14
Sep

Protected: A Delay

September 14, 2010

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10
Sep

Officially broken

September 10, 2010

Ever heard of the Talus bone? 

No? 

I hadn’t either – until yesterday.

It is a bone in the ankle and apparently I have broken a piece off of it.

Actually, my tendon ripped off a chunk of my talus – to roughly paraphrase my doctor’s description.

Yikes! 

3 X-rays.

A few weeks of physiotherapy.

8.5 weeks of crutches.

And now I have the boot. 

A Roboboot.

And next week I will bump it up to the next level with a visit to the orthopedic specialist.

FINALLY.

I would be so thankful if you all would pray for healing and for wisdom for the specialist.

I started to read up on it via Dr. Google, but quickly realized that it was more than I wanted to know.

And suddenly travelling to China in the New Year seems altogether too soon.

I know my God is in the details, but will you come together with me and pray that this is dealt with soon.

I so want to travel to meet Samuel in person.

 

 

 

3 Comments
28
Jul

This and That

July 28, 2010

I’ve been playing at the absentee blog owner these days.  But I’d like you to meet my new best friends:

The Crutches

And…

Ms. Walker

 

Yep, 2 X-rays later and I’ve been pretty much off my feet for the past 10 days.  It’s just a sprain, but it seems to be taking its time healing up as it is in a bit of a funny spot across the top of my foot.  Darn flip flops, you betrayed me with your sporty cuteness. 

sigh…

 

On another note, Garnet has been up to his usual cuteness.  He was looking a bit like Shaggy from Scooby-Doo.  He’d look at us with his chin tipped up in order to try and see beneath his

bangs (Am I allowed to call them that on a boy?).  Stephen took him to our friend’s to get a buzz cut.  The whole week beforehand he spent telling us he wanted hair like Uncle S. (my brother who has buzzed his entire head to nothing but a polished sheen).  Atractive though it may be, Steve told our friend to leave him a bit of hair so he wouldn’t have to deal with sunburn. 

Well, our little guy hopped out of her salon chair rather perturbed!  He wanted hair like his Uncle and that was that!  That’s all we heard about for those first few days and then one day he bent over as I was talking to him and what did I see?

 

 

Oh yeah.  He’d tried to take matters into his own hands!  LOL

The funniest bit was the fact that he didn’t hardly miss a beat.  He wasn’t even embarrassed to be caught (not like him at all!).  He just kind of sighed the long-suffering sigh of a five year old.

{Perhaps I ought to take his style preferences more seriously!}

In hindsight, he did wake up that morning claiming to be Curious George!

 

All in all we’ve been up to purging the house with a few ice cream breaks.

 One of those gems I have been unable to part with finally ended up at the Sally Ann. 

These are my two boys’ favourite movies from when they were preschoolers.   I think I could still recite every word of them!

Wiggle Bay was beloved by Garnet since the week he came home & Fred Penner was watched so much that even though it got fuzzy in places, it was still the top pick movie of any given week by James between the ages of 3 and 5.  Good memories.

 

Faith and Garnet took some time to dance the other day.

And here’s a beauty shot of our ice cream lovin’ princess.

 

And a HUGE thank you to everyone who’s fetched my crutches, watched my children, schlepped me around (thanks Mom!) and generally taken care of me.

Especially my dearest, oldest boy James, with his new title of Chief Cook and Bottle Washer! 

Thanks Son!

2 Comments
14
Jul

So I got called a control freak parent today.

July 14, 2010

Now, I may be a bit controlling at times (Yes, I know.  No one in my real life is surprised.)  I may even be a bit of a freak of nature.  But a control freak parent?  I never thought so. 

Let’s have a little English lesson, shall we? 

con·trol

/kənˈtroʊl/ Show Spelled[kuhn-trohl]

–verb (used with object)
1. to exercise restraint or direction over; dominate; command.
2. to hold in check; curb: to control a horse; to control one’s emotions.
3.to test or verify (a scientific experiment) by a parallel experiment or other standard of comparison.
4.to eliminate or prevent the flourishing or spread of: to control a forest fire.
5.Obsolete . to check or regulate (transactions), originally by means of a duplicate register.
 
 
Sooooo I suppose I do exercise restraint over my kiddos.    ahem
 

freak

/frik/ Show Spelled[freek]–noun
1. any abnormal phenomenon or product or unusual object; anomaly; aberration.
2. a person or animal on exhibition as an example of a strange deviation from nature; monster.
3. a sudden and apparently causeless change or turn of events, the mind, etc.; an apparently capricious notion, occurrence, etc.: That kind of sudden storm is a freak.
4. Numismatics . an imperfect coin, undetected at the mint and put into circulation.
5. Philately . a stamp differing from others of the same printing because of creases, dirty engraving plates, etc.
6. Slang .
          a. a person who has withdrawn from normal, rational behavior and activities to pursue one interest or obsession: a drug freak.
          b.a devoted fan or follower; enthusiast: a baseball freak.
          c. a hippie.
7. Archaic . capriciousness; whimsicality
 
I am bit unusual compared to the majority of other parents I know these days.
 
Uh oh –  perhaps that stranger knew me better than I thought! 
 
 
 
And this turns out to be the best way for me to get into something that I has been shifting in our home since our trip (well, actually, beginning on our trip). 
 
You see, when we brought Garnet home at age 3.  We sheltered him (I think this is what the person saw in me = control freak parenting).   We made sure we were the numero uno in his world.  We worked hard at creating our own little microcosm in the form of our family.  We had to go back to square one and teach him what a family was.  We had to teach him that he didn’t have to deal with the world on his own (at 3!).  And it worked.  He has his struggles to be sure and as we hit each developmental milestone we see behaviours and emotions pop out that we thought were banished.  Only now I am hesitant to even believe that they will ever be banished.  I think that they will be there under his skin for the rest of his earthly life.  His beginning is, of course, what makes him who he is today and who he will develop into tomorrow.  I have the full knowledge that Jesus can walk with him through this and that what He did on the cross created a new start for Garnet.   But, on the flip side, will the shadow of the past ever be completely gone?  No.  It will always be there somewhere deep inside.  His perspective on it has the ability to change though.  That is what we ache to see in him.  A confidence deep down inside that comes from the ability to build on what was to what will be.
 
 When Grace came home last fall we tried to do the same thing.  And I don’t think we were successful.  (I know it’s only been 6 months – there’s lots of time!) 
 
For example, in China, we had been advised  by all in the “know” (attachment therapist, other APs, our very experienced facilitator), to simply let her bond to whomever she would on our trip.  Meaning that she should find her safe person or people and hang on, realizing that once we got home we would resume our parenting and lifestyle as we did with Garnet.
 
Grace very obviously chose Grandma. 
 
My folks had travelled to China to meet Garnet and came again for Grace’s adoption.  And we are so thrilled that they did (Just so you know Mom & Dad!).  They were an incredible help.  They have a strong empathy and avid interest in our family’s connection to China. They have made connections to our facilitator.  They have (especially my Mom) invested a lot of time learning about adopive parenting, trauma, special needs, and China’s social and societal customs.  Also, our kids respond well to them as travel companions and disciplinarians as the need arises (although the disciplinary part is rarely seen – I don’t know where they get their stamina from!). 
 
So when we were in China.  Grandma came first and then Mama.  Everyone else may as well have stayed home.  (Although I’m glad they all came because oh.has.it.been.good. to have you all be in the knowabout Grace’s life.  It has helped to reaffrim that I am not crazy and that I saw what I saw and experienced what I experienced.  KWIM?)  Once we got home she grieved.  Oh how she grieved!  It had begun in China and just seemed to grow until in enveloped every one of us.  IT became all consuming.  And I’m not talking about a few days or a week, but months! 
 
If an adult adoptee or Grace herself should read this in the future, let me explain that this is not the point of my long ramble.  She needed to grieve.  Still does at times.  She will probably always have that hole right there in her heart, just as we see it to this day in Garnet.  I am not complaining about her grief, rather I am concerned about our part in it.  And that leads me further into my ramble.
 
We spent months not sleeping, making contact with her loved ones in China, pouring over her photos and having her recount in her early days crazy Chinglish, just how much better China was.  How much she ached to be there.  How much all the other adults in her life were missing her and so sad she wasn’t with them.  And believe me when I say that I am oversimplifying what she went through.  What form of roller coaster that we rode with her.  Those adults in China rode it with her too.  We all tried our best to support her in this pain she was experiencing.  And we made a huge mistake. 
 
In the midst of the dwelling in the pain (which was very essential!), we forgot to remind her of her present and of her future.  We neglected to take the reigns of control from her grasp and take our role as her new parents to its fullest degree.  We forgot to teach her what a family was.  Who parents are in the life of a child.  That it’s okay to be loved on like a baby.  That when you need to grieve it feels best when you can do it with a loved one rather than try to take care of business on your own.  And because of that, my friends, she was unable to attach to her new reality, thereby preventing her from connecting with her new family. 
 
She is so often like a sugar starved toddler running around looking for her next lollipop.  Who will give me what I need?  Who will fill this hole?  And so she runs.  From here to there. 
 
Some days it is so wonderful.  I get a heartfelt hug in the morning or a spontaneous “I love you” at bedtime or she asks after her Dad while he is at work multiple times a day.  Other days I need to tighten up a little on the “control freak” role (see I do have a point! LOL).
 
Is the purpose of my post to beat myself up over the past months?  No.  I think we did many things right.  She is definitely growing in her attachment each day, whether it is visible or not.  I guess my point is simply that sometimes one needs to take stock and really size things up.  For me, this is a season of tweaking my parenting. 
 
I’m so thankful that, so far, even Mama’s can have a second chance.
 
1 Comment
20
Apr

What do you say?

April 20, 2010

 

I have been approached by a new wave of folks asking questions about our adoptions.  Perhaps because spring activities are in full swing, the neighbourhood has come to life and we are out and about a bit more than in the busy indoor months. 

(Lots of other little guys have come out into the sunshine too – much to the kids’ delight.)

I am usually able to take it in stride. 

It’s like we say here in our “herd” (what we have taken to calling our growing family), 

“We don’t match on the outside, but our goal is that we match up to Jesus on the inside.”

Unique gifts, free spirits, strong determination, bold imagination and loyal to the core.

That is what we hope for our kids.

 

Of late, the questions have been both a mix of gentle and, well, not so gentle. 

And my responses have been varied as well. 

You know, some gentle and some not so gentle. 

Am I proud of it?  No.  Not so much. 

But, it has given me reason to think about the two classes of questions that I get asked. 

 The first is regarding adoption in general and usually allows for a nice balance of give and take in the conversation.  I love discussing adoption in general.  In fact, it’s one of those times that I get positively chatty.  And I’m not one that finds chit chat easy.  (No comment, my dear husband.)

The other type involves questions directed to me about my own children’s adoptions. 

Now, here is where it gets dicey. 

As a parent,  I feel it’s my repsonsibility to create a safe haven in our family for all the members in it.  So talking about the most trauma filled moments of my children’s lives (and that includes my bio kids and my husband as well) to anyone wanting to know more details than have been offered up for conversation gets me going through a little speedy evaluation process.

First: Go on Red Alert

The warning bells go off and I begin to silently evaluate the words I am hearing or the questions I am being asked.

Second: How much information are they asking for ?

Is this curiosity or probing?  Do they want to know more about International Adoption, the orphan crisis in the world or about what makes my kids tick?  Are they wondering about Steve’s and my choices?  Is this something that the Holy Spirit is doing in their lives? 

Third: Can I in good conscience answer that question on behalf of my children?

I will have to answer to my children’s adult selves and even sooner to their somewhat more angst ridden teen years.  My current teen has challenged me to hold tight to the familiy boundaries.  I have no doubt that any one of my other kids will want the same from me in the future years.  I need to preserve and protect their precious info.  Can I do this and blog?  How about sharing God’s heart for the orphan?  This is something that I am working out the best I can.  I think it may prove to be *my* biggest lesson in all this.  Balance.

Fourth: The Bob and Weave

Which requires me to choose:

 a) Give enough info in order to keep the converation light.

b) Change the subject

c) Walk away and ignore the questioner all together.

This is one time when answering “c” or “all of the above” may not be the wisest choice. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is where I really take into consideration who is doing the asking.  I used to think that all “strangers” such as those in line at the grocery store or or the lady at the post office counter would always fall into the categories of b or c.  Really how could it be any of their business?  For the people little closer in, I assumed that their being in a close relationship with our family would allow them a bit more leeway in what I would answer. 

Now I know that there is a lot more grey. 

Perhaps it is because we live in a smaller community.  Perhaps it is because some of those same people that I used to think of as strangers have been brought to opening up about their own stories.

I am honoured to be able to hear them.

People like the young service technician who came to our home a few weeks ago and out of the blue told me very simply that he had a tragic childhood, but that his aunt and uncle had reached out to add him to their already full household in order to give him a great launching place for his later adulthood.

Or the older female lab tech at our local clinic who was so taken by our brave little girl (in for yet another round of invasive bloodwork) and just paused for a moment and said, “Bless her heart”, her eyes a little moist. 

And no, we aren’t from the Deep South.

She simply looked at our girl and really saw her – almost as if for the first time – a real living breathing Orphan-No-More.  Instead she saw her as we do.  A precious daughter.  A beloved sister.

So I have been doing a lot of thinking.  I haven’t always answered with the grace I know He would have me speak with.  I have missed opportunities to share about God’s mercy to me in welcoming our children home.  But I am a work in progress and the more I journey the more I match my Jesus.  And the more I match my Jesus, the more he can use me.  And the more He uses me the more opportunity I’ll have to discern and share.  Or not. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

3 Comments
30
Mar

An 8 year old sermon

March 30, 2010

I am amazed yet again at how God uses seemingly inconsequential things in a life changing way.

I picked this book up from the library today.  I had been meaning to read it for some time and had forgotten that it was on order.  When I flipped it open this afternoon, I read something at the bottom of page 231.  It went like this, “It was a sermon preached by an old family friend, a pastor named Richard Porter.” 

Soooooo? 

Well, Richard Porter was the name of the head pastor at a church we attended about 7 or 8 years ago.  We had just come out of a very difficult place in our spiritual life.  We had given a lot and been hurt a lot and it was in Pastor Rick’s sermons that we found balm for our wounded souls.  We grew a lot during that time.  So when we moved to a new town in the fall of 2002, we were amazed to hear that back at that church there was some major upheaval.  It blew us away as it was so different from what we had experienced there only a few months prior. 

I encourage you to read the whole story, but in the mean time, let me give you a glimpse into the work that God is doing in me these many years later through a second hand retelling of Pastor Rick’s teaching.  Apparently God used these same words to make an enormous impact on Phil Vischer as well.

“… what does it mean when God gives you a dream, and he shows up in it and the dream comes to life, and then, without warning, the dream dies?  What does that mean?”

And this is where I am at right now. 

The happy part in this?  The answer to that question?  Well, read the book.  Bottom line, it isn’t about the dream at all, but instead it is about the dream giver.

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28
Mar

Hope Reborn Pt. 2 – Hope in the Midst of Confusion

March 28, 2010

Please read Hope Reborn Pt. 1 first – this is so long, that I split it up a bit.  🙂

God laid her heavily on my heart one morning. I was literally physically sick with the grief that MP did not have a family and sick too, that Grace and MP did not have each other.

Stephen and I talked it over and decided to petition our agency to allow us to adopt 2 within 1 year – a rule breaker for sure in this province and one that would require a special waiver from our ministry here. And then we waited to hear back from our agency, as the administrator was away at the time.

A few days later, as is my morning ritual, I did my prerequisite blog drifting and landed on the RQ site (those familiar with China IA will know what I mean). And first thing I noticed was a fellow mother from Grace’s CWI who had posted MP’s info and a photo on her blog. My heart dropped about a million miles. By the time I had even looked at the forum, hundreds of people had viewed her post. One family in particular was asking their agency to view MP’s file. I sat at my computer and prayed. My prayers were two fold. One: Thank You so much for providing a way for MP. Two: Why did you bother stirring me up about this? Why God?

Over the course of the next couple of days, we had numerous difficult things occur.The thoughtful, tenderhearted advocate Mom felt terrible about the controversy. For that I am so sad. I am so thankful that God moved in her spirit to step out for MP and others. She has blessed everyone in the process and I am so pleased to be called a believer with people like her to stand alongside of – truly!

Our facilitaing agency offered to go to bat for us with China, something that we are so thankful for.  Their zeal in finding families for the children in China’s WC program has been truly inspiring.  We got excited and then walked away from their offer, concerned that we were jumping ahead of our local agency.

The family who had asked to view her file offered to back away from the pursuit of MP’s adoption for us. We declined their offer and told them to proceed. We had not heard back from our agency and we desired first of all that MP would be united wth a family. After 2 days of attempting to gain more insight into her medical condition and having the hopeful family e-mail us for personal information (which I felt very resistant to giving out until an official match had been made and now I see why), they attempted to lock her file and found that her file had already been locked!

And that leads us to MP’s new family!

Once I received word from both the advocating Mom and the first hopeful family that her file was already locked, I went back to the original forum where MP’s  info had been posted and suddenly I felt I knew who they were. After following her link to the family’s blog, making contact with her and reeling from the reality that our pursuit of MP was officially over, I randomly went to their blog archives and picked a date. And then I threw down the gauntlet to God.

“Why God? Why did you put me in the middle of all this? Grace is grieving her friend. I don’t know why I care as much as I do. Why did I feel such a hesitation with the first family? Medically they could have offered her so much. What are you doing?  Show me that this is a family who will love her, who will understand her, who will connect the girls so they can continue their relationship.”

And then He answered me in a very personal way. Out of all the posts, many many months ago, MP’s new Mama had posted a reference to a children’s book. Something so personal and meaningful to me.  Something obscure.  Something that only I know.  MY FAVOURITE CHILDREN’S BOOK. And yes, I am screaming. 🙂   

 (And in case you are wondering, the name of the book is Verdi, which is not exactly Green Eggs and Ham, as far as popularity goes.)

My God is just that big. There is no coincedence with Him. He gave me a guidepost. Something to hold tight to. He did not have to answer me in any way shape or form – but He did. And in the time since, I have spent much time reading their blog. They are a fun, loving, sensitive, God loving family. MP is going to not only be loved, but she’ll have brothers and sisters (one who even shares her country of birth) and a Mom and a Dad who are delighted with their new blessing and a heritage of faith. What more could one ask for?  Well, in retrospect, the icing on the cake is our proximity to them.  One long day’s drive away.  We live much, much farther from each and every one of the other girls who’ve left Grace’s orphanage and joined their forever families.  Only God.

Now, back to Grace. The one who, in *my* world, it was all about in the first place.

Grace has opened up a lot over the past few weeks. She’s seen me cry openly. She’s heard me speak even more boldy for the orphan crisis in the world. Funny how I’ve suddenly had additional opportunities to be bold.  She has seen my heart be truly broken and she seems to be able to trust me with more and more of her stories and cuddles and thoughts.  She has no idea why, but I do.  God does.  It is Hope Reborn.  God opening our hearts so He can do His own special brand of heart surgery.  Softening the clay before it (we) are molded into His image a bit more closely.  Giving us hope in the midst of confusion.  For my daughter.  For me.  And hopefully, most of all for a little girl awaiting her family in an orphanage in China.

I hope to close this post, this chapter of the story once I hit publish.  I plan on writing one more thing.  Something to MP’s new family.  I hope they can see God’s hand even more clearly.  And alongside them, I will pray MP home.

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28
Mar

Hope Reborn Pt. 1 – Playing Detectve

March 28, 2010

Grace has many memories of life in China.  That makes so much sense.  She’s a bright, imaginative, intelligent little girl (and that’s not just me bragging!).  She spent almost a full seven years in her orphanage.  The kids there were her world and definitely her family. 

In a family there always seems to be those you are happy to see occasionally, those who seem easier to get into a tiff with and those who are ever enmeshed with you at a heart level.  Those are the ones that help mold you and who you can never separate from because they are such a part of your experience that it is impossible to know where you ended and they began.  This is the case with Grace’s heart sister.

By all accounts they shared a crib and then slept next to one another in their low framed, high barred toddler beds.  Once they grew to about six years of age they were moved to a new floor and building with bunk beds that was used for the older kids.

When we met Grace she had numerous photos with her.  Within moments of meeting her she wanted to show us the photos and would list off her friends and the workers and her volunteers and we began to get glimmers of the very large and people-filled world she lived in.  She was so blessed to have a volunteer (several in fact) that obviously were taken with her (more on that another day) and there were many photos of one little girl in particular(YF) with Grace.  We just assumed that they were good friends and that perhaps they were best friends.  She would talk of many girls, but we kept waiting for YF to be adopted a few weeks after we returned home – surely that would be comfort to her.  Funnily enough, the girls saw each other on Skype, chatted a bit (I enjoyed meeting her new family!), but she was still crying at night for her friend. 

A couple of months later, we received word from Grace’s volunteer X that he was registered to be married.  Grace was happy  and suddenly married people and weddings were of new interest to her.  A few days later, after much miscommunication and poor Mandarin on my part, we discover that it is YF’s volunteer, JY,  is X’s new wife.  And suddenly, it makes sense.  X and JY were the connection between Grace and YF, not the other way around.  Are you following? lol 

Soooo, with that in mind, I start back tracking to other things I know.  The orphanage staff had told us (even since coming home) that Grace’s best friend had been adopted before her and was living in the US.  I had been able to make contact with another family that adopted from her CWI at the same time and was told that “Yes”, they had met the family, but the family had seemed uninterested in a further relationship.  The girl in question was MH.  When I would ask if it was MH that she was missing, she would repeatedly smile and say, “No”.  sigh… back to the drawing board.

Meanwhile, over the past 4 months, Grace has spent literally hours pouring over her photos.  She would always list off everyone in the photos.  There were many stories about X, but never a whole lot about the other children, other than their names.  That is until a few weeks back.  Suddenly after many weeks home, in her hopeless, sad, exhausted cry, she began calling out for MP at night.  There was a name!  And I knew just who she meant. 

 MP is a little girl that I had picked out of Grace’s photos from the beginning.  I had prayed for her, even thought, “Wow, I wish we could go back for her”, but kind of let it go.  Suddenly a few weeks back, all of that changed.  God laid her heavily on my heart one morning.

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