Through Her Lens

She has a smile that lights up the room.  Her joy emanates and her spirit is contagious.  She is smart and strong and witty and funny.  She loves Jesus.  She shows me Jesus.  Through her, I have come to know Jesus more intimately.  She is my gift.

Often times, I get lost in her beautiful brown eyes while thanking God for choosing me, for allowing me to be Sassy's mama.

She carries deep scars.  Scars that her smile and fun loving personality go to great lengths to mask.  And yet, she is only three years old.  Some experts try to tell us that young children will forget their early childhood trauma, but I simply do not accept that.  No, actually I flat out reject that idea.  Her scars are simply woven into her fabric and while God redeems hurts and helps us to grieve forward, some scars become part of one's identity.

But there is someone else that also carries deep scars.  A nameless, faceless person I will probably never meet this side of heaven.  A person I pray for daily and think of often.  I was reminded of that person the other night.

While watching Downton Abbey {Spoiler Alert: stop reading if you have not watched Season 3, Episode 4!} and seeing/feeling/sensing Ethel go through the painful and heart wrenching process of deciding to give up her baby boy, Charlie, for adoption and therefore come to terms with the fact she will never see him again, I simply lost it.  Lost! It!  I pictured this same scene unfolding in a tiny town in southern Ethiopia.  I imagined a person who loved her/his child so very much, who had tried her/his best to love and take care of a child, but simply could not provide for very basic needs.  I imagined this person dropping off their child on the streets, a child who was old enough to walk, and then running safely out of sight before crumpling the ground in tears, weighted down with pain, shame, sorrow, and guilt.

No parent or guardian should ever be forced to make that horrid decision, and yet so many are forced to make that exact decision every day.  Why?  Poverty, injustice, oppression, curable and treatable illnesses, and lack of support systems to name just a few.  That is the lens I often view adoption from.  Through the eyes of the person forced to make an unthinkable decision.  Perhaps that seems depressing, but it is true.  That is reality.  Adoption would not be necessary on the scale it is today if we (humanity) cared enough about each other to correct major flaws in our global systems.  But we would rather carry on with the busyness and distractions in our lives that keep us from addressing some very real needs in our world.

So, when people say our children are "lucky" or "blessed",  I certainly understand their sentiment and agree that yes, our children certainly are lucky to have safely arrived to her new family, with the hope of brighter future.  However, I think many fail to recognize that in order for adoption to be necessary, something went seriously wrong on the other side of the equation.  No parent should ever have to make the decision to give up her child.  None.  There was no "luck" going on there, that is for sure.  Only pain, hopelessness, despair, grief, etc., etc.   There was a woman or man so very desperate that they could think of nothing better to do than to abandon a child on the streets.  Could you imagine?  I cannot.  But praise God for opening our eyes to the layers of wrong in our world.  Praise God.  Their fights are now our fights.  Their hurts, ours.  Their pain, our pain.  We grieve and grow forward, embracing God's plan for our lives while never, not for one second, forgetting the truth.

God speaks through our children's past tragedies to show us his unfailing love, mercy, and compassion.  We are blessed, we are the lucky ones.  If there is any luck going on at all in this scenario it is that our lives have been gloriously wrecked and forever altered by joining God on his mission to care for the fatherless and seek justice.  It is that through our journeys into God's heart, God has given us a purpose and direction that would have been missed had we forfeited the opportunity to grow our family through adoption.

But what about you?  Have you figured out what God's purpose if for this chapter in your life?  What is God asking you to do?  Viewing the world through whose lens breaks your heart?  The orphan? The widow?  The recovering addict?  The homebound?  The sick?  What it is?  Join God there.  Say yes.

I'll close with one question and I pray that you spend time in prayer and reflection thinking about this:
Why do you think God has given you more than you need? 

Leviticus 19:9
"When you reap the harvest of your land, do not reap to the very edgesof your field or gather the gleanings of your harvest.  Do not go over your vineyard a second time or pick up the grapes that have fallen. Leave them for the poor and the foreigner. I am the Lord your God."

Balentine's Day Firsts

Before getting started, I have to say that I am going to miss, more than words can describe, the accents, Amharglish, and translation humor that fills our home most days.  I am usually left both cracking up and in awe through the day-to-day routines that demonstrate God's redemptive power in all of us.  Yet, it is usually only in hindsight that one can see how far we all have come.

Now, on to Valentine's Day.  (Or, Balentine's Day for Big Sister.)  If you know me, you will know that I can be really "bah humbuggy" about the way our culture likes to make holidays all about consumerism and consumption.  (Which is pretty much every holiday now, right?  Buy this.  Do that.  You can only celebrate properly if you have spent a ton of money.  Blah!  Bologna!)  My radar keenly picks up on how profit motives drive the marketing behind holidays big and small and how something good and pure gets warped into a money making machine.  To this, I say "Boo!" However, God has pulled off quite a feat this year.  He is softening my heart and showing me how we can celebrate fun days like today AND still keep our love for Him as the motive.  That we can participate in the consumerism aspect as little as we'd like and yet still let the spirit of love (of God and neighbor) be present in our interactions.  Let me share with you a little about the events of this past week:

The other night, after dreading and dragging my feet, we all sat around the dining room table neatly tearing, folding, signing, and sealing our 125+ valentine's day cards.  What I thought would be a nightmare of an event, full of moaning and complaining, and ending with me (mom) having to forge (using my weak hand) 100 signatures on their cards, turned into a joyous evening.  Our table was full of love and stories about the friends in their class, why so-and-so will be Larry's favorite valentine (including a specially made double starburst with the hearts facing out gift for her) and why Big Sister will NOT be handing a "your cute" card to so-and-so.  Moe was thrilled to be able to write his own name 25 times.  I was thrilled that each child happily wrote her or his name on every. single. card.  I went to bed that night a little confused, quite perplexed, and full of joy that the simple act of writing cards and sharing stories brought so much happiness to our dining room.

The spirit of love continued throughout the following day and evening as we headed to our Wednesday night church dinner and then to the Ash Wednesday service.  The service is a special and reflective time to ask for forgiveness and prepare our hearts and minds for Jesus' death and resurrection.  This year, Ash Wednesday just happened to fall the day before valentine's day.  I am not sure why, but I kinda liked that.  It seemed to bring our family close together.  We ended the evening happily, apologized for our shortcomings, and my heart felt content.  Strange.  I don't usually like these (valentine) holidays.  But, it gets better.

This morning, I woke up to beautiful flowers and a card from my husband.  Larry (my resident hoarder) told me this: "Mama, valentine's day is not about chocolate or presents.  It is about spreading love."  Those words, coming out of the mouth of my six year old, made my mama heart explode with joy.  But it gets better.  I had presented all five children with a small box of chocolates, which I fully expected to turn into a whine fest, full of moaning about why they can't eat the entire box before breakfast.  But that didn't happen.  Rather, Larry and Moe asked me if they could give their box away.  Each box had four pieces of chocolate and they each decided who would get them.  On the walk to school, Officer Stacey, our crossing guard was gifted with two pieces.  One of the teachers who corrals the students each morning in the cafeteria was gifted two as well. When Moe slipped up and ate half of one of the pieces he wanted to give to his teacher (and after explaining that it would be rude to gift her a half-eaten piece of chocolate), we put some heart shaped cookies in a bag so they could have something to give their teachers.  All was good.  Or so I thought.

Then, just as I thought we were having the perfect morning, the reality of past hurts crept in.  Even though we have been home now for two years, there are deep wounds that resurface from time to time.  Scars from her past presented, a life where fear, malnutrition, and starvation were daily realities.  When I couldn't find Sassy, I knew immediately what had happened.  She had taken her box of chocolates up to her bedroom and was hurriedly shoving them in her mouth.  We have come so far toward developing a healthy relationship with food, but there are triggers.  There are times when she seems to have so little control over what she is doing.  I have seen this so many times.  It breaks my heart.  She will lie about what just happened.  Even though my eyes saw her doing this, when I ask she will look right at me and say, "No. I did not eat the chocolate."  I will have to press her at least a half dozen times and explain why we need to tell the truth.  Sometimes she will, sometimes she won't.  The scars are deep.  Through parenting Sassy, God teaches me daily about his patience and grace and love.  While God continues his healing and redemptive work in her, he also reminds me and gives me countless opportunities to exercise that same patience and grace toward her and I truly consider this a gift from God.

In all honestly though, this is something I wish I could explain better to others.  Yes, Sassy is healthy and thriving and exudes confidence and joy, but underneath there are scars.  I think the same can be said for all of us, right?  Underneath that mask that we wear in public, at work, at church, in school and in our daily interactions, there are usually some scars from previous life experiences.  Scars that while hurt us a great deal, also helped us to grow in other ways.  They are part of us, and although I wish I could take away every awful nightmare of an experience our children lived through, I absolutely believe God will use every hurt to help them help others one day.  God is a God of new mercies and new beginnings.  God redeems all brokenness.  God is love.

This year, I am thankful that God softened my heart and showed me how to parent and participate in a fun and loving event that can and will still be centered on Christ.  Through the joyous and the painful, God is at work redeeming and loving.  Happy Valentine's Day!

Romans 13:10: "Love does no harm to a neighbor. Therefore love is the fulfillment of the law."

God's Strength Made Perfect

"How do you do this?" 

I have to admit, I usually just giggle and shrug off that question.  It's not that I don't want to answer, it is just that I honestly don't know how to answer it.  It is just that unless I really stop to think about it, I am not sure what they are asking...what they are talking about.  Do what?  What is this? 

"I am not doing anything," is really what I want to say.  I want to say that, because that is what I truly believe.  That might sound strange, but I don't see our family as really doing anything other than what God asks from each of us.  That is, to love God and to love each other.  Different people express and live out that love in different ways, and we are just living it out the way God asked and continues to ask us.  

You see, I like to look at and look to individuals and families who are doing a lot more than we are doing.  I actually keep their photos handy (I hope that's not too creepy?!) to look at throughout each day when I feel stressed and frazzled.  "Surely so-and-so is stretched more thinly than we are," I say silently for comfort.  Plus, I am truly inspired by the radical faith so many 'ordinary' people are embodying.  Some have 'sold it all and gone.' Others have began organizations and ministries to support, educate, and empower HIV/AIDS widows and mothers.  And yet many more and opening their hearts and homes to children, locally and globally, who were orphaned.  It seems God is raising up our generation of Kingdom focused people and I don't want to miss out on that fun!  God is at the helm in these stories and when God is at the helm, buckle up because it's going to be an exciting ride!  

In reality, when people ask how we 'do this', I know they are talking about logistics, busyness, sanity, and mental and emotional energy.  What I feel like they may be asking is this: "How do you parent five children, attend seminary, work part time in ministry, love your family, and have anything left over?"  
"How do we get from here to there and back again?"  "How do we make it to four different soccer games per weekend?"  "How do we stay sane?"

So, I would like to take three words to answer all of those questions:

I DON'T KNOW!

Ha!  I know that is not a very profound answer, but it is the truth.  I have no earthly idea how day after day, we get five lunches packed and five kids off to school.  How we keep track of science fair projects and stuffed animals.  How I engage in deep theological reflection and read The Fire Cat for the hundredth time and gain deep joy and gratification from both.  How the energy and resources seem to be just enough to get through each day, with not an ounce left over.  

But then I think about those questions again, and I know the truth.  That truly I am not really don't anything at all, yet it is God.  We have given God full access to our lives and therefore God is being allowed to work through ordinary, everyday, sinful, imperfect vessels to redeem brokenness and restore us to health.  The truth that left alone to my own devices and my own strength, I would have crumbled years ago.  The truth, found in 2 Corinthians 12:9 when Paul states, "[God's] grace is sufficient for you, [God's] power is made perfect in weakness.  Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me."  

So, that is the truth.  That is how we do it.  We don't.  God does.  Love does.  And now that we know the amazing things God can accomplish when we allow God access to our lives, there is no way we would live any other way.  God gave us purpose.  God gave us a mission.  And God gives us everything we need to see the mission through.  

The same is true for you.  Do you know what your mission is?  Have you allowed God full access to the life he has given you?  If not, ask.  Ask for clarity and direction and purpose.  But don't be surprised if God asks you to step WAY out of your comfort zone.  I promise you this:  once you take that first step, the following steps are much easier to take.  So go ahead, let God's strength be made perfect in your weakness.  Go after that God-sized dream or passion.  You will have no earthly idea how things are falling into place and mountains are being moved, but you will, you most certainly will, gain a glimpse of heaven and realize how powerful and mighty our God truly is.  Praise him!  

Photo Credit

Meet The Ethiopian Tooth Fairy....

I have said this many times before, but adopting older children (internationally, in this case) is amazing for so many reasons.  Not the least of these reasons being that once language barriers are overcome and trust is built, they can clearly communicate about their past, their histories, their first families, their trauma, their grief, their dreams, and their culture and traditions.  I am like a kid at Christmas when Big Sister and Sporty get into "story mode"!  Pour me a cup of cheer and I'll pull up a chair for hours...if need be.  

Keeping in mind that oral tradition, in Ethiopia, is still such a big part of how stories are handed down from one generation to another, I imagine there are just as many versions of the story I am about to share as there are subcultures in this beautiful country.  Just last week while our family was on a ski and snowboarding vacation atop a beautiful mountaintop resort in a neighboring state, Big Sister and Sporty...while arguing over who gets to rub my feet (tough life, I know!)...were on a roll sharing stories of days past and memories made.  (Photo evidence of the awesome massages they give lest you think I make this good stuff/huge blessing up! In fact, Big Sister is rubbing my shoulders as I type this.) 

 As Big Sister took her turn sharing a story, I found myself intrigued and humored.  (She tells great stories, by the way!)  She shared a story about the Ethiopian version of the 'tooth fairy' that was too good not to pass along.  The entire story made me laugh and light up, knowing that despite the many traumas and past hurts in her life, her birth mother found ways to give her a childhood as best as she could.  She found ways to pass along fun traditions, amidst the daily struggle for survival.  Some things, I am coming to learn, are simply universal.  Family love is universal.  I found myself imagining this scene she was describing play out in a land far away, by people who often do not know where their next meal will come from.  The mud huts or corrugated tin makeshift residences, the dirt roads, the furniture-less homes.  The community latrine and water supply.  Home! 

I thought the best way to share this story with you was to let Big Sister share it herself.  So, I captured a quick video of her telling the story of the Ethiopia tooth fairy....who is...A BIRD!  Watch and enjoy! 

In case you missed or were not able to understand the main parts of this story, I will summarize.  When a child loses her or his tooth, the child and caregiver go outside and sing, "Bird, bird, you can have my teeth, I can have your teeth."  (Never mind that fact that most birds do not have teeth.  Perhaps one of the few rare species of birds that do have teeth were flying around her hometown.  I do not know, but yes I did spend considerable time researching birds with teeth.  Why?  I dunno?!  Big Sister fell on the floor laughing when I told her most birds do not have teeth.)  

Photo Credit

Anyway, after singing the line about exchanging teeth with the bird, the child then tosses the tooth up unto the rooftop.  If the bird takes the tooth (and no one goes to actually check, but I assume mom/dad/guardian may take the tooth just as we parents do here in the states), then the child will be blessed with good teeth and oral hygiene.  If not, well...tough luck I guess?!   Either way, the fact that children on the other side of the world, living in abject poverty, celebrate milestones just as we do here in uber rich America, made me smile.  It filled me with hope.  It filled me with peace, for some odd reason.  We are often so wrapped up in the daily grind, our task lists, our over-programmed schedules, that we may perhaps fail to realize and embrace the universal nature and universal love of family and shared blessings.  

As we close out another Christmas, I pray that we are able to focus on gifts that really matter.  Love, mercy, compassion, kindness, bearing one another's burdens.  The kind of gifts that are often found not under the tree, but around the tree.  In those people we hold nearest and dearest.  I pray that this year we are able to cherish those gifts a little more, because at the end of the day I think we all know that the self-giving gifts we share with those who we hold close are the gifts that truly matter.  Just as Jesus giving his life for us is the best gift we can ever be given, the best gifts we can give are gifts that demonstrate selfless love.  While Big Sister's birth mother might not be here to see her daughter light up and she passes along a tradition to her new family, her mother's spirit was certainly present.  I am thankful for her selfless love and sacrifice each and every day and know that one day, in the Kingdom, we will all be united, free from disease and poverty and all pains and struggles.  

Food Wars and the Adopted Child

Food Wars!  

No, I am not talking about slinging food across the table or declaring a food fight in a local restaurant.  I am talking about a battle that seems to begin, for many of us, prior to the flight home from our child's home country.  The battle where each and every meal and snack becomes a time for a child/children to assert control over their world by manipulating perhaps one of the few things they do have control over.  That is, the food they choose to eat.  

On some levels, this can be expected simply due to different smells, textures, previous malnutrition, sensory processing issues and the like.  Food is a basic necessity for life and many, many of our children have been deprived of this necessity.  The impact of those traumas may be with us for life.  That is the reality we are working with.  However, there is another reality.  Namely, we need to eat each and every day in order to be physically, emotionally, and spiritually healthy and our food choices greatly impact how we feel and operate in each of those categories.  Allowing our children to simply eat as they wish does not benefit the child, parent, or anyone else who has to interact with our children.  I often hear people say, "I want my children to have a good relationship with food and therefore don't force her/him to eat anything."  That sounds nice and may indeed work for some families (I do not believe there is a one size fits all solution here), but I also want my children to have a good relationship with healthy food and therefore do encourage, motivate, and incentivize them to eat the healthy stuff so that they can be rewarded with something they prefer.  If they choose not to eat the meal, they are also choosing not to be rewarded.  

On still yet other levels, I believe these are control battles.  Heck, when all else in your world seems to be spinning out of control, who wouldn't be grasping for that one little thing that can be controlled.  Our children did not choose to be born into poverty.  They did not choose to watch their birth parents suffer horrible illnesses and die.  For the most part, they did not choose their new family.  They did not choose their new siblings.  They did not choose where they would or would not go to school in their new country, in their new family.  The list goes on.  They will however choose to turn their back on a plate of American food and pout like a three-year-old at each and every meal.  It is frustrating beyond frustrating.  I get it!  But, by putting myself in their shoes for just one minute, I can feel the anxiety taking over. The anxiety that is interwoven into our children' fabric.  But, I also am a mom of five strong-willed kids and I believe nutritious food is absolutely essential to overall well being.  I cannot, I will not, hand over my sanity and meal time (times three, plus a snack or two daily) to the gremlins.  It would be anarchy in our house.  I guarantee it!  Because of these reasons, our family has chosen to be unwavering and firm regarding healthy food choices with the hope that our children develop a taste for fruits, vegetables, whole grains, nuts, and other unprocessed healthy food.  Because let's face it, the taste does not come naturally here in America...land of processed, manipulated, over-sugared, over-salted, over-fatted, convenient, pre-packaged food.  And because nutrition, fitness, and integrated well-being are extremely important and high on my list of 'mom goals', this is indeed a battle I choose to engage in, keeping in mind my goal is never to punish or withhold, but to develop the taste for healthy food that will facilitate an overall healthy lifestyle.

While I understand this approach is not for everyone and I certainly respect diverse viewpoints, we have had great success with this model.  Sporty, who turned his back to the table for months after arriving home, will now gobble down plate after plate of fresh vegetables.  He will now eat Every. Single. Food. that he adamantly refused when first coming home.  Big Sister initially refused anything that she suspected was a tomato (insert anything and everything red).  She has only been home three months and gobbles down the reds, greens, yellows, and everything in between.  Do they absolutely love everything put on their plates?  Of course not!  Is that OK?  Most definitely.  Will I ever force a child to eat what is on their plates?  Never.  Will I reward children who do eat healthily with ice cream or a another treat?  Yup!  We all have favorites and least favorites.  However, my mama heart and mind rest easy knowing my children are filled and fueled with the best nutrition I am able to provide for them.  And while they may think that me giving in to their desires means they can trust me to meet there needs (because let me remind you, food is also a huge trust issue for our children), I tend to take a different approach.  Most importantly, then, is that my children trust that I will provide them with the food they need to thrive.  All of my children witness me eat healthily and exercise daily.  While they may pout and grunt at the vegetables on their plate, I remind them that vegetables are what makes mommy strong and fit.  And I know that being fit is one thing they admire about me, because they tell me so.  With that being said, I use it as leverage and try to lead by example.  Because at the end of the day, our children will more than likely follow not what we are saying, but what we are doing.  

One note of caution:  it is absolutely essential to understand your child's past trauma and hurt when incorporating food strategies.  For a child that was severely malnourished either prenatally or postnatally, had food withheld as punishment, has sensory processing disorders, or any other disorder or delay, it is critical to discuss nutrition with your pediatrician and other specialists.  We came to our decisions after ruling out serious medical and emotional issues tied to food.  Please see the video clip below for Dr. Karyn Purvis' approach to food issues.  

The following video clip from Dr. Karyn Purvis, the expert of all experts on parenting children from hurt and broken backgrounds, provides clinical expertise and psychological rationale that may help us better understand our children's real hurt.  She also suggest ways of dealing with food issues and urges us not to make food a "blood bath."  Keeping in mind that I am not nearly as calm as Dr. Purvis and rarely have classical music playing in the background, our family has modified her suggestions to fit our crazy, strong-willed household and while we do not make food issues a "blood bath", everyone must eat her or his vegetables and whole grains if they would like anything sweet or more preferred.  End of story. 

Growing Closer Over Coke, Tej, and Tibs

Tonight was a game changer.  A totally unplanned, impromptu, let's get out and get to know each other better game changer. 

God said go...laugh a little, do what she wants to do.  Let her have coke and you some wine. Enjoy each other's company and listen with an open heart.  

So, we went.  To a local Ethiopian restaurant where the sights, smells, and sounds were home-sweet-home.  I watched happily as Big Sister sniffed and listened her way back to Ethiopia.  I was filled with joy.  Filled with sorrow.  

Transitions are tough.  Grief is tough.  Healing from a hurt past is tough.  Parenting five kids is tough.  Being immersed in an English classroom, when your primary language is Amharic, for nearly seven hours per day is tough.  Trying to help Big Sister with her homework after her brain has already been fried for the day is tough.  Trying to balance the demands of marriage, parenting, school, and extra-curricular activities is tough.  In short, life is tough.  For all of us.  1 Corinthians 15:58 tells us, "Therefore, my dear brothers and sisters, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain." 

And I absolutely believe that.  I believe that God's heart for the orphan is undeniable.  You don't have to take my word for it, ask anyone on this journey.  I believe that this work will never ever be in vain.  God is so amazingly close to the orphan that I feel his presence like never before.  His mercies are new each day and his love is unfailing.  But, it's still tough.  Every day.  Sometimes minute by minute.  And so we went out for some laughs and fun.

And. it. was. fun.  But is was also something else.  It was a safe space from Big Sister to open up to me, her mom, and share whatever was on her mind.  On her heart.  To not feel pressured by the demands of school or learning English or fitting in socially or measuring up to anyone.  And, share she did.

Somewhere between taking our first bite and asking for refill, she started talking about her brother.  The one she adores.  The one closest to her heart.  The one 8000 miles away.  The one she may never see again.  She told me all about him and how he looked out for her.  When it was 8:00 pm, he made sure she was indoors and out of harms way.  He taught her that nothing good happened on the streets after 8:00 and because she loved him and respected him, she listened.  She went indoors and stayed out of harms way.   She told me many other stories.  Heartbreaking stories.  Healing stories.  I listened fervently.  I prayed silently.  I sat in awe of God's faithfulness.  How he works the details when we are willing to be obedient.  

I saw her fidgeting.  She fidgets a lot.  She was gearing up for something, so I sat still.  Patiently.  Taking in my surrounding and missing Ethiopia.  Her smells and sounds.  Her beautiful people.  I sipped my Tej and she her coca.  I took another bite of gomen and miser wat folded inside injera.  We were eating from a shared plate.  My vegetables surrounding her tibs.  I adore eating this way.  It is so very intimate.  

"Mom," she said.  "You and your sister.  You miss your mom, right?  Sometimes you cry because she die."  "Yes, of course," I said.  "I miss my mom a lot.  A whole lot."  "Mom," she said.  "I miss my mather too."  "Mom?"  Tears were now overflowing from her eyes.  "Yes?" I asked.  "Mom....is my mather dead?  Did she die?  How will I know?  She very sick, mom.  She die soon.  How will we know?"  

Now, we were both crying.  I told her I would do everything I could to find out her mother's health status.  I encouraged her to write a letter even though her birth mother had prepared her for the permanence of her adoption and more or less told her to move on, do what she needs to do, and simply pray for her.  I believe she was taught to suppress her emotions, as a sign of strength.  A cultural norm, more or less.  Conversely, I teach her to express them.  I am so very thankful when I can see an outward sign, any sign, of what is going on inside.  

She told me she would write a letter.  I promised her it would get delivered.  

By this point, Big Sister was happy to have had a coca, our meal was finished, and I was slowly finishing up my Tej, a "deceptively sweet wine that masks its high alcohol content."  It tastes like Ethiopia.  It was yummy and I was feeling lighter.  Too light, actually.  So, we walked across the street to a local Christian bookstore.

The rest of our night was filled with something we have oddly enough yet to do: bonding via shopping.  The Tej had me feeling good and I let her indulge.  A devotional book or three?  Sure!  A DVD?  Why not?  Throw a few CDs in too.  Sunglasses?  Find two pairs!  

We left the store and headed to a hair salon.  While at the restaurant, we were told of a local Ethiopian woman who could relax and style Big Sister's hair the way she has been asking.  

Unfortunately, by the time we made it to the salon they were closed for the evening.  However, I think we both had a wonderful evening with Christ, enjoying food, drink, music, good company, and a few consumables.  

We grew closer.  I can feel it.  She came hope happy and relaxed.  Will we still have many trials ahead?  No doubt!  However, I need to learn to listen more intently to God's voice telling us it's OK to take a break.  To relax and enjoy.  To sit and listen.  To sip drinks that we adore.  To not worry about tomorrow for tomorrow will worry about itself (Matthew 6:34).  

Father God, I thank you for the special gift you gave us tonight.  The gift of enjoying one-on-one time that is so hard to manage in our daily lives.  The gift of safe spaces and open hearts.  The gift of intimate connections and healing.  The gift of your heart for the orphan and how that has so transformed every aspect of our daily living.  Thank you, God, for all that we see and all that is unseen.  Thank you for my daughter!   Thank you for her mother!  Help me to love and cherish them the way that you do.  

The Adopted Child and Socially Awkward Behavior

The other day I heard a friend calling up to Sporty, who was near his bedroom window.  "Hey, do you want to come out and play basketball?," his friend asked.  Without missing a beat, Sporty responded, "Sure, I'll be right out!"  Now, I know what some of you are thinking.  So what?  What is the big deal about that?  Kids have these sorts of exchanges all of the time.  While that it certainly true, those of you who have experienced seemingly socially bizarre behavior with your adopted children know that it is a huge deal when our children learn to interact in socially acceptable ways with adults and other children.  I believe this past summer was our turning point! 

When we first came home with Sporty a little over 19 months ago (Wow, has it been that long?!), this exchange would never had happened.  In fact, the reality of how this situation has played out in the past had me scratching my head for quite some time.  (And sometimes apologizing to the 'victim'.)  Sporty, a child who was by all means very social and active at the Transition Home in Ethiopia, seemed to display socially awkward or downright rude behavior in most social situations here in America.  This went on for months.  A friend would go out of his way to stop by and try to include Sporty in some activity and Sporty would turn his back on said friend and refuse to answer.  An adult would ask him a question and Sporty would look at the ground and mumble some incoherent response.  Sporty's soccer teammates would try to start up conversation only to be met with a sullen facial expression and silence.  (Fact: I had more conversations with his teammates while carpooling to and from practice and games than he had with them the entire season last year.)  What was going on?  At home, Sporty had normal interactions with me and his immediate family, and his teachers were singing his praises.  He was cooperative and would play with others at school, but outside of the school setting he seemed to be at a loss for how to act socially.  Why the bizarre behavior in social settings?  

For those of us with older adopted children from Ethiopia, these awkward behaviors seem inconsistent with the social and engaged children we met at the orphanage or transition home.  Read: at the transition home.  In her or his home country, in her or his comfort zone.  Of course their behavior will be different in America, at least initially.  Everything is different.  Ethiopia was a place that he or she was familiar with and here, well, he or she is just learning about the new environment and I can only imagine how stressful that may be.  Do you like to be called on or called out unexpectedly in class or at a meeting?  Probably not.  Our children are called out daily...whether at school, church, or just out and about in the neighborhood.  Yikes!  All eyes on the new kid...

With Big Sister arriving on the scene this past summer, I had the chance to view her initial social interactions with veteran eyes and saw something that I probably missed last year.  Our adopted children, already under so much stress due to this huge life change and probably filled with anxiety beyond measure, were trying to hide.  I believe they were trying to make themselves invisible as a means of coping with the anxiety.  I imagine them having an internal conversation along the lines of this: "Maybe if I don't make eye contact, this situation that is making me feel distressed will go away?"  Or this:  "Perhaps if I don't answer, they will forget about me and I can just return to my comfort zone."  As parents who may want for our children to be connected socially with peers, these situations can be both heartbreaking and frustrating.  However, with compassion, consistent coaching, and lots of reassurance, our children can learn how to respond in socially acceptable ways and build confidence along the way.  Most of us are social creatures and crave acceptance and belonging.  We all want to live a purposeful life.  Our children are no different.  Just because they may not know how to respond, does not mean they do not really want to learn how to respond, no matter how hard they may fight us initially.  It is our job to teach them and coach them and eventually, we hope, things will start to flow.  

Last Spring, after prayers one night Sporty came right out and asked me how he could make friends.  He must have been wrestling with this for some time and came to a place where he was comfortable and secure and ready to take the next step.  So, we had a little chat about making friends, filled with examples and illustrations.  This past summer, Sporty spent a good portion of every day with neighborhood friends...playing sports, swimming, riding bikes, etc.  They had a summer like the ones I remember: outdoor all day with friends, home only to check in and eat.  And I was a happy mom.  

While Big Sister, perhaps due to her gender, craves social interactions and is thrilled to be in a classroom with peers and on a soccer team with girls her age, she has some socially strange behavior of her own.  She growls, friends.  Yes, growls.  And chews things she finds on the ground.  Two nights ago, my mother-in-law gave her a birthday gift.  Not knowing how to respond or how to be grateful, when asked what she thought she was going to do with the gift she said, "Throw it in the trash."  Yup, that is what she said.  Side note: I am becoming a damage control expert.  So just when we normalized one child socially, another has backfilled.  That is OK.  We will work through her anxieties as well.  One day at a time.  If you ask her a question and she doesn't respond appropriately, please do not assume she is being rude on purpose or blowing you off.  Trust that I am coaching and reassuring her at home and that her behavior may simply be rooted in anxiety.  Her previous life was not a walk in the park.  It taught her not to trust.  She is now learning that it is OK to trust and that will take time.  God heals! 

I pray that one year from now I will be able to report on the relationships she has formed and the hurdles she has jumped.  God is walking with us, carrying us some days, and telling us to pick up the pace on others.  Some days, God simply asks that we survive.  Being an active part in God healing a broken child is extremely difficult.  Sometimes I don't have an ounce of energy left at the end of the day.  I crawl into bed and pull the covers up.  I thank God for transforming me on this journey and allowing me to take part.  I thank God for another day in his creation and ask that he provides all the wisdom, discernment, and energy that we all need to make it through another.  I thank God for new mercies each and every day.  Then, I crash.  Joyfully, humbly, and purposefully having exerted all of the energy I was given for the day.

Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed,
  for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
  great is your faithfulness.  -Lamentations 3:22-23

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Adoption: A Beginning, Not The End State

This morning at worship, our pastor asked how things were going with Big Sister and the overall transition.  I said things were going well, that transitions are of course stressful, and that it was amazing to be able to witness the healing taking place.  The brief dialogue made me reflect on the bigger picture of adoption, one that we might not think about during the hectic paper-chase stage, the painful stage of waiting for our child or children to come home, or the euphoric homecoming and honeymoon period.  In the bigger picture, the one which led us to adoption in the first place, we adopt...we choose love...because we were adopted and loved first.  Adoption is a story of redemption, of healing, of taking broken things and making them whole.  In short, adoption is the story of Christianity.  While the completion of an adoption might very well feel like crossing the finish line, the truth is that another race begins almost immediately.  

I hope you take some time to catch your breath at the finish line, re-hydrate, and prayerfully prepare for the marathon of redemption and healing that lies ahead, which you will take an active role in and in the process be transformed yourself.  It is a very painful journey, have no doubt, on in which you will cling to your Savior like never before, but also a journey in which you will actively witness and bear witness to God's healing and redemptive power in a broken world.  During this marathon of your new life, God may very well open your eyes to bigger and more painful issues.  At least, that is what happened to our family.  Those same issues and injustices that necessitated adoption are now painfully and joyfully interwoven into the fabric of our family.  As I have said before, I do not believe adoption is God's "Plan A" for children.  And while adoption may very well be a family's Plan A for adding children, praise God, the mere fact that children need to be adopted points to issues much larger than a child being placed into family.  While God's hand is certainly all over that entire matching process (as our house full of dynamic and unique personalities can attest),  I believe that God uses adoption to point our heart toward the underlying injustices, the abuses of position and power, and the way in which the church is or is not responding to the least of these.  Adoption is not an end state, it is a new beginning!  Not just for your child or children, but for every person involved in your own adoption journey.  

I pray that those words resonate in your heart and that you allow God to open to your eyes to whatever issues God chooses.  For those of us with adopted children at home, we understand that each child's brokenness is not the same.  Some have dealt with physical abuse, some with sexual abuse, others with neglect and abandonment, some with simply the absence of a loving and caring presence.  Others may have had all the love in the world but not enough resources to feed, clothe, and educate.  However, underneath all of these issues there is another layer.  Again, the injustices that are rampant in our world leave a fertile breeding ground for these superficial fleshy issues to take over.  And take over they do.  Whatever issues our child has faced or dealt with, I believe, are now the issues woven into our family.  How can I pretend I do not know?  I can't.  This truth has gloriously wrecked my life, praise God! 

The apostle Paul, in 2 Corinthians 6:18 tells us, "I will be a Father to you, and you will be my sons and daughters, says the Lord Almighty."  Like an earthly father, our heavenly Father does not just give us new life and then depart.  What would happen to a newborn baby left at the hospital without loving care and subsistence?  Our God stays with us, guiding and correcting, teaching and growing us.  And so it is with adoption.  Just as our heavenly Father adopted each of us into his family, when we adopt a son or daughter into our family and assume all parental roles and responsibilities, God walks along side of us, using our flawed bodies and minds to bring healing and redemption to another human being.  God heals!  If you don't believe me, pop in any day of week and witness God's work in his children.  If you read their life stories, you would expect them to be broken beyond repair.  If you read their life stories through the eyes of God, you would understand that God has beautiful plans for all of his children.  However in a broken and unjust world, we cannot sit back and expect God to pour miracles from the sky.  We, brothers and sisters in Christ, ARE the miracles and are to be the miracles to others bringing God's story of hope and redemption to the world.  

As such, I hope that each of you along this wonderful and wonderfully challenging road, begin to see adoption not as an end state to be reached but as a lifelong journey.  While your homecoming day will certainly be remembered and celebrated for the rest of your lives, as it should be, I believe there is more to the story.  There is more to our story and there is more to yours. 

What else is God trying to teach us?  Where does God expect us to go from here?  How could God be using adoption to transform our own hearts...weeding out self-severing tendencies?  What does God want us to see?  What does God want us to do?

Those are just some questions bouncing around my mind.  How has God used your adoption journey to open your eyes to other issues?  

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Voices In Her Head

I have found that one of most amazing blessings of adopting older children is their ability to communicate past experiences...that is, once we find the correct key that unlocks their trust door.  

Finding that key can be a bit tricky, but I have found success by simply making myself available...physically, spiritually, emotionally, and mentally...to my children.  This doesn't have to consume twenty-four hours a day (sometimes a mere fifteen minutes of dedicated energy does the trick) but rather just needs to present itself in an authentic way to the child.  My children need to know I am for real.  That my love and role of mother is for real.  I need to assure and reassure them that I will be a rock in their lives, regardless of circumstances.  That even though I am far from perfect and filled with parental flaws, they can count of me to be there for them...to have their back...and to always advocate for their best interests.  Once they start to feel secure, the trust door begins to open and the things revealed are both horrific and healing.  

Sporty and Big Sister have been given such a special gift.  Both children are able to communicate not only the circumstances surrounding their past, but also paint a vivid picture of their emotions connected to those experiences.  Both children are incredibly empathetic and able to tune into the emotions of those around them, including me, their mom.  Sometimes, the conditions of our home and everyone's temperament at a given much are just so, and my children let their guards down and want to discuss anything and everything.  Last night was one of those special occasions with Big Sister.  

In my grief post, I talked about one of the various faces grief can wear.  There are more layers to grief than layers in an onion, but digging in and reaching back to pivotal crisis moments have helped open up discussion in our home.  Big Sister has told me a number of times that sometimes when she goes to sleep at night, a "big, bad, scary man appears in her doorway".  She mimes a bear-like figure with a scary face to show me what he looks like.  I knew that sleeping in a new and quiet bedroom would initially be scary, as she was accustomed to many other people sleeping in close vicinity, so we talked about ways to deal with the "scary man" image and I reassured her that he was not real.  We talked about the power of prayer, the evil one, and the fact that she is always able to come down the hall and into my bedroom, should she ever be scared.  

Last night, she added a few key details to her story and now, praise God, I have a more complete picture of the scary man.  This image represented a very real person to her and as such shows up only when she was feeling sad, insecure, and alone.  He represented a person who had done a lot of damage, a lot of tearing down, who wrecked her trust, and who proved to be a person capable of harm.  Big Sister went on to tell me some incredibly sad stories and even let me know what the scary man was telling her to do when he appeared.  She trusted me enough to tell me what was going on...even if just in her imagination.  Though she risked humiliation or worse...as her past experiences have taught her.  She trusted me!    And I hope I responded in a way that moves us forward.  Toward healing built upon trust.  When I speak about how adoption is all about God, this was one of those moments so much bigger than myself.  So much bigger than psychology or counseling, not that professional help isn't a valuable tool, it certainly is.  God is just so much bigger and I promise you, shows up in ways you could never plan.  Anyway, I told Big Sister that the scary man is not welcome in this house and should he appear, she is allowed to scream, "Get out of here!!!" at the top of her lungs for all I care.  Heck, I will scream it with her if that seems to be of any help.  We can even shoot him with our homemade marshmallow guns if that lightens the mood.  We talked about the things scary man was telling her.  I was able to reassure he that this is a house where although not perfect, no one will ever physically harm another.  Harm, whether physical or emotional, is not part of God's desire or plan for any relationship.  

We grieve forward.  

What was truly amazing to me was learning about the special people God put in her path during her time at the orphanage.  That, I learned, is where she learned how to pray.  Where a very special woman took the time to teach her the power of prayer and the good desires God has for his children.  Big Sister told me that whenever she prays, the scary man goes away.  As she said those words, I was reminded of the words my own my mother said to me when I used to get scared.  Almost identical teaching moments.  I was able to pass along some of my mother's wisdom for praying away these sorts of situations and both Big Sister and I seemed to be at peace.  And, as our Living God may have it, it was a very special women...at an orphanage...who taught my mom how to pray.  While I would never believe that God wants any harm to fall on any of his children, I was reminded once again of Romans 8:28 that says, "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."  

As I am continually reminded, there are many voices speaking to our children.  (There are many voices speaking to all of us, to be sure!)  Voices from the past, voices from the present, voices from heaven, and voices from the evil one.  Good voices, bad voices, voices that build up, and voices that tear down.  Big Sister has even beautifully articulated what this sounds like to her, and I am so thankful for this gift.  She told me last night that when she is happy, when she allows herself to be vulnerable and trust, a voice in her head says, "No. Be sad. Be sad. Be sad. Don't be happy."  Another voice, possibly mimicking the fight or flight response her body is producing with all of this newness tells her repeatedly, "E-tee-opia, go!  E-tee-opia, go!  Must go...E-tee-opia."  And yet, the still voice of God presents itself in the smile that is starting to come easy.  The voice that allows her to let her guards down at all.  The voice that tells her to trust me, her mother.  It presents itself in those moments, when although I can't put my finger on exactly what is different, I know things are, in fact, different.  

We are grieving forward, rising from the ashes. 

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One Month Home

Only God!


Only God can take a hesitant, unsure (albeit beautiful) smile such as this:

And turn it into this easy, big, and confident smile in one month's time:

Seriously, look at that huge grin!  I love it.  (What you cannot see in this picture...what caused her to grin from ear to ear...was the seeing my high school and college graduation photos at my parent's house.  No, I will not post those.  Ha!  (Friends, you may never realize how much some children value the opportunity and access to a good education!  Big Sister talks about school every day.  She is nervous, but oh so excited!)  It never ceases to amaze me how quickly healing and bonding can come, once we...the have's...respond to God's call to care for the have not's.  If you are feeling the tug, please do. not. be. scared!  Of course, it is far from easy...and some transitions are way more difficult than others, but man...we are no where near the place we landed one month ago.  Just looking at that big smile reassures me that me are making progress.

I cannot believe how much has been accomplished.  God is on the move, no doubt!  Here are some highlights from our first month home:

• Learned to ride a bike.  Mastered riding a bike.  
• Learned to swim.  Is confident enough in the water to venture into the deep end of the pool.
• Her English is improving rapidly.  She reads and does schoolwork for a few hours each day.  Most nights, I have to turn off her bedroom light so that she stops reading and goes to sleep.
• She is assimilating well into our family and culture. She picks up on social cues and responds accordingly.  Please and thank you and excuse me are spoken easily and with confidence.
• We have had one tooth pulled, one cavity filled and sealed, and spaces put in to allow for braces to be put on.
• We are caught up on all vaccines and are "paper ready" for school. We are registered to begin classes in the Fall.
• We have completed Grades 1, 2, and 3 summer course work for math (and some English) and hope to complete Grade 4 in August.  
• She has bonded with all members of our family and Sporty has taken her under his wing to include her in all neighborhood social activities.  
• She has made American friends and Ethiopian-American friends.  She loves being social.
• She is engaged in her Sunday School class and has attended VBS willingly and happily.  
• She trusts me to comfort and reassure her.  She allows me to mother and nurture her.
• She has a good relationship with her father.  
• She is an amazing big sister to all of the Littles.  She is loving and kind and nurturing.
• She jumps right in with household duties without being asked.
• She has been a special gift to our family each and every day! 

In short, things are moving along quite nicely.  We have grief and a hurt past to contend with, but I feel God moving us all forward to bigger and better plans.  We have been so blessed by her presence in our home that it is nearly impossible for me to remember what life was like before she arrived.  

Father God, thank you for trusting us.  For trusting us in our imperfect selves to parent and love your children.  Even when we don't think we are up for the challenge, you are always there to comfort, reassure, and guide our steps.  I cannot imagine what life would be like had we not realized that our purpose in this life was never about us.  That our purpose was to serve you by loving others the way you loved us.  Please continue to provide all that we need to get through each day and help keep our eyes set on you and working toward your purpose on our lives.  We love you!  We trust you!  We thank you!  

Keep us keepin' on...we know it is all about you!

A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling. 

-Psalm 68:5

Things Revealed

There have been a number of times in my life where a certain thought, idea, or feeling popped up, seemingly out of nowhere, and implanted itself deep inside, not willing to budge or to be challenged.  "I am true," the silent idea seemed to echo....  

Where did this idea come from?  Who put it there?  Why am I so certain this idea is true, when there may be no logical explanation for it?  

Those are some of the questions I tend to throw back at the intangible idea that is now ingrained deep within my person.  Sometimes I try to deny it, rationalize it away, or tell myself I am just letting my imagination run wild.  Sometimes, my imagination may be running wild.  However, at other times I have no doubt God placed this truth in my mind and in my heart for his glory.  The truth is just so loud and perfectly timed and peaceful that I know it comes from my heavenly father.  

Have you ever had a truth revealed to you in a such a way that it would be nearly impossible for anybody to tell you otherwise?  


Francis Bacon once said, "Knowledge is the rich storehouse for they glory of the Creator and the relief of man's estates."  Sometimes knowledge is gained through traditional avenues such as education, training, and/or experience.  Sometimes, God simply imparts it.  Either way, I think it is important to recognize, as Bacon did, that knowledge is for the glory of the Creator.  


Months before coming home with Big Sister, I began to sense God trying to direct my attention to her bedroom.  Then, the revelation hit.  I saw it.  I felt it.  I could see and sense what God was trying to prepare me for.  I have even shared this story with some of you before she arrived home.  Big Sister would be hurting and scared, that was certain.  I saw her (not physically, but this is what I felt as revealed truth) sitting on her bed crying.  The giver of truth let me know this would be happening quite frequently.  I shook my head in agreement and prayed for wisdom and discernment.  I understood not to be overly concerned when she wanted to retreat to her room, but to be cognizant of her emotions and check on her frequently.  She needed to know that I was there and I cared.  She needed to know I would not abandon.  Note: this particular scenario did not happen with Sporty or Sassy.  There were distinct revealed truths for each of them, to be sure...but nothing having to do with wanting to be alone. 


For the first two to three weeks after arriving home, we were all enjoying the Honeymoon.  Everyone was on the their best behavior, wearing big smiles, and celebrating a whole bunch of firsts.  Everything was smooth sailing.  Almost too easy, to be honest.  One night, I voiced just how easy things were going to my husband.  (To which he shook his head at me like I was crazy and said something along the sarcastic lines of 'why don't we add five more?!')  The very next day, things were no longer so easy.  Ha!  God, your timing is hilarious.  I get it...you are in control and I should learn to keep my mouth shut.  :-)  Adoption and orphan care is never easy.  It's always messy.  I should have known better.  


Regardless, just as God prepared me and showed what would be happening, Big Sister has been wanting to retreat to her room a lot.  She can be easily overwhelmed and I know is hurting deeply.  She hides it well on the surface, but I know the truth.  She is scared and she feels alone.  Sometimes her eyes look so distant.  When she feels overwhelmed, she goes to her room, locks the door, and cries on her bed.  She reads and writes and processes.  I go to check on her frequently.  I encourage her to come out and join in, but don't force the issue.  Too much is already out of her control.  She is out of her room enough during the day, getting exercise, eating healthy, playing, and engaged with the family.  So, I am not overly concerned.  I would probably be more concerned had God not given me the peaceful reassurance that this would be happening.  Everyone else in our home needs to be bribed or coerced in order to retreat to his or her room, so this is a new experience for all of us. 


I can only wonder what must be going through her mind.  What she is feeling.  How alone she must feel at times, even though she is surrounded by the love of a noisy child-filled home.  Orphan care is messy indeed.

I don't completely understand the in's and out's of how God communicates with us, how God reveals his will.  I am not sure anyone does, but I have learned that his communication is always peaceful.  Never anxious or fear-filled.  His message is firm and reassuring, like a parent  encouraging a child, "You can do it!"  I have also learned that it is hard to hear God's still, quiet voice when my noisy, rambling thoughts are left to run free.  I must silence my own fears, my own thoughts, and simply rely on my Father's guidance.  


Of course, there are times when I would love to see the big picture.  There are times, plenty of times, when I want more information than God is willing to give, but I know God knows me better than I know myself and wanting what is best for me, simply supplies what is needed in the present.  For now, I know that I have a hurting child who needs me to be present.  My marching orders were quite simple:  Show up.  Be present.  Love big.  Mainly, don't forget to show up.  


Isn't that what we are all called to do?  Really, it can be that simple at times.  Show up and allow God to work through us.  But don't forget to show up!  


I love the Old Testament book Daniel.  I find it quite fascinating on many levels.  In the second chapter, Daniel is praising God for revealing the meaning of the King Nebuchadnezzar's dream to him.  Daniel says, "Praise be to the name of God for ever and ever; wisdom and power are his....he reveals deep and hidden things; he knows what lies in darkness; and light dwells with him."  


What Daniel and Bacon have in common is that they both realized that God reveals things for his glory, not our own.  Wisdom and truth belong to God.  If God happens to reveal a truth to any one of us, it is always for his glory.  We needn't know the reasons or the in's and out's, as I am learning.  We don't need to know what will happen five days or even five minutes from now.  We simply need to show up and love big.  When we do this, God fills in the gaps in any and all ways necessary.  


After all, this whole story...that story that is being written each and every day...is about God's purpose for God's creation.  We are just servants called to love big and show God's love to a hurting world.  A cool thing happens along the 'love big road'...God reveals his truths and we grow closer to him and to his purpose in our lives.  It is a messy road.  Seldom easy and rigged with traps, the road traveled on the path to our eternal home could be one in darkness or filled with light.  I am forever grateful for the lamp at my feet and light on my path (Psalm 119:105)! 


For now, I ask that you please pray for Big Sister.  While God prepared my heart for her struggles, it hurts me to see her in pain.  I know that we are healing and that healing takes time.  We are still building trust, learning about each other.  I feel like I have known her for years, although she has only been home one month.  We have come so far already, but we have a long road ahead.  Please pray for our wisdom as parents, that we can handle situations calmly and compassionately and in ways that are useful for building each other up.  Please pray that we continue to grieve forward, in hope.  Thank you for journeying with us!  

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