless you.”

We settled Little Sis in front of the TV and snuck out so she would not cry. We came back to the Guest House, tired and happy, and Skyped the kiddos at home, then had a dinner of vegetable pizza which hit the spot. We chatted with other families here to adopt and enjoyed all the stories God is weaving together, then went up to our room to settle in for the evening.

9/29/10
Wednesday

I really can't believe how easily we have adjusted to the time difference. We are tired, but not exhausted. We have stayed so busy that, honestly, that is the source of our fatigue...not jet lag. We awakened Wednesday morning anxious to get back to the Transition Home. The drivers, who by now are becoming our friends, were waiting with smiles and whisked us off after breakfast to spend more time with our sweet girl.
The drivers...I have so much to say about them. Dawit “David” is at the wheel, bounding over potholes, dodging pedestrians, donkeys, goats, and dogs, and driving up on a sidewalk if needed to get down the insanely unkempt roads of Addis. There are no seatbelts in the van, so we hold on for dear life and laugh about how boring the traffic in the US will seem when we get home! We call the driving here Demolition Derby, but in reality we have not seen one car accident in the entire city. Not one. They all think it is crazy to have stop signs in the US and to have to stop even when no one is coming! Eyob “Job”, who has walked us through the week and will accompany us to court, has eyes that sparkle with joy, a contagious laugh and loves to share about life in Ethiopia. He loves the children so well, smothering them with hugs and encouraging them as they wait for their families. Yonas is the well-dressed, quiet one. He loves to learn about our lives, and easily shares about Ethiopian history, geography and politics. He also loves the chidlren at the Transition Home well. The older children especially will come up to him for a hug and stay by his side, just content to have his arm draped over his shoulder. Robel, who handles the families here for their Embassy appointments, has been with us for much of the trip. He has traveled all over the world and is very good at explaining the politics and varying cultures of the country. He also has helped prepare us for what to expect on our next trip. Last, but not least, is T. T is a young, but mighty, man of God. He no longer works for AWAA but still chooses to hang out with us because he just loves it. He is a youth pastor here in Addis who also goes to seminary. His love for the Lord and his incredible grasp of English (he seriously does not have an Ethiopian accent when he speaks from years of watching American TV shows!) make it very easy to banter with him. He is on fire for Jesus, and on fire about what he sees the Lord doing around the world. He had been asked by another family how he felt about all the Americans who are coming through and adopting Ethiopian children. His response is one I will never forget:
“I see it as the Kingdom of God coming together to take care of its own.”
Amen, and amen.
So our second day at the Transition home began with a bang. We were standing on the front porch waiting for Eyob to bring her from the second TH. She walked through the gate, saw me, and ran full speed into my arms.
Oh my heart.
We had a wonderful morning together. I brought her Gerber yogurt snacks which she loved. She called them “carmelas” which I now know means candy. She would eat the carmelas and drink my bottle of water, dribbling all over the front of her shirt. When I flicked the water off she cracked up, throwing her head back and laughing hard. Her laugh sounds like tinkling glass. When it was lunchtime we kissed her and reluctantly handed her over to the nanny, tears flowing. She kept telling the nanny in amharic “I don't want to go. I DO NOT want to go. I want to stay.” Friday is going to be so hard.
We went to lunch at the Amsterdam restaurant, which is owned by an Ethiopian man who spent a few years in Holland and brought back the food with him. It was so good. I had a club sandwich that was filled with chopped chicken, eggs, tomatoes, and other flavors that I did not recognize. On the side was french fries! What a sight for sore eyes! As we ate, our companions noticed a woman sitting behind me. They were talking excitedly in Amharic about her, chuckling and staring. Finally they let us in on the fact that she is the biggest movie star in all of Ethiopia! I offered to take their picture with her and they were literally beside themselves. Eyob approached her with starstruck eyes and I expected he and Robel to stand beside her so I could take their photo. Instead, they put ME in the picture with her! So I have a photo of me with Meseret, who I am sure wondered why this American would have any clue who she is!
We went back to the TH after lunch to spend more time with our daughter. Before they brought her to us, though we got the sweet opportunity to take photos of and deliver care packages for 9 little ones whose families are waiting. It was such a neat feeling to be on this end of that experience! I remember how excited I was to get those first photos and wanted to be able to send beautiful pictures to their families. Some of the babies had apparently been awakened from naps, though, and did NOT want to be put down by their nannies. I really did not want to send photos of crying babies...not exactly what a waiting family is hoping for. I did my best to elicit smiles for their parents' sake! The sweetest delivery for me was the one I made to a 10 year old boy. His English is coming along, and we are able to communicate pretty well with him. I had seen him the day before and told him that I had a letter for him from his family and he lit up with a smile, saying “Remember me for my family.” His wise parents had had their letter translated into Amharic, so my camera snapped away while he read their letter. I then handed him the English version which they had sent for him to look over and, to my surprise, he began reading it too! To see this child's excitement, his understanding that there is someone in America who loves him and will come to bring him home, is beyond my capability to describe. He is being adopted. He has a family. Healing has already begun just with that knowledge.
After we finished with the photos they brought Little Sister back in to us. Once again she was so happy we were back. She and I sat quietly for a long time while she ate “carmela” and bantered with the other children who came up to share the love. After a while, the scratching and biting began again. I am not sure why, but I feel it is her attempt to not feel out of control. I noticed that the other children will tease her by trying to pretend I am their mother and she gets extremely agitated. It also happens if she is frustrated. In watching the way the children play and interact with each other, I think that is just not a boundary that has been taught. She will even turn on herself, scratching at her own neck. I will be reading Karen Purvis' books like a mad woman until she comes home so we can nip these behaviors from day 1!
Another thing that worried me is that she obviously was in pain. Her teeth are in terrible condition, huge cavities and decay are very evident. One tooth was causing her great distress and she kept grabbing it with her fingers and crying. It broke my heart.
While at the TH, we had the opportunity to meet with the social worker who gave us all that she had as far as background information. Not much that we didn't already know. We were also supposed to meet with the pediatrician, but he got hung up in traffic so that appointment got postponed. Eyob assured me they would have the doctor look at her tooth, so we left to get ready for the evening's activities. She screamed and cried when I handed her over, and I walked away in tears.
Wednesday evening we were taken to a traditional Ethiopian restaurant to experience food and entertainment, Ethiopian style. What fun! The dancing was incredible, and at times a bit...um...sensual. The dancers did this shoulder dance where they popped their shoulders and necks in all kinds of crazy directions, almost like their joints were dislocated! The real kicker was when a dancer came off the stage, walked up to me, and tried to teach this white girl with no rhythm to do the shoulder dance. I was most definitely the comic relief! The food was amazing...injera, beef, vegetables, and spicy sauces. We learned how to tear the injera and use it to grab bits of all the flavors using only our right hand, as is the tradition here. We drank Coke out of glass bottles again and left feeling full and with cheeks hurting from laughing.

9/30/10
Thursday

We awakened Thursday feeling not exactly rested. The busyness of the days here, combined with the incessant barking of dogs all over Addis during the night, were beginning to take their toll. Today we had a lot to pack in...Entoto mountain, shopping, and a visit to Kids Care orphanage, where Little Sister was first taken when she was relinquished.
We met our travel companions, who were quickly becoming friends, for breakfast. Rick, Margaret, and Rick's sister, Pattie, were here for Embassy and enjoying their first days with baby Lydia. Oh my word, what a doll she is! I was amazed how perfectly she seemed to bond with them from day 1. I would have never known she had not been with them since birth if I was not there when they brought her out of the TH. After breakfast, we piled into the van for the hour long drive to the top of Entoto mountain, which overlooks the city of Addis. We drove through startlingly poverty-stricken areas surrounded by lush beauty. Such an odd contrast. Ditches filled with murky water, trash, and human excrement just inches from playing children. Women hand-washing linens while chickens pecked away at the ground around their feet. Elderly men struggling to walk down the street, bent over a stick with a cushion of fabric scraps tied to the top with found pieces of twine.
As we gained altitude, the population thinned and the view widened. To our left was a hillside with goats clinging to rock. To our right was a panorama of God's creation...Ethiopia. Green, fertile mountains with the sprawling city of Addis tucked in between. We were above the noise, above the smog and exhaust, and the air was sweet and fresh. Dawit pulled the van over to the side so we could take pictures. We heard the clop clop clop of donkeys coming down the mountain with loads of firewood bound to their backs. Occasionally an old woman would come down with the same burden, bent over and weathered from years of hardship.
We got back into the van and drove to the very top, where the first church in Ethiopia still stands, as well as a beautiful old Orthodox church and museum. Our museum guide explained all the artifacts to us in his best broken English, so very proud of his heritage. As I listened to him speak, my mind drifted to our sweet girl back at the TH. How I want to retain all of this...every word. This her history. These are her people and her ancestors. I want her to know, to be proud of where the Lord chose for her to spend her first three years.
After we finished our tour of Entoto, we drove back down to Addis and stopped by the Kids Care Orphanage, where Little Sister spent 2 months before being taken to the AWAA Transition Home. It was eerily quiet when we arrived, and we were told the children were in class. Eyob stepped into the classroom and quickly motioned for us to enter. We timidly walked in and were greeted by a sea of brown faces and big, sparkling brown eyes who looked at us with unbridled curiosity and excitement. Eyob said something in Amharic and the children shouted in unision, “Hello, friends! It's nice to meet you!” Then a little girl stood with a stick and pointed to the torn alphabet chart hanging on the wall and the class mimicked her as she said “A..B...C...D...E...F-eh...G...” They were so proud to show off for us!
We ducked out of the classroom and walked across the couryard to the building where the babies and toddlers are taken care of. I walked into the baby room and nearly burst into tears. 6 babies lay on their backs. 3 were perfectly still and looked at me as if saying “Please pick me up.” One fussed quietly and the other two...tiny, scrawny, hungry newborns. One had dried milk around his mouth but sucked the air as if hoping for more. The other was so small and thin, I couldn't help but wonder how it had survived long enough to be brought to the orphanage. Oh how I longed to pick them up, but I knew if I did it would result in 6 screaming babies with only one nanny in the room. I had to respect her and the fact that she was doing her very best under the circumstances. I placed my hand on each of their foreheads, prayed for them, and walked out of the room in shock.
We went down the hall to what was apprently a toddler room. The door was halfway open and the room was full of little ones. Two ran up and jumped into waiting arms. I was the last one at the door, and noticed a little girl on the floor with obvious special needs. All of a sudden she used her hands to glide across the floor on her bottom and just like that she was at my feet with her arms raised, her head gently rocking back and forth and her eyes moving about out of her control. I picked her up and kissed her braided hair while tears filled my eyes. What hope is there for a child like this here? There is no physical therapy, no medical intervention available to an orphaned child who suffers from a syndrome like this. We asked if she was about three years old and Eyob said, “No, she is seven.”
Seven?
She has lived in the orphanage for five years.
Oh God, look upon her sweet face and let her feel You.
I gazed into her unfocused eyes and told her she is beautiful and that Jesus loves her. I held her for a long time and just prayed that she could feel her worth. I passed her over to my husband and she immediately explored his face, fascinated with his whiskers.
She has a name.
She is a person.
She is fearfully and wonderfully made.
She is precious in His sight.
After Kids Care we went to lunch again. We ate at a restaurant called “Lucy Bar and Restaurant,” named after the famed skeleton that was found in Ethiopia which is the earliest known human remains. It was right next to the museum where she is housed. I ordered Doro Wat, as that is one dish I wanted to be sure to try while here. It was SO good. Spicy chicken, a whole egg, and red pepper sauce with a kick tempered by the sour injera...the drivers were delighted when I ordered it and even more so when I declared I liked it!
We drove back to the TH to spend more time with sweet girl, and I found her waiting quietly in an office. She looked up from her daze, recognized me, and ran to me again.
Oh my heart.
I carried her up front where Daddy was kicking a soccer ball with the boys and we sat down to let her eat the carmela I had hiding in my backpack. A little girl, around the age of 12, who obviously loves her sat with us. She held my hand, kissed my cheek, rubbed my arm, and just gazed at me in adoration. She loved to make Little Sister laugh, but didn't pick up on her clues when she had had “enough”. She would tease her in Amharic, saying that I was her mommy and stealing kisses, and Little Sister became very agitated. She would start hitting her and pulling her hair, and the girl would laugh. Hmmm, I think I see why these physical outbursts are so common with her...the kids egg her on and laugh when she does things that hurt. I finally picked her up and walked around with her, though I hated to turn my back on the girl, but LS was much calmer when I kept her up and away...safe. I am here for her, and I need to take every opportunity to show her she is safe with me and build her trust. Later on, I was sitting quietly with her laying across my lap when a boy, about 12 years old, came up and spoke softly to her while caressing her head. He looked at me and said “She loves you.” My heart skipped a beat. I talked with him a while, learning that he was an orphan still waiting for a family. This child is precious, smart, and beautiful. He would be a blessing to anyone. I looked into his eyes and said “I believe God is going to give you a Mommy and Daddy. You will be happy. “ His eyes lit up and he said, “I believe in Jesus. I believe He died for my sins. I study hard, I pray in my bed, and I read the Bible. I am not worried. I trust God.”
If I could fit him in my suitcase I would. What a mighty young man of God! I said that when he comes to America I hope our families become friends so we can visit. He smiled and nodded. I have NO DOUBT he will be snatched up soon. I will be doing everything in my power to make sure he does.
Before leaving the TH, we spoke with the Pediatrician who said he had seen her creep up a bit on the growth chart, which was encouraging. He discussed possible concerns and issues with her growth and development but it was nothing we did not already know. We thanked him and kissed her goodbye before heading to the Boston Day Spa for a massage (Ahhhhhh....less than 10 US dollars for 30 minutes!) and then out to dinner at Castelli's Italian Restaurant which was our gift to our drivers for making the week so enjoyable and treating us so well. We enjoyed a glass of wine and lots of laughter before heading back to the Guest House for our last night in Africa. Wow, how time flies.

10/1/10
Friday

We awakened Friday morning, eager to go to court and make sweet girl officially our daughter. I had butterflies in my stomach, despite the assurance that court was “no big deal” and that we'd be in and out in 5 minutes, no problem. Duni called around 9:00 and said we should just hang around the Guest House until time for our appointment since it is only a 3 minute drive. So we passed time by packing for the flight home. At 11:00 we were told it was time, so we hopped into the van and whizzed over to the court house. We got to the door and a guard told Eyob that we could not go in because there was a meeting. Eyob turned his attention to a handwritten sign taped to the door which had apparently been posted late the night before. Courts closed for emergency meeting. No cases until Monday. The AWAA employee who handles the courts looked at us and said “Can you come back Monday?”
Um. No.
I had a Jerry Seinfeld flashback of the soup Nazi..."No soup for you! Come back two weeks!"
I suppose I appeared calm but I looked at my husband with a feeling of panic welling up inside of me.

I wanted to scream “DO YOU NOT REALIZE WE HAVE FLOWN 22 STINKING HOURS AND BEEN HERE ALL WEEK AND WE ARE LEAVING TONIGHT?????”
My heart was racing. What does this mean?
Feeling defeated we went back to the Guest House. Duni contacted the judge and tried to get us in but there was no way. Because of the meeting all court employees had gone home. We would have to stay. My husband, though, could not take off work three more days just like that, so we asked if they would let me stay and him go home. The judge agreed. So, suddenly, our entire weekend changed. I would be spending three days alone in Africa.
FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!!
We whizzed around town again, having lunch at a Tex Mex restaurant (I am not kidding! I had a quesadilla with guacamole!) going to the airline office to change my ticket, to an ATM to get more cash, and to the Transition Home to spend another afternoon with Little Sister. Kids were everywhere, and once again the same little girl started teasing her...acting like she was going to take me away from her. LS was not playing that game...not for one minute. I again had to remove her from the situation because she became so agitated. I longed for alone time with her so I could focus on bonding and not be fending off other children who so desperately want the family they see she has been given. What a hard place to be. My husband spent more time playing soccer with the older boys and wept when we had to say goodbye. We went back to the Guest House so my husband could pack and leave for the airport. We called home and let everyone know what was happening. They were tearful when they realized I was not coming home in “one more sleep” as planned. As he hugged and kissed me goodbye I realized I was shaking and crying. He said “You are in a safe place, you know that right? Are you scared?” I said I knew I was safe, but so many emotions were raging. We both knew that our friends in the US who did not know what it was like here would think he was crazy for leaving me. I knew I was in good hands and that this extra time with my daughter could only be good for her, but I missed my babies at home terribly. Add to that the fact that the power went out as they prepared to leave, and you have a recipe for disaster! The van arrived to take everyone to the airport and I stood at the door, numb, as they drove away. I was alone. In Ethiopia. Lord, you must have a lot more faith in me than I have in myself so here I am, in your hands. Gulp.
I ate dinner alone and called my sister-in-law via cell phone as the internet was down. The generator had kicked on after the power outage but the entire guest house smelled like Diesel fumes and the internet was fried. Gotta love that timing. She agreed to let everyone know and to post on Facebook for me so people could be praying. I went to bed feeling the beginnings of a head cold coming on.
Great.

10/2/10
Saturday

I slept like crap. Dogs barked all night long. I tried wearing ear plugs but my head cold, which had firmly entrenched itself, made the plugs extremely uncomfortable. I popped another cold medicine tablet and drank pineapple juice at breakfast, hoping the vitamin C would help. After breakfast I went back to my room and lay down. Apparently the dogs don't bark in the daytime so I was able to steal another 2 hours of sleep. I'll take it.
Around 12:30 Eyob called and offered to take me to lunch. I agreed and we met Dawit at the Zebra Grill where I had chicken kabobs and french fries. I seriously love the fries. And Coke. Talk about comfort food! We went to the Transition Home and I spent two wonderful, peaceful hours with LS. It was just what I had hoped for. She cuddled and kissed and laughed while eating the last package of fruit snacks in my backpack. I got out my camera and showed her how to press the button to scroll through all of the photos I have taken and she spent the good part of an hour doing just that...naming the people she recognized and smiling at “Daddy” when she saw him. It was priceless.
I was driven back to the Guest House and I was thrilled to find out the internet was finally working again. Hallelujah! I called my sweeties at home, talked to my mom, and even spoke with my hubby who was waiting for his last flight home. A knock at my door startled me, and I opened to find the lady from the front desk telling me Eyob had called and told her I need a new room so the dogs would not keep me awake. I was surprised, and agreed to move to the bedroom adjoining the living area we had been using. The window faced a different direction but I honestly wondered if it would make a difference. I figured it was worth a shot. So I shuffled all my things to the new room and then I ate dinner downstairs again...alone. This time I brought a book to read while eating, so that helped a little. It sure would have been nice if more families had been coming in for court this weekend, but unfortunately there were no more until the next week. Oh well. I went back to my room and piddled on Facebook for a while and watched a couple of really bad, no-name American movies before popping another cold medicine pill and going to bed. Cough...cough...cough.
Sigh.

10/3/10
Sunday

Wow. Sleep. I have missed you old friend! 10 hours of sleep definitely recharged this travel-weary body and, though the head cold still persisted, it seemed to be not quite as intense. Thank you, Lord. I ate breakfast...by now the chef didn't even ask if I wanted scrambled egg but just delivered it with a smile to the table...and chatted with Lorena and Steven who are here from California for 6 months. I went back up and got dressed, looking forward to going to church with T and experiencing worship in a new country! Yonas arrived with a driver who I did not know to take me to church. It was in an area of town that I had not yet seen, so the 30 minute drive was nice. I actually saw a traffic light for the first time since my arrival! T spotted me as I wandered around the crowd waiting for time for the service to begin and greeted me with a hug. He showed me around the grounds and we even ran into Duni. We went into the sanctuary and sat on the front row. I did not know what to expect so imagine my surprise when three white Americans got up to lead worship backed by a band and choir made up of Ethiopians, Ugandans, Kenyans, Koreans, Australian, and Chinese members! The name of the church is the International Evangelical Church and, true to its name, it is a little slice of Heaven. With services in English, French, Chinese, and Korean languages as well as Sunday School in English and Amharic it was a level of diversity like I have never seen. The service was very American in style...I recognized all of the songs (most from Hillsong) but the difference was in the volume. These people sing, and they sing LOUD. At the end of a song, when most congregants applauded, the back of the room erupted with women trilling their tongues. What an amazing experience! I thought the congregation was going to sing the roof right off of the building! How God must love that enthusiasm...
After church we went to lunch and I had Margherita Pizza with hot lemon tea. Good stuff. Then we went to the Transition Home to spend the afternoon with miss priss. She arrived with a smile and I smooched her cheeks, noting the sheet marks on her face. They had apparently awakened her from her nap to see me. I could tell she was groggy so I sat her down to get today's treasure out of my back pack. I had run out of fruit snacks, (because, if you remember, I was supposed to be HOME by now!) so I had stuck a package of pop tart treats thinking they would be good. Nope. She was sorely disappointed in what I had to offer. The kid wanted sugar...and would not even taste the treats because they looked like crackers. Darn. She whined a bit and explored my backpack, trying to find a piece of candy to no avail. Finally she gave up. We went down to the gravel parking area where Yonas was kicking a soccer ball with the three older boys who had stolen my hubby's heart this week. They greeted me with hugs and kisses and bright faces. Little Sister spotted a toy on the ground...a little half-ball that your flip inside-out and lay it down til it pops up. She had fun with it and then one of the boys tried to show her how she could make it pop in her hand. She was not about to give him the chance. I have noticed the girl is possessive of her stuff, and she got upset when he gently took the ball out of her hand in an attempt to show her the new trick.
Let the meltdown begin.
I tried giving her my camera to play with.
Scream, scream, whine.
I tried rocking her and soothing her.
Scream, scream, whine.
I tried putting her down.
Scream, hit, claw.
I turned her around so she could not hurt me or herself.
Freak out to the Nth degree.
On and on it went. The language barrier was painfully apparent and I braced myself for what I could see may be a rough first few weeks at home. I mustered all the patience I had for this tiny girl who is so wounded and afraid and Yonas called her nanny to come and see if she could calm her down. I was glad to see the Nanny, but LS did not want her which actually made me feel better. The Nanny took her and walked into the building to try to get her to talk and she came out saying “She wants the camera.”
But I tried to give her the camera!
So I tried again. But STUPID MOM unzipped the case for her. What was I thinking?? LS went into fits again. So the Nanny, Yonas, and I just stood there waiting for her to give it up. Yonas then gave me a piece of information that will be useful in the coming weeks and months...
“In our culture, when a child wants something we give it to them. We spoil our children.”
I nodded and said, “Oh, and in America if they whine we tell them no. That's ok, she will learn.”
“Yes,” he said, “She will learn.”
The crying and whining went on for over an hour. I did NOT want to leave with her upset for fear that she would think her behavior had driven me away. Thankfully, she gradually calmed down and began interacting with the nannies who offered different distractions...toys, tissues, songs. Before long she was giving me kisses again and playing Peek-a-boo while giggling uncontrollably. Thank God. The nanny heard me saying “I love you” in Amharic and she looked at me and asked “Do you love her?”
“Yes,” I answered, “very much.” She smiled and said something to LS which caused her to give me a big kiss on the cheek. Then it was time for us to leave, so I promised I would bring her something special tomorrow and she walked through the gate, smiling and waving at me.
Tomorrow she gets the bear we made for her early in the summer...the big purple bear which plays the recording of her brothers and sisters saying “We love you!” and which, I hope, will help her remember that we will not leave her an orphan...we will come for her.