Orphan Care
The Mother
From March 18, 2012…
________________________________________
There is a woman out there somewhere who is still grieving.
She is grieving because one year ago she gave birth to a tiny, beautiful little girl. A little girl she didn’t keep.
Did this woman give her daughter a name?
Did she trace the delicate, fair skin of her daughter’s face, and does she still dream of her daughter’s round cheeks and button nose?
How many days did it take to sleep through the night without waking up to feed her little one, the one who wasn’t there anymore?
Does she know that her daughter was loved? That her daughter found a home and arms and comfort?
And does she know that her daughter is in heaven?
I ache for Paige’s birthmother. I’m sure that she thinks of her little child today and every day, wondering if her baby got the help that she desperately needed. This woman must have been desperate. I think she knew that Paige needed more than a poor worker’s salary could provide. So she gave her up. She abandoned Paige to the life of an orphan because life as an orphan was better than death. And Paige’s mama loved Paige so much, that she was willing to break her own heart to give Paige a chance at life.
Because, you see, Paige had a very complex and serious heart disease.
Giving Paige up, leaving her alone, tore something sacred out of this mother’s heart. But she loved her baby and she knew that she was not able to provide adequately for her. She hoped that someone else might.
Did we provide adequately?
We were waiting until she was stronger before putting her body through the risky surgery that she would need. She was never too cold. She was never too hot. She got to go outside to breathe fresh air. She was given the chance to learn new things, like rolling over. Paige had just learned to roll over, and as I watched her balancing her chest, I dared to hope that the heart inside was being supernaturally healed.
Paige was prayed for. Paige was sung to. Paige was doted upon.
But the question that wracks my heart is, “why didn’t God allow for Paige to spend those 6 months in her mother’s arms, if she was just to die anyways.”
Because just as my heart is right now breaking, remembering Paige, the mama’s heart is surely cracking too.
I know that she remembers.
I hope that somewhere, deep inside her heart, she knows and has peace about her little pixie. I hope that she feels rest and comfort in her soul, knowing that Paige is in the one and only place where there will be no more tears, no more pain, no more desperate abandonments and no more orphans.
Especially today, on what would have been her first birthday.
In honor – in celebration – of Paige’s life, I am raising money to provide another little angel with the heart surgery she so desperately needs. Go to www.forliuyiandpaige.blogspot.com to find out how you can get involved.
________________________________________
Hannah Samuels
When Hannah traveled to China in 2002 with her parents to adopt her sister Elisabeth, she fell in love with the country and people. In 2004, when her other sister Naomi was adopted, she started dreaming of going back. It took 5 years for that dream to come true. She now serves in a foster home for special needs orphans in China. Hannah spends her days studying, writing for the foster home and on her personal blog, Loving Dangerously, and most importantly, holding babies. Hannah loves the adventure of living overseas with her family. It’s not always easy, but it’s always worth it.
________________________________________
Congrats to Cydil Waggoner who won the giveaway for the book A Cord of Three Strands!
How Dare I Not?
My mother has a friend, an elderly man, who was preparing to go on a cruise. This first required a flight and before leaving for the airport the man, knowing that he might be walking on some uneven territory, grabbed an old cane, a walking stick that had belonged to his grandfather. It had sat in the corner, used only occasionally.
The man and his traveling companions stood in line for security at the airport. They noticed that those to whom they had entrusted to keep them safe were eying his cane very carefully, examining it from every angle. Suddenly, to the extreme surprise of the gentleman, the agent pulled on the cane and out whisked a very long, very sharp sword.
Chaos ensued. The travelers were rushed away, interrogated, but fortunately were deemed harmless and allowed to travel, sans the antique threat to national security.
It’s been dry around here lately. My heart, I mean. My spirit is parched.
Last November I spoke at a retreat on the extremely weighty issue of how God uses our suffering for His glory. I believed that God had called me to tackle this topic but the stress of it was overwhelming. After reading every book I could find on suffering, listening to every podcast, and pouring over every bible verse, and trying not to throw up in between sessions, I was drained. I had immersed myself in the Word for weeks and when it was all over, my sin nature immediately said “No more! Bring on the chick lit! DVR up the drivel! I need a break from all things deep and godly!”
It’s disgusting, actually.
About this same time, I discovered things about the adoption industry in Ethiopia that ushered in more nausea. Overwhelmed by information and confronted by the shocking ugliness of sin, plus accepting that bringing our daughter home is probably not on God’s agenda for 2012 caused my spirit to withdraw even more. Am I angry at God? I don’t think so. Am I jaded and cynical? More than ever before. Am I in despair? Yes.
Throw in the all the other worldly diversions and my bible has sat neglected for weeks.
My soul almost recoils at the thought of reading it. My short prayers consist mainly of, “I’m really sorry God. Thank you for loving me anyway.”
Oh wretched woman that I am! Who shall deliver me from this body of death?
This past weekend I went to a retreat in Atlanta, designed just for moms who have or will adopt. My soul was refreshed by being around other wonderful, loving, God-seeking, hysterical moms who share my heart.
But there was also a constant reminder that this business we are in, this orphan care business, requires our hearts to confront the gut wrenching consequences of sin on a daily basis: corruption, rejection, racism, illness, disease, or the exhaustion that ensues from the commitment to help heal the broken heart of a child.
And as I sat in the dark surrounded by like minded sisters, my mind wandering while godly speakers spoke of godly redemption, a Godly voice whispered to me, How dare you?
How dare you decide to neglect Me now?
Indeed, how dare I?
During the time preceding my marriage, I was immersed in the word of God. Between BSF, Beth Moore Tuesdays, an obscene amount of time to myself, and equally hungry friends who enjoyed discussing theology late into the night, I dove deep into Scripture almost daily. My future husband and fellow BSF leader was one of those hungry friends. Our marriage, all nine stressful years of it, has been blessed and happy. I am convinced it is because we were both bathed, powdered and lotioned in the Holy Spirit for years before we walked down that aisle.
Yet here I am, in the adoption process, entering straight into the lair of the Enemy, answering the challenge from the prince of this world with some dust from a dried up brook. I’m daring to call my own a child whom he had assumed would be his – and I’m choosing banality over the Living Word of the One whom he hates the most.
How dare I?
Hebrews 4:12 says “the word of God is living and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.”
I’ve taken that sword, sheathed it, hidden it away in a corner. I’ve occasionally pulled it out as a cane, a whimsical decorative piece, leaning on it briefly only when I felt exceptionally weary.
I have neglected it, but it has not neglected me. From the dusty corner it has continued to judge the thoughts and attitudes of my heart – my selfish, desperate, lazy heart.
Things must change.
Things will change.
Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.
Matthew 11:29-30 (The Message)
I need a real rest given to me by my Sword, my Cane, my Crutch, my Savior – the only One who condescends to enter this broken heart.
Then I will whisk out that Sword and brandish it against all who threaten His plans – especially myself.
How dare I not?
________________________________________
Missy
Not your typical “mommy blog,” Missy’s beautifully-written musings run the gamut from witty and light to deep, thought-provoking and prayer-invoking…often simultaneously. Her blog touches on anything and everything: the nitty-gritty of daily life with four small children, social/political commentary, the calling and pursuit of adoption, and the ups and downs of walking faithfully through life with her husband and for the glory of God.
Tension
We’re experiencing the tension of being foster parents.
Our foster baby’s mom has come into the picture for the first time since he was born. He’ll start to have regular visits with her next week.
There is much tension in my heart as I want the woman who birthed him to know how much we love him and how we have done everything we can to protect and nurture him.
And, I want her to know that SHE is loved, because I know this life hasn’t been easy for her. She’s where she is in life because of some things that aren’t her fault.
And, I want her to know I’m not the enemy. That I want the best for him. Whatever and wherever that may be.
I want redemption for her: restoration for her body, her spirit, and her life.
But, I love this sweet baby boy who currently lives in our home. As all this has played out this past week, I’ve wanted to grab him and hold him and not let go.
And, I want to make her earn the right to see him because she’s left him for the last three months.
I want to grab her face in my hands and say, “Don’t you know what you’ve missed? Was it worth it?”
But, I realize that she has given me a gift for the past three months. And her gift is the result of a life that has been littered with heartache and devastation.
And there is the tension.
We need loads and loads of prayer as we navigate these new waters.
________________________________________
Leslie Word
Leslie has been married to her husband Brian for a little over 2 years. They live in Montgomery, Alabama where Leslie works for a nonprofit agency and Brian is a student pastor. They are passionate about caring for the orphan and have helped start ONEfamily, an adoption, foster care, and orphan care ministry in their church. Their free time is made up of watching football, eating Mexican food, and spending time with their rambunctious puppy, Knox. They have chosen to adopt first and are currently fostering a little guy and awaiting a referral of one or two children from the Democratic Republic of Congo. You can read more about their adventures here.
Following a God-agenda
I’ll admit it. Sometimes I sit in the playroom with a baby in my lap and wonder if anyone will ever adopt some of these children. I know what their special needs are. Words that are probably foreign to many are now part of my regular vocabulary… but that doesn’t make them any less scary for the potential mamas and babas. Seeing these words – these diagnoses – on a child’s file can’t do anything but make the kids seem more needy… more hopeless.
But do you know what I’ve been learning? I’ve been learning that it’s not the people who have adoption agendas that bring these sweet babies home. It’s not families who have necessarily decided to adopt from a specific country at a specific time for a specific reason… no, it’s not that at all.
It’s families who have a God-agenda driving them. They’re the ones who bring home kids who might not make it. Kids who may have many surgeries ahead of them. Little girls and boys who may just never learn how to behave.
And that doesn’t mean that it’s any easier for these families. Just because they’re not happily jumping into this ‘pool’ and instead are being bounced off of the diving board by an all-powerful God doesn’t mean that this adoption is going to be easy or safe. Parenting, loving… it’s going to be rather scary, I think.
I’ve seen some of the needs here. I’ve met little girls whom I know will have lots of trouble attaching and behaving, if they ever figure it out. Children who probably won’t grow up normally; little ones that might not make it through the unexpectedly expensive and draining surgery, if they make it up to the surgery at all.
The word palliative is scary. So what happens when that’s the word that the doctor gives after looking at your child’s medical file? Or maybe you see the word “delayed” pop up much too frequently on her file, and you wonder what it really means.
There’s a lot that goes on in an orphan’s life between the special needs listed on their adoption paperwork and their real physical, emotional, and psychological condition. Sometimes gains are made when they get home, sometimes they slowly regress. So often the sweet almond-eyed Asian beauty you bring home is nothing like who you expected him or her to be.
But I think that maybe I’ve figured it out. Maybe I now know why families bring these unexpected blessings and unanticipated struggles into their lives.
Because they don’t have a choice.
Someone put them on a God-roller coaster, and there’s no way to get off until the ride is over. A picture on an advocacy site pulled a heartstring that caused a lump in the throat that led to sleepless nights, and the rest was history! Suddenly that long, long list of heart defects and grim “doctor’s opinions” didn’t matter at all. The established fact that this child might not even live until Travel Approval was a nonissue. Daddies are crying, and Mama Bears go into full-swing paper chase mode.
And there’s nothing that they can do about it.
God’s given them a mission. Scared out of their wits, these families go forward. They’ve never met these children before, yet something inside of them has gone into overdrive, and they know that they have to do whatever physically possible for their children.
There’s a huge risk to being willing. Who knows where God will meet you, plop you into one of His amazingly scary roller coaster rides and off you’ll go. Screaming to get off because it’s scary is 100% normal, from my experience. Deep down, the ride is exhilarating because you know that it’s all-God. He’s not safe (but don’t worry, you won’t fall off of the roller coaster), but He’s good, and He has the whole situation under complete control. Even your frazzled brain and confused heart.
________________________________________
Hannah Samuels
When Hannah traveled to China in 2002 with her parents to adopt her sister Elisabeth, she fell in love with the country and people. In 2004, when her other sister Naomi was adopted, she started dreaming of going back. It took 5 years for that dream to come true. She now serves in a foster home for special needs orphans in China. Hannah spends her days studying, writing for the foster home and on her personal blog, Loving Dangerously, and most importantly, holding babies. Hannah loves the adventure of living overseas with her family. It’s not always easy, but it’s always worth it.
Surrounded
As I write this I’m surrounded by kids. Half of them are Chinese orphans that are HIV+. Half of them are a combination of my wife and me; and all of us living in China. How we got to this place goes a little like this. My wife and I moved to China in 2008 with our first two biological kids. We wanted to study Chinese and be a light in whatever way we could. We went home for 6 months in 2010 to have our third child. When we returned to China, our lives took a dramatic turn.
We got a text late one night saying that there was an orphan who was put in isolation because she was HIV+ and had been abandoned. Our friends were writing a mass group of people in our city to see if anyone would donate money for her to live in a foster home or would be willing to take her in. My wife and I quickly made a decision that would impact the rest of our lives.
Within 3 days, Lily moved in with our family.
11 months later, two more HIV+ orphans needed a home. My wife came to me and suggested that we take them in, I suggested she was crazy. Less than a month later, they too were living with our family. That put our family at six kids under six.
And now, I want to share something new that my story is teaching me; it’s this, I’m broken.
Doing things that are bigger than our abilities is good for many reasons, one being, we become innately aware of our own brokenness. It’s in that brokenness that we can turn to God and find Him in new ways. Since our foster care journey began over a year ago, I’ve had many moments where I’ve been angry, moments where I’ve cried in frustration, and moments where I’ve had to take some honest looks in the mirror. Our life of fostering three kids and raising another three has shown me how much more I have to grow. Through it all, I’m reminded of my desperate need for God, for His miracles and for His help to get me through each day.
Maybe as you’re reading this you’re finding yourself nodding in agreement or realizing that you’ve been (or are) in the same place I am. My encouragement to you is this–you’re not alone. Not for one second.
My story right now is also reminding me of old truths. Of how my brokenness and weakness are where He is strong. That my God doesn’t give up on me even when I fail. That God’s love for me isn’t based on me meeting some condition. Of how He said He would never leave me. I’m also reminded of how amazing it is to be a father to six wonderful kids and how I wouldn’t change anything about it.
I don’t know where our story is going, like most things, it’s still incomplete. What I do know is this: I will remain surrounded by my amazing children and by my amazing God.
What are some things your journey has taught you about yourself and God?
________________________________________
Matt Peterson
Matt and his wife live in China with their three biological children and three HIV+ foster children. They hope to adopt their first foster daughter Lily when they turn 30. You can see more pictures of their family and read more of their journey here.
Fear Not
I often think of the foster children who have passed through our home. Each one of them has been special — God’s creation in tiny packages. Each of them has come with “issues” and each of them has made me face my own fears and insecurities. What I have discovered is that my fears and insecurities are insignificant in the face of my calling.
We knew from the beginning that we wanted to foster/adopt children younger than our biological son. Our age limit was (and is) “No children who would end up in the same grade at school.” We made one exception – a little girl who we agreed to take “just for the weekend”. She was 2 months younger than our son, cute as a button, and had more personality than anyone could imagine!
“What do I call you?” she asked. “Well, my husband calls me ‘Drew’ and my friends call me ‘Nancy’. Most children call me ‘Miss Nancy’ or ‘Momma’. You call me whatever you want,” I replied.
“I’m going to call you Selena!”
“Why Selena?” I asked, confused.
“Because you’re a nice lady! You’re nice like that lady I saw in that movie and her name was Selena!”
Yes, she called me Selena for the remainder of her stay.
She played happily with our son and was ecstatic when my husband brought her a Barbie doll with bright pink hair before he had to leave for a business trip. She told me over and over what a nice lady I was.
Other than telling me frequently that she disagreed with her “NanNan and PopPop” and “them other people” about her mom’s inability to care for her, she had not said much about her mother. She had talked of seeing her brother soon but that was pretty much it. What an easy placement!
She had come to us in the wee hours of morning already asleep, so it was on the second night that we actually had to do “bedtime”. This is a time I always dread with new placements, especially little ones. But I had deceived myself into thinking everything was fine and she would have no issues. I got the kids ready for bed, read them a book, prayed with them and blessed them and sent them to bed — the usual routine in our house. Then this sweet, spirited little girl wandered back down the hall from her room and stood next to my chair with tears streaming down her face.
I held my arms out to her “What’s wrong?” I asked.
She began to wail, “I want my REAL mom!”
I didn’t know what to do, so I did the only thing I could. I held her and let her wail.
“When can I see her again?”
The thing is, during those first days (especially on weekends), there are even fewer answers about a case. No affidavits files yet, investigation is not finished, visitation has not been established yet.
“I don’t know.”
More crying. So we rocked and cried . Yes, I cried too. Then I told her that we could pray for her mom.
“Dear God , Take care of my mom and help her do good so she can take care of me and my brother.”
It was not until much later, when she was finally calm and I had tucked her back into bed, that I realized something. She had said to me the one sentence I had hoped never to deal with — “I want my REAL mom!”
I always thought that would be a scary, heartbreaking moment that would crush my spirit and make me want to give up. It was scary and heartbreaking — for her. For me, it was a moment in which I wanted nothing more than to comfort her and dry her tears and show her some love. I did not notice my fear because it was not about me. It was about this precious person God had placed in my care. It was about doing what God called me to do — to”help the orphans…in their distress”.
She stayed with us “for the weekend” and I gave in and let her stay another night too…in truth, I would have selfishly let her stay forever. She left our home on Tuesday morning to be reunited with her brother…after a visit with her mom.
“Bye, Selena! Thanks for being so nice!”
I went back inside as they pulled out of our driveway, teary-eyed. As with every child who has come and gone, my heart was forever changed and God removed another fear. As a foster parent, I never know who or what is coming next. I do know that God called me to it and that I have nothing to fear.
________________________________________
Nancy and her husband Chad have been married 15 years. They have two biological children – a daughter, Hannah, born in heaven 8 years ago and a 6 year old son, Joshua. They have been foster parents for almost two years and have fostered 12 children in that time. They are currently in the process of adopting “Little Man”, their 17 month old foster son whom they have parented since he was 12 days old.
{Advocating} For the Strong Hero
“Who will be my buddy?”
These are the first words I heard Peter speak (in Mandarin).
It was Day 1 of the Bring Me Hope summer camp for orphans, and Peter was waiting with eager anticipation as he watched the campers get matched up with their buddies. As an exhausted staff member, I had previously decided to not have a buddy that week.
Plans changed.
With one look at this little boy, I knew we were supposed to spend the week together. I walked across the room and grabbed Peter’s hand, announcing I was his buddy. The smile that erupted on his face is etched in my memory forever. During that first day, Peter and I bonded more quickly than any other child I had every been matched with–evidenced during Day 2′s water gun fights. For over an hour, Peter positioned himself between me and the others shouting, “You can’t shoot her! If you shoot her I will get you!” I laughed as I watched him race around, trying to protect me by shooting all the other kids with water.
As the week progressed, my laughter turned into sorrow as I saw this precious boy yearning for love. If I spent one moment with another child, Peter would become jealous. He thought he had to work harder to earn my love. He served me food, filled my cup with water, gave me his toys, stole candy from other children to give to me, and even wrote me notes and drew pictures. The pictures always told the same story. He carefully colored a strong prince and one princess. When he gave it to me he said I was the princess, and he was the hero.
Even though he had a soft heart, Peter was strong. He tried to hide the fact that he wore a diaper because of being born with a myelomeningocele (spina bifida), disappearing for short times to change himself. When he returned, he pretended like nothing happened. I watched all of this and decided that Peter was my strong hero.
Friday came; time to say goodbye. I had been dreading this moment all week and wasn’t sure how Peter would respond. Hist strength faltering, he held my hand tightly as we walked to the car door. Before he got in, a small tear fell down his cheek. The first tear I had seen all week. Hesitating for just a moment, Peter turned around and hugged me tightly. As I wrapped my arms around him, a personal responsibility for him grew in my heart. He may be leaving, but I was his advocate.
The car pulled out of the driveway. As tears streamed down my face, it began to pour rain. I looked heavenward and asked the Lord, “Why is he alone? Why doesn’t he have a family?” The reply? “Becca, you can speak loudly on his behalf.”
And so I am. Would you consider bringing this little boy, my little brother, into your family?
His words are still in my heart: “You’re going to find me a family, aren’t you Becca?” desperately loving me to his best ability during the week when God redefined love for me.
This little hero (b. 9/18/2001) is currently on the shared list waiting for his family to find him. A family can use any agency to bring him home.
Hey everyone, my name is Becca Bolt and I live in California. Since my parents adopted in 2003 and in 2005, my heart has grown into a crazy love for the vulnerable. They need voices to speak up on their behalf, and I knew I could be a voice. I am still a student at San Diego Christian College and will graduate in a few months. Wherever the Lord leads me (which is looking like China), I know I will be loving the helpless, for that is where His heart is.”
Adopting {lots and lots and LOTS of babies}
When we started the paperwork to adopt Emery, I thought and prayed deeply about the impact and impression it will make on our family.
Could I handle the unknowns that were sure to come?
Surgeries, doctors visits, therapy sessions, emoptional scars, family counseling, attachment issues, etc.
The possible negatives could mount up quickly if not kept in check with God’s ability to heal.
Now, 6 months in, I’m finding I have so much yet to learn. So many days that I wonder if the choices I am making as a parent are the right ones. I struggle. It’s hard.
My dad always says:
Anything highly worthy of doing is the hardest thing you can do
and he’s right…oh so right.
But there is another side to the challenge…it’s the reward. today, I was present for something God needed me to see…one of the many rewards of adoption: its impression on my family.
When we sit to eat, he often asks if we can buy more chairs for the table so we can make room to adopt more babies. He talks of filling up our house with rooms and beds and kids. His heart is being captured by God’s love for children in need…what a beautiful sight!We’ve talked openly about orphanages. What the conditions might have been like for our sister. We’ve looked at pictures and considered what it would feel like to be one of those children. We’ve talked about birth parents and answered honest questions as best we could.
But we don’t overtalk about it.Nonetheless, the boys “adopt” everything. They “travel to china” to adopt a baby nearly everyday.
Sometimes they make cardboard box ships and set sail, coming home with a vessel filled with newly adopted stuffed animals
Sometimes they schlep stuffed animals from their bedroom all the way downstairs one by one, carrying each one carefully on their journey across the world.But today, I was struck by their deep understanding of what an orphanage is like…even taking on the role of orphanage caregivers. They gathered babies and lined them up in beds. they paid special attention to the sick ones, and went down the line offering food and band aids.
I wrote down some of their conversation, for fear I would forget such a precious moment. I couldn’t for the life of me find the video camera. It was MIA, of course.It went something like this…Foster taking the lead and Rowan repeating and adding accessory comments:”Rowan, hold that one carefully…she needs surgery soon. gentle, ok?”
“Now this one, put her over here. she’s so tiny!”
“Don’t worry babies! your mommy and daddy will be here soon!”
“We’ll take care of you until they get here.”
“Don’t cry sweetie! it’s ok!”
Foster: “Let’s adopt all of them!!”
(me, full on weeping)
(pointing to Emery)
“Look, i look good care of them!”(It was then that I was called away from my secret post of photoshooting and sobbing to come and be the mommy for all of the babies.)Their play got me thinking. Would I have had the courage to talk with the boys deeply about these real life situations without emery coming home? Would I have made a point to share with them the hurt of so many children (140 million to be exact) and the hope of adoption?I already know the answer. I would have been too afraid to trust they could handle such truths. such pain. I wouldn’t have given them enough credit to be able to consume deep sadness and allow God to produce hope.Because that’s what God does.
He produces Hope out of despair.There are many many things in life I don’t understand.
I’ll never know why Emery was left at the gate in front of a government building at one day old.
I’ll never know what her mom was feeling that day or if she thinks about Emery now.
Does she wonder where her small baby is? Is she searching for Emery the way I am searching for her?
Does Emery have more brothers and sisters?
Most likely we will never know
and even harder, Emery will never know these things either.
There are hard questions.
Adoption comes with a lot of questions, and often, few answers.
I feel a deep, paralyzing burden for her future pain and the fact that no matter how much I love her or care for her…no matter how many years I have longed for and made plans for her…it’s never enough to heal the hurt of abandonment.
But it’s not my job to heal.
I can’t produce Hope out of heartache…
but our sweet Father can
He has an incredible plan for my children
and I have a feeling that Emery’s brothers will play a vital role in God’s plan for her healing
because He does have a plan
A grand and beautiful plan.
Being a part of it is better than I ever could have dreamed.
Angie Weldon
Clint & Ang have been married for 7 years and have 3 incredible kids – Foster is 4 yrs, Rowan is 3 yrs., and our sweet baby girl, Emery whom we adopted from China. We love China and have spent lots of time there as English teachers. Angie is an avid photographer and etsy seller, and Clint is a man of all types of adventure. our boys are kind, sweet, wild boys of adventure who talk endlessly about their baby sister. Feel free to follow us on our blog.
One Daddy’s Love Letter
Below is a beautiful letter my husband wrote to our foster baby. For privacy reasons, we will call her “Sweet Pea.”
Dear Sweet Pea,
Today I paused from my work, and I saw your face. Those large round eyes were staring into mine. Your toothless smile curved my own lips upward. I really, really love you. Last week you ate solid food for the first time and rolled over on my living room floor. I have heard your precious giggle and then scream until your face is red. You know each of my kids and light up when they talk to you. I have fed you, changed you, burped you, wiped your tears, drunk in your baby smell, lost sleep at night, and prayed for you. You have my heart. Four months ago, I did not even know you existed. Today the thought of giving you up hurts my stomach and fills my eyes with tears. And yet, that looks like what is going to happen.
The day we found out there was a relative who wanted to have you, our family ached. We tried to be strong when we told our kids, saying this was a great thing for you … what we really felt in our hearts came to the outside though. So instead, we all cried together. You see, I am your foster dad, but inside I am your daddy.
God gave me the chance to bridge the time from when you really needed a home to when you would go to a permanent one. You should know my family has filled that time with love for you. You should know that we are the ones who were blessed. You should know that I often pray you will get to be with us forever. But that is in God’s capable hands.
Some day it will probably be hard to picture your face, but I will remember you. Someday, all too soon, you won’t remember me at all. But even if that comes true, it is okay, because the prayer I really want answered is for you to know Him as Lord and Savior. I hope someday, a long time from now, you will close your eyes for the last time here and open them to take in heaven for the first time. I really, really want to be there to see that. Little girl, it appears I am only a small part of God’s plan for your life, but our love for you has taught me something priceless.
When we learned that you would likely be leaving us, my wife asked, “Can we really keep doing this to ourselves and the kids?” I said yes. You don’t foster children in need because it is easy, convenient, or offers emotional highs. Hey kids, pay attention here; we won’t stop doing good when it hurts. You don’t withhold love because it costs you … see Jesus on the cross. You want to follow Christ? Let His strength lead and be willing to do the hard things for His glory.
So sweet dreams and thanks for the lesson of love.
Daddy
Originally posted on Mom Life Today
________________________________________
Julia DesCarpentrie
- Julia DesCarpentrie, aka: Mama, hey Honey, Jewel, MOMEEEE, yo Sis, oh Mother, Julie … depends on who needs me. I answer to the love of my life (who also just happens to be my husband), a drama tween, and three very rambunctious superheroes, and toddler diva. Several years ago we handed our safe little family over to God and told Him to take control. He buckled us in on an adventurous roller coaster that rocketed us to China to adopt our youngest child, spun us closer to His heart, and plunged us into the south where foster care once again changed our hearts and family. I can usually be found behind the wheel of ‘Mama’s Monster Truck’ (aka the family minivan) on the way to dance, tae kwon do, scouts or school. The laptop travels with me and most of my writing is done waiting in the school pick-up lane. Read more of her ramblings here.
________________________________________
Please join us on our new Facebook page to see posts as soon as they are published and find other helpful information as well as to be connected to our community.
You Are One
What If?
You were misunderstood, isolated, never held, never educated, had to wash your bedpan, had no concept of mom or dad, weren’t allowed to touch anyone else, but were actually perfectly normal by all appearances (except one unseen diagnosis)?
As crazy as this sounds, this is the story of Xiao Ling, a 3 year old from Zhonshan, China.
For many reasons, HIV is not something China has a lot of experience dealing with. Subsequently, many of the same misconceptions, misunderstandings, and unjustified fears of years past are the norm. Xiao is HIV positive but is being dealt with as if he has leprosy and can’t be touched or isn’t worth educating. Through a random posting, I encountered this article about Xiao, and it has touched something deep within me and Melissa.
I should probably back up and explain why. In November, we attended an annual fundraising banquet. It’s extremely encouraging to be around so many like minded people wanting to defend the fatherless. The theme was ONE, that you can help one, it only takes one person to make difference, etc…something we’ve always shared with people who ask why we’ve chosen the path we have for our family.
Heading into the banquet, Melissa and I were at the point of praying for where God would lead us next on our orphan advocacy journey. We both had prayed and agreed we were not supposed to go down the traditional adoption path again; fill out application, pick a country, wait for a referral, etc. We simply agreed we knew we were to be at the ready when God calls to act, and this is where we’ve been for many months.
In the midst of the banquet, while David Platt was speaking, our new path became apparent to me. We were to advocate for the orphaned in China who have been diagnosed as HIV+. I didn’t mention this immediately to Melissa as I needed to make sure this “stuck” if you know what I mean. We’ve all been swept up in the emotion of an event to only wonder later what in heaven’s name were we thinking?! The clarity around this never subsided in the coming weeks, so I finally shared my heart with Melissa at the next opportunity. I told her we should make it known that we are willing and ready to help ONE child in China who has been diagnosed HIV+. She hardly blinked and said YES.
Very shortly after, while searching adoption and orphan stories, I found the above article and simply sent it to Melissa because it was in line with our discussions. Not so much to say “here is a child,” but to begin the discussion around the apparent need. If you read the article, it states this boy is not adoptable (which isn’t correct), and it didn’t state what orphanage he is in. Through some internet sloothing, I believe we’ve found the orphanage and have talked with an adoption agency who has previous experience getting HIV+ children adopted into the US. They have indeed been able to help us locate him, and we are now waiting to hear what can be done for him. At the minimum, he needs someone to go there and love on him.
So, at this time, we are advocating for Xiao. Whether he is to be a Freeman some day is unknown but we are trying to see if there is a foster family near him willing to take him or anything to get him out of his “jail” like conditions.
He is ONE boy.
Made in the image of God.
Who needs ONE person to make a difference.
Please join us in praying for Xiao and how God can use us to help and advocate for him.
________________________________________
I’m an Educator by trade, father of 5 (2 internationally adopted), love participating in triathlons and have been a Christian since my early teens. I am currently the Vice President of Academic Affairs for Virginia College’s online division based out of Birmingham, Al and quickly becoming overwhelmed (in a good way) with volunteer work with Lifesong for Orphans and their international orphan care ministry along with organizing short term missions recently at our church. Read more from Chris and how God has already worked on behalf of Xiao on Chris’ blog.
