Anniversary, Honesty, Psychology

This week we mark the 4th anniversary of Rosie becoming part of our family. I had a really hard time not choking on the word "celebrate" this year when I asked Rosie how she wanted to celebrate her "Gotcha Day". When we adopted Rosie, we added a beautiful, funny, spirited little girl to our family. And for those who know our family best, it is also no secret that we added a little girl who bears the wounds of an early life marked by death, loss, and upheaval. In the 12 months between when Rosie's birthmother surrendered her for adoption and we brought her to the States, Rosie was moved 4 times. The last 2 moves were into orphanages/a new home where she didn't speak the same language and couldn't have explained to her what was happening or why. Even for an adult, this would be pretty traumatic; Rosie lived it as a toddler, when she should have been busy forming healthy, permanent attachments to her parents.

Adoption is a beautiful thing. It is a wonderful picture of God's grace and redemption, and adding Rosie to our family has brought a whole new understanding of just how much my Heavenly Father loves me and pursues a relationship with me.

If you look at adoption brochures and blogs, you will often see the beautiful, happy side of adoption.

What you don't see as often is the reality that adoption is born out of loss and pain and heartache. But the truth is, that before Rosie could become our daughter, another family had to lose their daughter. Before Rosie was 2, her birthfather would die, and before the age of 3, her birthmother would have to admit that she, too, was dying and could no longer care for her daughter. Before Rosie could experience the joy of life in a family, she had to experience the upheaval of losing her first family and everything she knew. This painful, ugly side of adoption is part of the picture of redemption, too. Were it not for the pain, heartache, and separation that sin brings, I would have no need of redemption. If I came bearing no scars and wounds, with no sin and struggle, I would have no need of grace.

The first year that Rosie was with us was hard. Much of what we dealt with went unseen by others. In public, Rosie presented a completely different side to the one we saw at home. On several occasions when people would ask how it was going, if I was honest, I was told that I "just didn't understand kids" or "well, remember, you signed up for this". Hearing family tell us that “if they had Rosie, they thought she’d do just fine” was infuriating.  Watching Rosie cling to everyone else, being sweet and funny and affectionate with complete strangers, while at home she was creating complete upheaval was difficult. Rosie perfected the art of projectile vomiting at will and used it as her personal weapon any time life didn't go exactly her way. She channeled most of her insecurity at Nathan and worked hard to get him into trouble, ensuring that our happy, easygoing little boy became sullen, withdrawn, and angry. Before she even had enough English to form complete sentences she accused Gareth of beating her and twisting her arms by miming the actions (accompanied by sobs and tears) to a choir teacher. Admitting that she wasn't forming appropriate attachments to us was hard. I cried, A LOT. If you ask Gareth about that first year, he will tell you that there were many evenings when he would walk through the door and I would say to him, "Honey, I'm sorry. Supper's on the table. I have to get out of here. I will be back. I promise." And, I would quite literally flee the house. (Bless him. My husband is truly a prince among men, and he always let me go, telling me to take as long as I needed, just to be sure I was parked somewhere safe if I was going to cry.)

We put Nathan and Rosie in Mother's Day Out in separate classrooms to give everyone a break. I stopped letting Rosie be in a room with the boys if I couldn't see them. I read every book I could find on the subject of attachment. We had Rosie put on a medication that stopped her reflux and removed her ability to projectile vomit at will. And, slowly, we made some progress. But, there were still cracks in the beautiful picture. The days when Rosie would hug someone she barely knew and say to them, "I wish I live with you. I wish you be my Daddy", the moments when she didn't get what she wanted at the store and would literally leap out of the cart to try to hug whichever stranger was closest while she screamed and sobbed, the frustration of watching her turn into a completely different, adorable, obedient child when we were at church, the concern that came over watching her shed no tears while the rest of the family cried when our cat died, the incessant chatter and attempts to constantly create an atmosphere of upheaval in our home, the guilt that came from knowing that I had "done this" to our boys, and the need to guard carefully how honest we were when most people asked how things were going were constant companions.

Knowing that you are in the center of God's will makes things bearable and worthwhile, it doesn't always make them easy to swallow, though! And yes, I know that statement marks me out as less than perfect, without a perfect faith, but it's the truth. It is part of what God has been teaching me, to rest in His will and accept EVERYTHING that He allows into my life as part of His perfect plan, sifted through the fingers of a loving God for my good and for His glory. Not that I always manage to approach life this way (see previous statement about not feeling like celebrating Rosie's 4th Gotcha Day).

Much has changed. Rosie has grown. She has begun to trust. It's been almost two years since she told someone else that she wished they were her parents, we have seen her shed genuine tears several times, she and her brothers enjoy a fairly typical sibling relationship, and on several occasions she has said, "I love you" and offered hugs without seeing her brothers do it first.

But, the reality is, that there are still cracks in our beautiful picture. Rosie has grown so much, but we still have so much work to do. Now in 1^st grade, the effect that Rosie’s difficulty in fully trusting us is having on her anxiety level and her ability to homeschool effectively with me is very evident.  And, we don't have all of the answers. To this end, we marked Rosie's 4th anniversary home by beginning work with a child psychologist who specializes in working with children dealing with reactive attachment disorder. We are very grateful that there is a doctor in our home town who is not only a specialist in this rare field, but also an adoptive parent himself. We don't have a full picture yet, but his encouragement to us today was that Rosie had begun to form a healthy attachment to us and that we were early enough in the game that we should be able to work together to make lots of progress.

It would have been easier not to write this post. It isn't always popular to admit that you are seeking help from a psychologist, and, to a certain extent, I get that. I don't like labels, and I do think that it is far easier to medicate away our problems instead of doing the hard, messy work of dealing with the underlying issues.  It is certainly far too popular to give bad behavior the name of an "illness" instead of calling it for what it is: sin.

In the Christian community, psychologists can be especially unpopular. After all, surely if we just sought God and trusted Him completely He could and would heal the broken places in Rosie's heart. And, if we were parenting her in a godly way, surely we wouldn't have these problems. Besides, what if the psychologist fills our head with all sorts of ungodly psychological mumbo jumbo???  This view, too, has some truth to it. Ultimately, complete healing will only come from the Great Physician. We do need God's wisdom in parenting all of our children. And, it would certainly be easy to find plenty of ungodly mumbo jumbo if we listened to every psychologist/psychiatrist/counselor/therapist that came along.

So, why bother putting this out here for all the world to see? Because it's the truth. Because those of you that know and love Rosie will be hopefully be spurred to pray more fervently for her (and for us) knowing the truth. Because there shouldn't be shame in admitting that we are seeking psychological help for Rosie, and hiding it away perpetuates the idea that we (or she) should somehow be ashamed or embarrassed. Because I don't ever want to be guilty of presenting only the beautiful, happy side of adoption--This can be the reality, and it does a great disservice to those considering adoption to not tell the whole truth about what can sometimes happen. Because I believe that it is possible to trust fully in the Great Physician to work in my daughter's heart and life, and I believe that He can use a psychologist as part of the process. Because I am working on embracing Reactive Attachment Disorder as a part of God's plan for Rosie- a gift to draw her to Himself and show her His unchanging, unfailing love for her and a part of His plan for me-a gift given by a loving Heavenly Father who is refining my character, smoothing off the rough edges, purging the selfishness and sinful inclinations, and working all things for my good.

 

 

 

My Heart Is Coming Home

Updated 11/15/2012:  The adoption is complete!  Sweet "C", who we named Kayleigh Elisabeth is home, so I am free to put back the posts that mentioned her.  No missing blog posts now!

I have heard before, that to be a mother is to forever walk around with your heart outside your body. The last 7 years have certainly proved this to be true. And for the last 2, a big chunk of my heart has been in Ethiopia.

Those of you who have followed this blog for some time will, no doubt, remember the blog posts about the little girl I met at the orphanage in Ethiopia while I was there to bring Rosie home. And, you'll probably remember that we worked for some time to try to find a way to sponsor her and get her some medical help or a care-giver to work with her one-on-one.

If you look back now, though, you'll see that those blog posts are missing. When I posted them, I had no idea that I would ever get to be saying this, but, "I can't share her picture or her legal name with you out of respect for Ethiopia's privacy rules for children being placed for adoption"!

Yes, it would seem that God's plans for sweet "C" were bigger and better than I had dared to believe they could be! And, it also seems that out of all of the families in the world, God has chosen us to have the privilege of being her family.

For those new to the blog, who have know idea what I'm talking about, or for those I haven't talked to in a while, the story goes something like this:

In 2009, while in Ethiopia to bring Rosie home, we visited an orphanage in Addis Ababa. While there, I met a little girl. She was sat back in a side room, desperately wanting to be part of the merriment going on out in the courtyard. She had some very obvious disabilities, but what really stood out about her was her determination to get to where the action was and her desire to be held. I spent my time there with her in my arms, head on my shoulder, as she rubbed my face. I lost a huge chunk of my heart that day. Setting her down and walking away was one of the hardest things I have ever done.

When I returned home, I couldn't wait for the house to be quiet. As Gareth and I crawled into bed that night, I tried to tell him about her and all I could do was cry. I so desperately wanted to bring her home with me and be her Mommy!

The reasons we couldn't were obvious. We had just adopted, we were completely broke, we had a newly-adopted daughter who was having a "challenging" adjustment period, and Gareth found disabilties hard to deal with.

But, I couldn't forget her. Each day I prayed (and many of them I cried) that God would send someone to love her. I prayed that he would send her a family. I prayed that each day God would send someone to hold her and give her the affection she craved. I prayed that she would have enough to eat.

I called our adoption agency and asked if she was adoptable and could be put on their "Waiting Child List". I was told that due to her profound disabilities, she wasn't really adoptable. So, I asked about options for sponsoring her and getting her some medical help. They kindly looked into that for me, and I liased with the orphanage director via e-mail to see if there were specific ways we could help her. Then, in a moment of desperation, I called our social worker and asked if she would approve us to adopt a child with "profund disabilities". The answer was, as it should have been at the time, that we would need to show some specific things before it could be considered.

Time passed, sponsorship options didn't seem to be working out very well, and adopting her was obviously not a possiblity because you can't very well adopt when not both parents are up for it. I believed that I wouldn't be her Mommy and began to think again about asking to be her advocate and try to find another family who could adopt her.

In July, I had several people ask about my time in Ethiopia and a couple of others ask specifically about the little girl I had blogged about. As I reeled off the list of reasons we couldn't adopt her and the other options we were pursuing to try to help her, I felt more and more like a hypocrite.

By the end of July, I couldn't take it any more and one night I nearly burst as I said to Gareth, "Why is this okay? Why is it okay to hear God's command to care for the orphans and the widows and expect somebody else to do what we're not willing to do ourselves? Why is it okay to try to throw money at a problem so somebody else can take care for it or ask to be her advocate and try to find another family to do what we're not willing to do ourselves? God made sure that on that day, in that orphange, I saw her. Not somebody else, me. He has ensured that I can't forget her, and I don't want to. I don't want somebody else to take care of her. I want to take care of her. I want to be her Mommy. God wouldn't call one of us to do something without calling both of us. I honestly believe that if He has laid this on my heart, then He'll lay it on yours, too. Will you pray, sincerely, for one month that God would show you the right thing to do. I'll pray, too, that if I'm wrong, that He will show me and remove this desire from my heart. I won't bug you about it, but in a month, I want to ask you if we can adopt her. If you've prayed about it and the answer is 'No', I won't resent it and I'll never ask you again. But, please, will you just agree to pray about it?"

Let me tell you, that was a DIFFICULT conversation. Poor Gareth. I cried so hard that I'm sure I was barely coherent, and, although after 10 years he's gotten somewhat used to my occasional hare-brained ways, I'm sure I couldn't have surprised him more. Thankfully, he agreed to pray about it.

One month later, after our monthly date, I sat in the van next to him and asked him if he'd been praying. He said he had, and then, just to torture me, he said nothing else. "Well", I prompted, "what do you think?" And the reply, "Well, I think we should go get her. What do we need to do to bring her home?"

And so, the discussions began. What were her needs? How could we meet them? How could we afford to adopt overseas again? How would we manage the medical bills? Could I cope with 4 children, 1 with "profound" disabilities? How would we cope with home-schooling? How much more income would we need? How would I cope with lifting and carrying a child who could nto walk with my already existing back problems? Were we completely crazy?

The last 4 months have seen us looking at finances, paying off our credit card, trying to finish off my nurse refresher course so we have a back-up plan for emergency income, moving to a year-round schooling plan that will accomodate breaks and therapy appointments, tightening our "budget belt" to make better use of our money, and has finally seen Gareth promoted to project engineer. The promotion yielded only a small pay increase, but it provides the potential for future pay rises and promotion.

And so, last week, we submitted the necessary paperwork and were officially approved to begin the adoption process again!

WE (yes, both of us) are SO, SO excited. Last night, as we looked at some new pictures of her that another family who had been in Ethiopia lst year sent us, Gareth said, "Can you believe, that out of all of the families who have fallen in love with her, God is going to let us be her parents?"

I'm sure that this journey has plenty of potential to be hard. International adoption is fraught with frustrations and hard things. But she is so worth it! It's been 2 years in the making, but now, in God's perfect timing, we're on the road back to Ethiopia. My heart is coming home!

P.S. Just in case you were wondering, we have chosen her name. And, I can share that with you. She will be Kayleigh Elisabeth. Kayleigh (modern Arabic) means beloved. Elisabeth (Hebrew) means consecrated to God.

The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly

The good news-Sunshine and dry weather has returned to Oklahoma, if only for a short time. We spent the afternoon making the most of it, playing soccer, throwing frisbees, shooting the rockets, doing sidewalk chalk, and flying kites. The kites were definitely the highpoint of the afternoon.

Just chillin'! Nathan was thrilled to be old enough to fly his own kite. Once he got it flying really well, he just laid back on the ground and smiled. Every couple of minutes, he'd give me a big smile and say, "Mommy, flying a kite is really entertaining, isn't it?" Rosie had a great time, too. It never ceases to amaze me how patient Noah is with her. He happily shared his kite with her, helping he to fly it, and then letting her fly it alone. After having been told approximately 20 times that she must not let go, when Noah let her hold it alone, she let go. In the high winds this afternoon, the kite was instantly gone. And, bless his heart, he didn't say a word or make a single sad face.

Thankfully, we had a kite from Favourite Auntie Keri that Noah was finally big enough to fly, so we brought it out. It was promptly dubbed "The Shrimp".

The Bad-It has been a rough week. The last two months have gone really well. Not perfect, but we were finally seeing a real improvement in Rosie's fierce competition against Nathan, the vomiting at will, and some of the rougher aspects of helping Rosie come to terms with the effects of being an orphaned toddler and the hardships and coping mechanisms that resulted. It really felt that we were nearing the "light at the end of the tunnel". But, Rosie has used the last 8 days to make it very clear that this is not the case. We are most definitely "back in the trenches", dealing with compulsive lying, near-constant whining, excessive excitability, lots of superficially charming behavior with non-family members, extreme competition with her nearest brother, constant demands for attention, manipulating behavior, and on and on and on.

The Ugly-Well, actually, all of the above behavior is ugly. It is tiring and angering and difficult on the whole family. And, as most people outside the family are shown a very different, very endearing side of Rosie, most people have no idea what it's really like right now at home. Having reached a real low-point this week, I was able to arrange an appointment and spent an afternoon on the phone with a counsellor. After talking at length, she believes that we are dealing with Reactive Attachment Disorder (RAD). Now, this IS NOT a positive certain diagnosis. That would require more time, face-to-face interviews, and testing, but it was what I had become increasingly convinced we were dealing with, and it was both frightening and somewhat relieving to hear someone else actually say the words.

Thankfully, it isn't all ugly. There is good in there, too. Good-Rosie shows some disturbing signs of RAD, but she also shows many positive signs of attachment. The counsellor felt that there was no reason that Rosie shouldn't make excellent progress and a fully "recovery", for lack of a better word. Good-We were given some excellent information, along with direct contact information for a couple of the best therapists in the world who treat the children and families dealing with RAD's fallout. Good-We have been given several new books to read and DVDs to buy that will help with knowing how to deal with Rosie. Better-It was great to talk to someone who understood what was going on and knew what I was feeling without me even having to say it. She was a fellow Christian, who along with practical, "do this"-type advice, also gave sound Biblical wisdom and encouragement. And then, she spent a long time praying for Rosie and our family. Best-It is of the LORD's mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness. Lamentations 3: 22-23 We are NOT facing this alone. Rosie is not facing this alone. We will not be consumed (trust me, that earlier this week I thought I just might....) And, His compassions are new every morning.

I won't go into specifics about how we're going to approach this just yet, as frankly, we aren't sure. For now, we're focusing on lots of prayer, lots of love and touch, consistency, and ensuring that the boundaries are very clear and unchanging. While I had already done a fair bit, there is also a lot more reading and research in my future.

Will you please join us in praying for Rosie? From her birthmother to us, she had 5 different "homes" and caregivers in the space of a year. In at least two of these, she came into them not speaking the same language. For anyone, this would be a very difficult thing. In a very young child it can result in real difficulty being able to trust and form normal attachments. While Rosie has made a good start to this, there is obviously work to do.There is nothing that Satan would like better than to use this to harm her and us. But, God's plans for her are good, as are His plans for us. Please pray that God will work in her heart and mind to show her how much she is loved and give her the ability to trust us completely, and then to learn how to live and interact appropriately in life and relationships.

One Year Ago Today

One year ago today, this picture arrived in our inbox, and our phone rang with a call to say, "Today is the day"! This was our first picture of the little girl who was to become our daughter. I can't say it was love at first sight, because I had lost my heart to her long before I knew who she was. But, I was captivated by those huge brown eyes and desperate to hug her and replace that sad face with a big smile.

And, one year later, that sad little face has indeed been replaced with a big smile that almost never stops.

God is good, to her and to us!

Thankfulness-A Chance to Share With Our Church Family

Our church had a Thanksgiving service and pie social tonight. We were honored to be one of 3 families asked to share what God had done in our lives this year and what we were thankful for.

My brain ACHED as I tried to figure out how to fit everything I could think about from the last year (particularly the last 7 months).

In the end, this is what I shared:

2009 has been a year of big changes for our family, as Rosie became the 5th Moffatt. From my earliest days, I can remember desiring to adopt at least part of my children, and this year saw that dream come true.

In May of 2007, Gareth and I both became convinced that God was leading us to adopt a child and we began the adoption process. The next year and a half were full of paperwork, home studies, psychological profiles, medical exams, and waiting.

In October of 2008, our savings and fundraising efforts were exhausted and we found ourselves $11,000 short. Over the next three months, we watched in awe as God provided all of the money we needed through friends and family around the globe.

On January 6 of this year, we received a phone call that said, “Congratulations! Today is the day”, and we saw Rosie’s picture for the first time.

On April 13, I met Rosie and on April 18 after a 28 hour trip, Rosie and I stepped off of the plane and she came home to her forever family.

Tonight, Rosie has been home for 7 months and I would not be truthful if I stood here and told you that adoption is easy and painless. It isn’t always. There have been days of discouragement and times when I doubt that I am truly equipped for this adventure.

But, as I look back over the last year, I can see time and again God’s faithfulness.

Our list of stories could go on for a couple of hours, but to hold it to my 3-minute time limit, I’ll hit only a few highlights:

Our family is thankful for God’s faithfulness to provide the funds needed to bring Rosie home. For the last 10 weeks of last year, we had at least 1 check arrive in our mailbox each week from someone who said God had prompted them to be a part. Our boys had seen me crying as we became aware of the lack of funds, and it was an amazing and humbling experience to be able to see them pray that God would provide the money to bring their sister home and then to watch their joy as they saw God provide all of the money needed. We are especially grateful to those of you here who supported our family with your prayers, friendship, and finances through our adoption journey.


We are thankful that when we asked God to send us the child who we would be the perfect family for and who would be the perfect fit for our family that he sent us Rosie. Seeing her walk off of the airplane and straight into the arms of her Daddy and brothers like she had always belonged there is a testament to the work that God had done to prepare her heart and ours for that day.

We are thankful for amazing memories: first hugs, first kisses, first “I love you’s”, first ice creams, first times to hear her call us Mommy and Daddy, hearing her first prayers, and the excitement and wonder that she brings to life as we see her experience so many firsts.

We are thankful for the strength and wisdom that He provides on the days when we wonder what to do and what to say and how to deal with the challenges of raising a little one who did not have the advantages of early training, discipline, and stability.

James 1:27 says : Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.

We are thankful that in God’s wisdom and plan, He has given Christians the responsibility to care for those who have no family and are especially grateful that He has allowed us to be a part of His plan for Rosie’s life.

We believe that adoption is evangelism in its’ most personal and intimate form, and we are grateful to be a part of sharing the love of an earthly father with Rosie in anticipation of the day when she will come to a personal saving relationship with her Heavenly Father.

Now more than ever, I realize how much my Heavenly Father loves me and I am grateful that He has given me the opportunity to understand that love a little better. And, I am even more grateful that he has given us the opportunity to show Rosie how wide and long and high and deep His love really is.

Adoption-type Thoughts

Rosie will be 4 tomorrow. On the 18th, she will have been home for 6 months. In most ways, it seems like she has always been here, and although I can remember life before she was at home, it seems like such a very long time ago. When I stop to think about it, I am amazed at just how easily she fitted in as part of the family. Not that we don't have our rough days and hard issues to deal with, but the big picture is one of a little girl who very early on considered us family, and where it just felt natural to wake up and see our daughter here at home with us every day.

I love to see the ways that she is so like us, and she does, too. Lately, she has taken such pride in seeing the ways that we are similar. Something as small as wearing the same color as she is delights her, and she loves to point out the ways that we are the same. She also loves the fact that Mommy and Rosie both love avocados, but none of our guys do. She delights in sharing anything off my plate and regards that as a super special treat.

When we go somewhere, she always asks, "Home now?", and she smiles from ear to ear when I say that we are going home. She loves to go places and do new things, but does seem to take a special delight in knowing that we are going home.

Life as a Mom to 3 little ones is challenging. The strong wills and high energy levels from Rosie and Nathan can be particularly wearing, but I already find myself wondering when we will be able to start the adoption process again.

Someone once told me that adoption was like potato chips, you couldn't do just one. I laughed, and Gareth said, "You wanna bet". But, I think they were probably right. I've been thinking about why, and I've come to the conclusion that it is because God's heart is for adoption, and once you have seen that and then experienced the reality of it, you can't help but have your heart and life and priorities changed.

Because we had never actually attended an adoption conference hosted by our agency before, we went to one in OKC this week-end. I was offered the chance to briefly share our adoption story. Here is the last portion of my attempt to share why we did it, and perhaps why for so many adoptive families, you can't do just one:

We don’t adopt because it is easy-we do it because it is right.

We don’t adopt a child because we want to be loved-we do it because we love God.

We don’t adopt just because there is a need (although there is)-we adopt because we are convinced that this is what pure and undefiled religion looks like.

We don’t adopt out of pity or a need to earn favor with God-we do it in response to what God has done for us.

We do it because adoption provides the opportunity to share the gospel in the most intimate way possible. Adoption affords us the opportunity to show a waiting child and a watching world what true love looks like, which then gives you an open window to introduce them to the love of God.

We do it because we were adopted.

Adoption has given me the opportunity to:

Learn how to love someone I had never seen.

Learn to do whatever it took to bring my child home.

Learn that a family is not made up of people who look the same or share the same genes-but of those who are knit together by a loving God.

Adopting Rosie has allowed me to look at my adoption in a completely different way- to begin to understand the love of a God who would pursue me to the ends of the earth, who would sacrifice whatever it took to bring me home, who would love me even when I am unlovable, who would continually be the God of second chances and new beginnings, who would delight in my presence, and who would find satisfaction in hearing me call Him Abba, Daddy.

John Piper on Adoption

Don't forget to pause my playlist before trying to watch.





His closing encouragement:

I would suggest that you seriously consider not only supporting, but also doing adoption, both spiritually ... and also in terms of finding children who have no mom and dad who could be folded into a family—just like God planned from eternity to fold sinners like us, through Christ, into his everlasting family of joy.

May God bless you in all your dreaming, all your planning, all your praying, all your working in the cause of adoption.

We Have Room

As Gareth and I talk and pray about our next adoption, I find stories like this one so challenging. I encourage you to check it out: http://vimeo.com/4613189

Momma and Mommy

When we received the photos of Rosie's first mother a couple of weeks ago, Gareth and I had a difficult time trying to decide when/how to show them to Rosie. In the end, we decided that it would be best to show her now, which would hopefully provide her with an outlet to express some of the grief and loss she has experienced in the last year.

Honestly, I was a little nervous. I am still exhausted from the last few weeks of difficult behavior, and I wondered what else this would bring on. But, I decided that dealing with any difficulties now would be better than allowing them to fester.

With the boys away at Music Camp last week and Gareth at work, Rosie and I had plenty of time to be "just Mommy Rosie", so I took advantage of the quiet setting to show them to Rosie.

With her on my lap, I pulled up the photo on our computer and showed it to her. When I asked her who it was, she pointed at herself and said, "Rosie". So, I pointed at her first mother and asked her if she knew who she was? She smiled and looked at me and said, "Rosie, Momma". I agreed that yes, it was her Momma. She giggled and pointed out her Mommas' headwrap and a scar on her forehead. Then, she wanted to tell me about the old shoes she had on in the picture. After a minute, I pointed at myself and asked who I was. Her immediate response, "Mommy". Then, she pointed at the picture on the computer, saying, "Rosie, Momma" and then putting her arms around me, she said, "Rosie, Mommy".

Our social worker felt that this was a very positive sign of Rosie's settling into our family and her ability to reconcile the events of the last year in her young mind.

And, as for me, I was so pleased. Two women, one Momma, one Mommy, both able to hold a special place in Rosie's life. I love to hear all of my kids call me Mommy, and it feels even more special now when I hear it from Rosie.

Quick Update to Love is a Choice

I can't even begin to tell you how encouraged I have been by friends who have e-mailed, left blog comments, called or came to find me at church this week-end.
Just to know that you are not alone is such a help. I spent some time on my yahoo group with fellow adoptive Moms, and it was so good to find that I am not the only one going through this with our recently adopted little one, nor am I the only one who is struggling. Not that it is good that they are struggling, but it is good to hear that I have not lost my sanity and to hear from Moms who have already walked this path that things do get better. Thanks to all of you!

I also wanted to let you know that we had a FANTASTIC week-end. Let there be no doubt that prayer works. As friends have prayed, we had a week-end without any major meltdowns, no tantrums, no lying, no sharing issues, no big competition issues, no need to use the "thinking stool" and best of all, NO VOMITING because she didn't want to eat.

On Friday night when she was done eating, she said, "Mommy, Tummy full. I no more want this". I actually cried. What a big sentence and how nice to not end my evening cleaning vomit from all over the kitchen! Indeed, we have had no vomit since Thursday now-well, not on purpose. There was an amazing episode of carsickness on Friday night, but that was very obviously not on purpose and proved to be a good thing in the end, as I took care of her and cleaned her up and then comforted her, which seemed to make a big impact on her-she was so loving and grateful afterwards.

I'm sure that there will still be challenging days ahead, but I am grateful for signs of progress which give me hope for the future. I was able to crawl out of bed this morning without dreading the day to come.

We have some good pics from an outing with friends and lots of fun little stories about what we did this week-end, but for now I am off to make the most of the time while the boys are at Music Camp for the week.

Oh, and just to let you know how well things are going, I am typing this while Rosie is awake and playing- happily entertaining herself.

Love is a Choice

If you look at most of my blog, you will see the sweet, funny, happy side of adoption. Today, I'm going to give you a glimpse of the other side. I have really wrestled with some of these issues over the past couple of weeks, and have resisted "putting them out there" for everyone to see, but I do not want to be guilty of giving a false impression of what it is like as we adjust to life as a family with a recently adopted child.

The last couple of weeks have been rough. Scratch that-the last couple of weeks have been almost unbearable. In the middle of life as Mom to the Many Mini Munchkins (ages 5,4 and 3), I have found myself in the midst of some of the most lonely, frustrating, heart-breaking circumstances of my life to date. I'll get to that in a minute.

But first, I should just get this said: I love my daughter. I do not for a minute regret the choice we made to bring her home or question whether or not this is God's plan for our life and for hers. Rosie is still unbearably cute, very funny and shows many positive signs of attaching and bonding well with all of the members of our family. She is very affectionate, and over the last 3 months we have made progress in lots of areas. Overall, she is happy and capable of bringing great joy to life.

But, there is also a difficult side to life right now. We are learning that Rosie has a will of STEEL. She is very often determined to have her way, and Gareth and I find ourselves turning to each other over the last two weeks and saying, "We're in for a challenging ride". Here's what we've been dealing with the last two weeks:

1. Lying-Rosie has learned how to lie. Last week she came to find me to show me a small scratch on her arm. When I asked her what happened, she told me the dog bit her. Absolutely impossible-the dog doesn't ever come in, and Rosie hadn't been out. When Daddy got home she showed it to Daddy. He asked her what happened, and she told him that Mommy did it as she mimed me grabbing her by the arm, pinching her skin and twisting it. (Boy, that one really got to me!) This week, Rosie is taking a new tact. She comes to find me and makes up lies about what the boys are doing or what they are saying. If she doesn't want to take a turn, she comes to complain to me about the boys' behavior and when I give instructions to go play nicely and take turns she returns to the boys and tells them that "Mommy said, Nathan be nice. Mommy said, Noah share".

2. Vomiting at will-Yep. Rosie has learned how to gag herself, and if she decides she doesn't want something, doesn't want to finish her meal, doesn't want to wait for the rest of the family to finish, wants something other than what she has at the minute, she gags herself and throws up all over the table.

3. Self-centered. Rosie can't stand to not be the center of attention. If someone else has it, she wants it and isn't prepared to wait for a turn. If I am giving one of the boys some attention, she will attempt to physically wedge herself between us or just interrupt me non-stop, even if I just finished giving her affection and attention. If I am serving a meal, she can't stand to not be served first and demands exactly what everyone else has, even if experience has shown that she doesn't like what they're having. If she is in a room and we have guests, she more often than not shows off, determined to be the center of attention. She refuses to share unless Mommy is directly supervising. If she doesn't get what she wants from her brothers, she whines and wails and pouts. If she doesn't get what she demands from me, she glares like I would have never thought possible from a child.

I have tried for 2 weeks to write lesson plans,and failed completely. I simply cannot with her in the house. Even if I have provided her with activities and put her close to me, she will not give me peace to pay attention to anything else. (To post on my blog these days, requires her to be asleep or in the potty!)

So, where does that leave us? On a purely practical level, it means making some changes to our schooling plans. Rosie will be attending pre-school 3 mornings a week this year to give Noah and I the undivided attention needed to work on 1st grade. Nathan will also be attending pre-school this year, as having a sister without full English language skills means that his excellent vocabulary and language skills have been exchanged for very limited, broken sentences like Rosie uses. And, the inability of Rosie to be still or to concentrate have rubbed off, so that he is no longer ready to take on Kindergarten. Thankfully, he wasn't actually old enough to have to start kindergarten, so we aren't actually going to be behind! It means lots of hard work-holding Rosie responsible to learn appropriate behaviors and attempting to model them consistently for her. It means taking the deliberate action to ensure that each of my children has my undivided attention for at least a small portion of time every day, to be assured of my love for them as unique individuals. It means reconciling myself to the fact that 3 weeks in we still haven't finished re-decorating our bedroom and the master suite hasn't been cleaned for over a week now!

On a personal level, it leaves me at the end of myself. On my knees. Learning to be more dependent on the God who has blessed me with this child, begging Him for the wisdom to deal appropriately with challenging behavior, asking Him for the energy to face another day and making the choice to trust that this period of time is for my good, Rosie's good and for His glory. It means making the choice to love Rosie, even when I don't like her behavior. It means recognizing that so much of this is hard because I am selfish. The phrase "My life is not my own" has become my motto. On the particularly difficult days, I have found myself returning over and over to this phrase, forcing myself to acknowledge that I am not here to please myself, but to serve the God who saved me and to share His love. Right now, specifically, to share that love with Rosie and the boys.

If you are reading this because you have adopted or are interested in adoption, then I hope I have helped you think realistically about the job you are taking on. We adopt children, not angels. Just because your child is adopted and given a new chance at life does not make them automatically grateful, obedient, well-behaved or kind. They can be just as naughty as the rest of your children, maybe more so depending on their temperament. If you add in to this the huge adjustments they have to make, the need to deal with past loss and hurt and the difficulties of language barriers, you have a perfect scenario for challenging times. But, the fact that adoption can sometimes be difficult does not mean that it is not the right thing to do. God rarely calls us to things that are easy or painless. But, He does promise strength for the journey and to hear our cry. He promises not to give us more than we can handle. God's command to care for the widow and the orphan doesn't come with an exemption clause because doing so means you might find yourself fighting hard battles at times. And, if you are adopting, I can assure you that there are lots of good times as well. (Just look back at the last 3 months of posts)

If you are someone who cares for a family that has chosen to adopt, can I encourage you to support them. You can pray for them, let them know you're praying for them, offer to babysit, bring them a meal, just be available to be a sounding board(and yes, I can assure you that they already know that their current difficulties are a result of their choice to adopt-I can also assure you that it is NOT helpful to insinuate that any difficulties their other children are having are the parents fault for paying so much attention to the newly adopted child), take an interest in their newly adopted child and love them as they are-imperfections and all, take an interest in their other children and help provide a break for them from the chaos,and finally, speak encouraging words that build up parents who may be struggling and questioning whether they are good parents or not.

Adoption is beautiful-imperfections and all. It reminds me of the love of my Heavenly Father who chooses to love me, despite my flaws and imperfections and selfishness. It gives me the opportunity to choose to love and in doing so to be stretched out of my comfort zone-growing me up and maturing me into the person God wants me to be.

I Would Gather Children

Throughout our adoption journey, I found several poems that I loved. But, last night at Rosie's Welcome Home Shower, my friend Karen Baker shared this one. I love it. It made me cry last night, and again this morning. It was such a sweet evening (pictures to follow later), but it started my heart aching all over again for the little ones still waiting for a "forever family". My hands are full right now, and so is my heart, but I long to be able to go back and bring home another sweet little one. I have purposed to begin praying now, that in His perfect timing, God would give us the ability to adopt again.

I Would Gather Children
-- author unknown

Some would gather money
Along the path of life,
Some would gather roses,
And rest from worldly strife.

But I would gather children
From among the thorns of sin,
I would seek a golden curl,
And a freckled, toothless grin.

For money cannot enter
In that land of endless day,
And roses that are gathered
Soon will wilt along the way.

But oh, the laughing children,
As I cross the sunset sea,
And the gates swing wide to heaven
I can take them in with me!

Another Mother, Another Child

Mother's Day was extra sweet this year. How could it not be? Not because it was celebrated with breakfast in bed, jewellery, perfume, flowers or any of the more traditional ways to celebrate Mother's Day, but because it was Mother's Day with these 3 all home together. I am still in awe of my beautiful family and just how naturally Rosie has become part of our lives.

I don't think that Mother's Day will ever be quite the same for me. Because as I reflected on the privilege and responsibility of being a mother, my mind went repeatedly to two people half a world away, one a mother and one a child.

I am so proud to be Rosie's Mother, but even if I wanted to, there is no denying that I am not her first mother. Half a world away, there is another Mother, a first mother, who gave birth to her, loved her, was there for her first cries, first smiles, first steps, and then as she became so ill that she could no longer see her daughter, feed her or care for her, made the choice that no Mother should ever have to make, to give her daughter up so that her daughter would have a chance at life. I used to wonder how any woman could give up a child if she truly loved them, but now I no longer wonder. Instead, I am in awe of the love of a parent who would choose life for their child, knowing that doing so would mean losing them forever.
I am grateful for Rosie's first Mother. Grateful for the sacrifice she made for Rosie, grateful for the chance to be Rosie's second Mother, and grateful to be a part of a little life for which God chose two Mothers.

Then, my thoughts began to stray to a child in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. Her name is Meron. She has just turned 6. She is my child, too. Not biologically, not legally, but a part of our family none the less. Meron is our child through Compassion International. Meron has only been a part of our family since the beginning of this year, but already it is amazing to see that relationship begin to grow. Sponsoring Meron is about far more than just helping to provide food, medical care and an education for her and job training and support for her Mother. It's about being involved with an Agency that works through local churches to help them meet the needs of those they are surrounded by, providing much needed physical support, which gives them an opportunity to share the love of God in word and in deed. And, it's about an opportunity for our family to be a part of sharing God's love with her. Sponsoring a child through Compassion International is an investment not just of your money, but also your prayers and your time. I love to hear my boys begin to pray for Meron. We used this last week at school to study more about Ethiopia, and as they begin to understand more about where Meron comes from, it is obvious from their prayers that they are listening and beginning to understand. And then, when we sat down to write to her together, it was so much fun to hear what the boys wanted to tell her and what questions they wanted to ask her. I can't wait to see the relationship grow. What a privilege to be a part of this precious child's life from half a world away, to play a small part in what God is going to do in her life, and to be able to be part of a relationship that will help her to see just how special she is to us and to God, even when the difficult circumstances around her might tempt her to believe otherwise.

So, for today, my number one recommendation for those seeking to live out the caring for widows and orphans part of James 1:27: consider sponsoring a child through Compassion International (http://www.compassion.com or just click the button at the top of my blog). It will change their life, and it just might change yours, too.

The Ethiopia Chronicles-Visit to an Orphanage

Having just re-read what I've written, I recognise that I have rambled, the sentence structure isn't great, some of the spelling is probably less than perfect, and it isn't eloquent. But, I'm not going to try to fix it. This was what has been on my heart and in my head, and I think I'm just going to have to be content that I've finally gotten it written down. I hope you'll overlook the poor writing and instead look at the content. So, here it is:





Thursday arrived, and I was excited. Rosie seemed to be doing great with me overall, and we were due to spend the morning at Kids' Care Orphanage, lunch out at a pizza restaurant, and then on to Gelgela Orphanage before a visit to the Lepers Hospital. But really, the excitement was all about the orphanage.





I love kids. Spend any time around me, and you'll figure that out. I always have. I think I got it from my Grandma. We had heard great things about the orphanages from previous families who had travelled, and I was excited to go and love on all of the kids. And, to be completely truthful, I was a little nervous. How could I go to Ethiopia and only bring home one child in need of a home? It was a question I had been asking myself and Gareth for months. I knew all of the reasons why we couldn't/shouldn't try to right now, and I knew the timing wasn't right, but I wondered if my mind and my heart would both manage to deal with that when confronted up front and personally when surrounded by children without a forever family.





After a quick breakfast in our room, we grabbed our suitcases of donations and headed for the bus. After a short drive, we turned down a narrow street and our bus stopped in front of some silver gates.





The gates were opened for us, and we headed in. There in the courtyard were dozens of children, the youngest looking about 3 and the oldest looking around 12 or 13. They were all waiting for us, and everyone (our group) included looked shy and nervous. We said hi, and some of them waved, but no one moved. So after a couple of awkward seconds, I walked about halfway towards them, and then knelt down and asked the nearest little boy if he knew "High 5". With a big smile on his face he came over, gave me 5, and then there was a rush of little kids anxious to give 5s, get hugs, and tell their names. Several of the little girls gave 5s and then wrapped their arms around me, desperate for hugs.





Some of the other families had their candy out, and the whole courtyard was a beehive of activity with children getting candy, wanting hugs, and excited to have their pictures taken so that they could look at themselves.





This little girl in the red dress attached herself to us very early on. She really wanted to just sit and be hugged, but poor Rosie was very nervous at the orphanage and really was upset when I began to love on the other kids. So, it was a difficult balancing act, trying to reassure Rosie that she was not going to be left again, and that Mommy could love on the other children without loving her any less.

After awhile, some of the nannies began bringing smaller children out one at a time from one of the buildings, so that they could have a piece of candy. This building housed the babies and youngest toddlers, and there was a sign on it saying that photographs weren't allowed inside (this is part of Ethiopia's way of protecting the privacy of young children who are adoptable).

I made my way to the entry and was greeted by the sight of a little girl who obviously has some serious handicaps. She was very thin, her dress hung on her, and her hair hadn't all grown in quite right. She was shaking and spasming and obviously very agitated by being able to hear all of the noise outside but not being able to get to it. Her face was looking around, but her eyes weren't focusing on anything in particular. Rosie was very insecure and didn't want to be put down, so I just knelt there in the entryway and began to talk to the little girl. At the sound of my voice she began scooting herself across the floor until she got next to me. Then, her little hands reached out and felt until she found my leg. When she found my leg, she patted her hands up until she found my arms, and then traced my arm up to my shoulder and began trying to pull herself up. I couldn't take it anymore and set Rosie down right next to me with a promise that I wouldn't leave her, and pulled the little girl into my arms. She was so thin with a face that seemed ancient in comparison to her body. Her face had several bad sores on it. Her eyes did not focus and I realized that she was almost certainly blind. Her little hands were patting my body and then felt there way up to my face. She found my face and began to caress it with her hands. She pulled my head down until she could lay her forehead against mine, and then the spasming stopped as her body relaxed. She just wanted to be held. So I held her and whispered to her, as Rosie began to get more and more upset. Eventually, I found myself squatting on the floor so that I could put one arm around Rosie and keep this little one in my arms while I whispered to them both. Then, pulling Rosie up in my other arm, I managed to walk around the small room that held the youngest toddlers. Through that room there was a small closet where 3 more little ones sat, all crying. There were no toys, no soft blankets or cushions, just a plain floor where they sat. I tried talking to them to soothe them, but they weren't content with just being talked to.

My Mom came through and said I needed to go to the next room to see the babies. She was crying and obviously upset. So, I headed next door. There were a row of babies all laid together in the cribs. They were tiny and so cute. Then, turning to look at the row behind me, I saw the source of her tears. In one of the cribs was the tiniest little one I had ever seen outside of a NICU. The huge eyes and ears and the ancient look to the face betrayed the fact that this was not a newborn, but rather an older baby who was suffering the awful effects of starvation. An IV was running through his scalp in an effort to save his life. The nanny pulled back the blanket, and his tiny legs were no bigger around then one of my fingers. His little bottom was bare as they sought to deal with the terrible diaper rash, and his bottom was smaller than the palm of my hand.







About this time Rosie began to come completely unglued saying that she needed the potty,and so I reluctantly tried to pry the little girl I had been holding off of me. She wouldn't be let go, so I found my Mom and asked her to hold her.





I ran Rosie to the potty and then went to visit the rest of the older children, who were in their "cafeteria" singing for our group.







Then, the staff prepared a beautiful coffee ceremony for us while Aster, the beautiful lady who runs the orphanage shared with us about the program they have begun for some of the boys still on the street and showed us the shirts they were selling to try to help fund this program.





Having bought some shirts, I turned around when my Mom began to call me from across the courtyard. She was crying, and said that they wouldn't stop crying if she tried to put them down. She had one of the little girls from the toddler room in her right arm and the little girl I had been holding earlier in the other She was agitated and spasming again as her face desperately turned trying to hear the sounds in the courtyard. I began to talk to her, and her face turned to me and locked in on my position. When Mom got next to me her arms came out until she found my body. Finding my face again, she pulled it down to hers. And with Rosie still in one arm, I took her with my other, as her head found my shoulder and again she relaxed and quit spasming. She just laid there, stroking my face

with her hands and this time, I could not stop the tears.

I held her and cried until it was time to leave. Walking with her up to the entryway of the building she lived in, I squatted down so that I could leave her. The problem was, I didn't want to. I knew that even if I wanted to I couldn't take her away with me, but she obviously wanted nothing more than to be loved and held. As I knelt in the entry way stroking her and crying one of the nannies came to the door and put her hands on my head and begged me not to cry. But how could I not? This little girl is one of the "fortunate" ones. She will not starve to death on the streets. But, neither will she have access to the medical care and therapy that she obviously needs to be able to reach her full potential. Just a brief time with her showed that she needs excellent nutrition, a team of therapists, and medical and sight evaluations by a team of Dr.s that she will almost certainly never find in Ethiopia. But more than that, she needs the love of a family. I couldn't take her away with me, and I had no idea if I would ever be able to afford the expense of another international adoption. I was certain that if we ever did again, it wouldn't be in time for this little one. And given her needs, the chances of another family adopting her is almost none.

Now, don't get me wrong. Kids' Care Orphanage is an amazing place. The staff that I met there are among the most beautiful people I have ever met. There are a team of nannies caring for the children and others who sew and do crafts in an attempt to raise the money needed to feed and care for that many kids. The children who find themselves there are indeed the fortunate ones.

They are fed, clothed, have basic medical treatment, schooling and are loved by the staff. But, the statistics remain the same. Only approximately 40% of the children we met will be adopted. And that is wrong. Children need families. God set up families as his ideal plan for society. Children need the love of a mother and a father.





Now, I'm going to provide a disclaimer here. If you don't want me to make it personal, then you should stop reading now. I'm about to get very personal. Everyone who happens to visit my blog

is welcome to keep reading, but the rest of this is for my fellow Christians. Anyone else is welcome to read, it's just that this portion of the post isn't addressed to you. If you do read it, then there will probably be some of you who will happily use it to point out just how true and what hypocrites we Christians are. And unfortunately, many times you'd be right. But the truth is, we (me included) aren't perfect. We screw it up, get it wrong, ignore it, and mess up just like the rest of the world. The difference: we're forgiven. And, with God's grace, we should be growing and changing. Now, on to the point where I probably step on some toes.







Since we began our adoption journey, I've heard just about every excuse in the book about why people can't adopt. Mostly, from other Christians. I've never asked why, it's just something that's offered. It usually goes something like this: That's so great. You're doing such a wonderful thing. I'm glad God has called you to do this. It's just not something I've been called to do. Then, the reasons why: I'm too old, I have a job, I don't have enough money, I've already got a houseful of kids, I've heard about somebody who had a really bad adoption experience, I'm not sure my husband would want to, and on and on. From elder boards I have heard the excuse that if we allow this ministry, then what other ministries are we going to open ourselves up to.

And truthfully, I'm tired of hearing all of the reasons why people can't adopt. I've heard them all for over a year now, and until now I've just nodded my head. But, I can't anymore. Maybe that was the best thing that came out of my visit to the orphanage that Thursday. I know some people think we're a little "weird" for adopting. I've had people assume I'm infertile, that I'm afraid of being pregnant, that I just want to avoid labor, and a whole host of other reasons why I might have chosen to adopt as opposed to having a baby the "real" way. I've had strangers and friends ask me why? when they find out that we're adopting. And, I'm no longer afraid of being considered weird or of stepping on a few toes. Not intentionally, but if risking stepping on a few toes means that someone else might consider adoption, it's a risk I'm willing to take.

Here's why we chose to adopt: James 1:27 -Pure and Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.







In light of James 1: 27, the answer to the question why adopt is, why not?





I wonder, why are our churches so good at emphasising the keeping yourself pure and spotless and so bad at noticing the first half of the verse? Why does the church no longer recognise its' God-given responsibility to care for widows and orphans? Could it be that today's church finds itself largely irrelevant because the world no longer sees in us the love that is to be our trademark? I think so.







Mahatma Gandhi has a saying that should cause every Christian to think twice and evaluate his life. He is quoted as saying: I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. They are so little like your Christ.

I never thought I would find myself quoting Gandhi, but I think he has a very valid point. Not that Christianity will ever be accepted by everyone. The Bible tells us that. But, the truths in God's Word might be a whole lot more appealing if those outside the church saw those of us inside the church truly seeking to live out the entirety of the Gospel. That's how we become relevant. Not the relevancy of ignoring the absolute truths and compromising what the Bible has to say about sin and death and hell and all of the other things that our post-modern society finds offensive, but the relevancy that comes through showing what the love of Christ in our lives and over-flowing into our actions looks like.

Want to show a watching world why Christianity is different? Show them God's plan for the widow and orphan put into action. I was asked last year by a non-Christian why if God is real and our God is love would He allow suffering, especially by orphans. At the time, I had no answer that could make him happy. But since then, I have wondered if one day when we stand before God and someone finally asks him why He didn't provide families for the lonely as He had promised (Psalm 68:6), if there won't be many of us who will be ashamed when His answer is, "But I did. It was yours. You were my plan for the lonely".







Want to find an effective way to share the love of Christ with a needy child? Adopt one and show them what love is, then you have an open window to show them the love of God.





Want to show the world that Christianity is relevant? Live it out in its' entirety.





Want to experience love in a way that you never have? Consider adoption.

Want to understand your adoption in Christ in a newer deeper way? Try adopting yourself. This past year has given me an understanding of what it means to be adopted by God in a way I never thought possible. And it's still happening. As Rosie bonds with our family and I am given opportunity to pursue her with my love, to love her when she's unlovable, and to watch her grow into our family, I can see a living picture in front of my eyes of what my adoption by God looks like. I am amazed by the love of a God who would pursue a relationship with me.





Now, I'm not saying that everyone has to adopt a child. That would be great, and I wish everyone could and would, but I also recognise that there are legitimate reasons why some people can't and maybe even shouldn't. Adopting out of a sense of duty or just because you feel sorry for orphans isn't enough. Adoption isn't easy. Even after all of the paperwork and waiting is done, it isn't necessarily going to be easy. If you do it, you need to be convinced that this is God's plan for your family. And so, I challenge you. Have you seriously considered whether this could be God's plan for your family? If not, then you should pray about it. Ask God to reveal His will to you and then set out to seriously explore whether He might want you to be a forever family for a waiting child. If the answer is yes, there are literally thousands of children both here in the States and all over the world, who are waiting for a family, waiting to be loved.





If not, there are still a multitude of ways that you can actively set out to obey James 1:27. I hope to highlight some of those ways in future posts.

Have I stepped on your toes? I hope not, but if I have, then forgive me, but I hope you'll use it as a catalyst to explore whether you can honestly say you are living out James 1:27 in its' entirety. If you aren't, I hope you'll take a serious look at adoption and pop back over the next several weeks to explore other ways of caring for widows and orphans.

View From My House

It's been raining this week-a lot!! I knew we were due for more rain today, but so far there had been no trouble with flooding around our neck of the woods. I left for our Dr.s appointment at 9:00. After the Dr.s appointment, I ran to Target to pick up a prescription. It started raining while we were at Target. We left and were headed home by 10:30. On the road in-between Target and our house, there were several spots where the road was covered in water. When I got within 2 miles of the house, I realized that the road was seriously flooded, but I was concerned about turning around and going back, as the roads behind me were continuing to flood. So, I pressed ahead.

Turning into our estate, the entrance road was covered in 4-5 inches of water, and the drainage system was obviously maxed out. But, no problem, we made it onto our road, only to discover that I was almost instantly in water up to the top of the grill of the van. Scary, scary stuff!!!!!!!!!! I made it to the driveway before the van started smoking and managed to get up our driveway, which was over half-way covered in water. I decided not to put the van in the garage until I was sure it wasn't going to explode or catch fire or anything like that, thanks to the abuse it had just endured. I hustled the kids into the house, called Gareth to let him know what was happening, and then went back out to see if the van was okay. It wasn't smoking anymore, so I tried and was gratified to find that it started right away. I put it in the garage and then did what any normal person would do-I took some pictures.

The cat was stranded across the road and kept calling for me to come get her. I called Gareth back and asked him how deep he thought the water was, at which point I was expressly forbidden from attempting to go and retrieve the cat or to investigate the storm drains to see if they were blocked.

When a big truck tried to come through, the waves actually came a couple of feet into our garage. So, it was back inside to start moving important papers, photographs, electronics, etc.... up high in case the water actually did make it into the house. Then onto moving bottled water, the flash lights, and the computer upstais before calling my Dad (I couldn't get back ahold of Gareth) to confirm that I should shut off the power to the house if flooding was imminent and double-checking that I knew how to do this.

And so on it went for the next hour. Then, the Cavalry arrived! The fire department arrived and began to pump water from the over-loaded storm system into the empty field across the road. The water in our yard receded about 8 feet in 3 minutes. Then, the guys who manage our estate arrived and began working on removing debris from the storm drains and the road started to drain. Hurrah!

When it was obviously not dangerous to cross the road, I put on my best "helpless female" face and asked them if they could rescue the cat, which they did. For those of you who know me well, you know that helpless female is not a role I play easily, but for Sophie, it was a price worth paying!

There is more rain forecast for the week-end and for most of next week, so we're praying for a break right now.

Day 2-Out and About in Addis Ababa and Gotcha Day!

Right, Little Miss Chicken Pox is resting, so I have a few free minutes. Having met Rosie on Monday, our Tuesday schedule was to go shopping in the morning, eat out for lunch, and then to go to the Transition Home to bring our children back to the hotel with us that afternoon.

To be completely honest with you, I really did not like Addis Ababa at first and wasn't really sure I wanted to go back out on Tuesday. Addis has most of my least favorite elements in a city. It is crowded, loud and (to my eyes) dirty. Add to that poverty on a level that I had not experienced before, and I felt really overwhelmed. This was the view from our hotel, and it was typical of the vast majority of what we saw in the city. Loads of tin shacks, all of which lie in very close proximity to each other. But, I went ahead and got myself together, packed a bag for the day, gathered my thank-you gifts for the nannies, the donations that were going to the Transition Home and headed out for the day.

Driving in Addis is definitely an experience. Part of the road are paved, but frequently you will come to large sections of road that have been ripped out and you just go anyway. If you head off of the main roads, it will be onto dirt paths, and frequently you find roads partially obstructed with mounds of dirt or ripped-paving. Our bus driver was amazing, and on several occasions we took routes I would have sworn that a bus that size couldn't go without tipping over.

People share the roads with the vehicles, and there seems to be no concept of giving way to vehicles, even if they are 20 times bigger than you are!
Most of the roads do not have lane markings, and vehicles just go wherever. On a couple of occasions we did see stop signs or traffic lights, but those were given no regard either. I asked a national about it, and his response was, "We have a democracy. That means we can go where we want to". A few of the large roads did have lane markings. At rush hour, we were on a 4-lane road. At one point in time, we counted 12 lanes of traffic using it! Horns are the most used part of Ethiopian vehicles. You honk if you want to greet someone, you honk if you want to complain about someone else's driving, you honk if you want through to go somewhere, you honk if you're going to turn, you honk to tell pedestrians not to go yet, or if you want them to go.

Yes, we did take the bus down several side-roads not much larger than this one. No, we didn't hit anyone. I'm still amazed by that. Add in the herds of goats, and you really do have an adventure.

The cattle being run down the road were more impressive, though. Once, we even saw a cow asleep in the divider in the middle of a busy main road. In preparation for Easter, thousands of chickens, goats and cows were being brought into the city. The chickens were destined to become sacrifices for the Orthodox, the goats to be dinner, and the cows to be part of the special Easter customs, which involves gathering friends and family for a 6 a.m. slaughtering, followed by the feast!

There are little shops all along the roads, and I had lots of fun looking at them. Especially all of the fruit stands.Clothes shopping, anyone? Or maybe you'd care to have a burger and a wedding cake. If you didn't own a shop, a strip of sidewalk, or just a blanket over the rubble at the side of the road, would work for setting out the things you had for sale.

In the midst of all the chaos, could you sleep? This was a sight I never did get used to-the homeless, who would sleep wherever, whenever. If they had a coat, they would put it over them, but we saw plenty of others just lying on the grass beside the road with nothing to cover them at all. In the rain, you would see homeless women squatting by the roadside, holding a shawl over themselves and their children.

What I didn't photograph, were the beggars. When the bus would be sitting in traffic, we would almost always have people begging at the windows. And, they were at the shopping areas, too. Following you along, hands stretched out, calling you Mother or Sister-the old ladies who would mime that they were hungry, young children who would rub their bellies and hold out their hands, mothers who would pull back their shawl to show you their nursing baby, the cripple who could barely hobble to the bus, the young man who was leading a blind sibling around, the leper with no legs pushing himself along on a skateboard, and all of them wanting money. I had made the decision based on others' prior experience not to hand out cash, but took bags of granola bars,fruit leather, candy and trail mix. Sometimes this was gratefully received, but sometimes there was just annoyance at the lack of cash. Yes, some of the kids were very pushy, and they would take what you had offered, stuff it up their shirts and then demand more, pushing aside others who were waiting. But overall, there was a dignity that even the poorest carried themselves with, which made the thought of photographing their misery seem wrong, somehow.

As Tuesday wore on and we were out longer, I began to enjoy Addis more. Not that the poverty was any less shocking or overwhelming, but there are beautiful aspects to the culture, too. Ethiopians are very loving to children, much more so than here in the States. The sight of every adult coming to a stop to ask their name and to give kisses when little ones were around was so much fun. The culture is very relational. I loved the people watching, especially watching people greet each other on the streets. I am sure that not everyone in Ethiopia knows everyone else, but to the foreign eye it sure can look like it. Overall, people were very friendly, and most of them looked out for the ferenge(foreigner), although I did not appreciate the guard who used a stick to drive away some of the street kids I was talking to and buying gum and kleenex from! Most of the kids knew at least a little English, and they loved to try it out on you. Some of the older ones actually spoke better English than some American teenagers I know!

Here is the market in the "Post Office District" where we shopped for souvenirs. The shops held a little bit of everything: carvings, drums, traditional dresses, scarves, silver jewellery, traditional Ethiopian crosses, t-shirt, coffee sets, purses, and books. Out on the street there were men trying to sell maps, belts, baskets and street kids selling gum and kleenex. One of the younger boys I met whittled sticks to make "toothbrushes". I bought lots of gum and kleenex and toothbrushes that I didn't need, but I was impressed with those people who were out actively trying to support themselves.


We had lunch at an Italian restaurant. Italy occupied Ethiopia for a period of time, and their influence can still be seen in the food. Yet another different aspect of Ethiopian culture, is the relaxed attitude to time and schedules. It was a common theme, that it could take half an hour for your drink order to arrive and another half hour for your meal to arrive. While this could be frustrating when you were operating on a schedule, I also appreciated this more laid-back attitude. Meal times in American society are more and more pressured and shortened, and it is nice to see the social aspects of meals enjoyed without the rush to get out so someone else can be seated, or to rush off to your next appointment.

After lunch, it was Gotcha Day!-off to meet our kids and begin life as a forever family. When I got off of the bus, there was the most gorgeous little girl waiting for me! Her nanny had gotten her ready for the day, dressing her in the outfit we had sent to her in one of the outfits we had sent in her care package and including the little sunglasses that had been stuck in the care package at the last minute.

This is Rosie with her nanny, Zanesh. I am so grateful to this lady. She was obviously very fond of Rosie, and Rosie adored her. I credit much of Rosie's smooth transition to the work that Zanesh had put in to preparing Rosie for her new family. Zanesh had Rosie's photo album out and spent a few last minutes with Rosie interpreting some basic information for me as I told Rosie that Daddy was at home with Noah and Nathan and was waiting for us to come home to him. Many of the nannies cried as we prepared to take the little ones they had cared for away with us, but Zanesh only expressed excitement for Rosie that she was going home to her Daddy. I attempted to thank her, but words and even a gift seemed so inadequate. How could you ever sufficiently thank the person who has selflessly cared for children she loves, knowing that eventually they will be taken far away?

When it was time to board the bus, Rosie was excited to go. Halfway on she had a little panic about getting on, but as soon as she was sat on my lap she was fine. We went back to the hotel, where Rosie had a bath standing up. She was terrified having never been in a big bath tub, so we settled for a standing up bath and hair wash. Then, we spent a long time rubbing on lotion, which she loved. And when she saw her new clothes I thought she was going to burst! Such a girly girl. We got her clothes on, tried on her new shoes, and then set out to fix her hair. She insisted on wearing both hairbows. I tried my best to convince her otherwise, but she was adamant that she needed one on each side of her head. So, we went with it, and Rosie went to dinner looking like this:
Once again, I was in awe of the Ethiopian's love of children. The hostess came to ask Rosie her name and to kiss her. Then the waiter came to love on her. He asked if it was okay to ask her what she wanted to eat. And, Rosie, who very much knows her mind, promptly ordered herself a "chicken cutlet". While we waited, she had a Sprite, then a glass of warm milk, some cheerios I had packed in her bag, a bag of fruit snacks, then 2 slices of bread and butter. When her chicken came she couldn't eat it all, but when my sandwich arrived and she spied the fresh slices of tomato, she ripped my sandwich apart to get to the tomatoes.

After dinner, we went back to our room, enjoyed some more bonding time with the lotion, worked on a puzzle together, did some coloring, and then cuddled on the bed for a few minutes before putting her into the crib that had been brought up for her. She settled right down, and was asleep with in 3 minutes.

Having not really slept much since leaving the USA, I thought that I would finally be able to sleep now that Rosie was with me, but then found that my mind was so active processing everything that had happened and my heart was so full of wonder at this little one who would so readily accept me as Mommy, that sleep eluded me for most of another night.