Happy New Year! It's going to be a big one!

Though this post is a few days late for the customary "Happy New Year"...I do hope you'll allow me to claim that here in the Middle Kingdom, it is not really the New Year until January 23rd.  So, perhaps this long overdue post is instead, right on time.

Much has been developing in our life here through these past several months.  Our family has experienced the throes of a fast-paced semester that has finally drawn to close.  On Friday we'll make our pilgrimage to retreat where we enjoy rest and the opportunity to focus on listening to Him ever more closely.  The children are free to run and play with kids just like them, those who live and work outside of their home culture, all over Asia.  It is a time where they can let down their guard and just feel free to be who they are.

2012 is going to be another year of growth for our tribe.  At long last we can announce that officially we have two sons that will come home in the next month or so!  We're well past the concerns of how crazy we appear.  Now we do our best to embrace this wild journey He's led us on...to parent a large family...and to live in a foreign culture...and to constantly accept that whatever plans we had for our life must be subjected to the plan He has for our lives.

This last decision to bring #9 home (we're calling him #9 because that's what the school called him before they knew his name, even though he is actually #11 in the H family line-up) was a struggle.  It brought this Momma to a place that I've never truly been before. A place in which I must admit fully that I am not adequate for all the responsibilities of this life.  That I must depend daily on His grace and strength to make it through.  Daddy came to this place peacefully this past summer when being questioned by our Chancellor of Schools.  She was asking him about the potential of #9's joining us, and with love and concern she said, "But, can you handle it?"...he retold the experience to me in which his reply was an honest, "no."  He said that as soon as he said no, he felt faith surge through him, and he began to share the promises of our Father with her for every challenge, every weakness, every call to obedience.  She was deeply touched by his responses.  That conversation took place in August...and just recently have we seen what those seeds of faith have produced in these months her her life and the lives of those around us.

Perhaps it is my background,  it must be in part my personality,  and I'm certain that my culture also contributed to this sense of loathing for weakness.  Yet, here I am, soon to be the mother of 11, 9 children still at home, and now I can say with assurance...I am not enough.

But He is.

Living by faith is a risky business on the surface.  We wonder how we can ever get the courage enough to take those steps of obedience...but in reality...when we surrender fully to His plan...it is the most secure place to be.  We are in His hands.  We are surrounded by His protection.

#9...where did he come from?  Those of you who have read here, know that we've been "waiting" for paperwork for Nehemiah.  The paperwork for him has come through, but we could not move forward until we knew for sure if #9 was in fact our son. 

We met #9 again this past June.  We visited a private orphanage in a neighboring province.  The girls and I had gone there to visit with a group that had come from the US.  Little did we know that we also came to see that an H family member was there, waiting for us.  Brownie was the first who "knew" that he was our son.  She never left his side over the days we were there...she began to plead with Daddy and I to listen to what God was saying to her...through her.

We struggled.  Not only with the idea of our family growing again...that is struggle enough...but because our new H family member uses a wheelchair for his mobility...and we live in the Middle Kingdom.  I cannot think of any time in the past four years that I've seen someone, using a wheelchair, outside of the hospital.  To say that life here is not "handicap accessible" would be the understatement of the century.  And yet, we knew He was calling us to trust Him and to open our hearts and lives to this precious boy.

We told the children that it was impossible. 

Over and over again..."it is impossible"..."maybe if we were in the US,  but not here, it's just impossible!"..."we don't even have a car here!  we use city buses to get around as a family!  how could we have a son in a wheelchair? it's just impossible!".... "our access to medical care!  no school has children in wheelchairs! it's just impossible!"

Magpie, late one night last summer, crawled into our bed, weeping.  She told us that she couldn't go back to sleep...that every time she closed her eyes she saw #9's face, and she was certain that the HS was telling her that he was ours!  We cried too.  We told her that we were committed to praying for a family for him...but for us to be his family, well, it was impossible, impossible, impossible, impossible...

Magpie, through her tears, simply said to us, "We have many words we're not allowed to say in this family...hate, boring...but I think the #1 word we should not be allowed to say is impossible.  As many mountains as He has moved in our lives...and as many miracles as we've seen Him perform...He must be so sad to ever hear us say IMPOSSIBLE."

The priesthood of the believer...right there...in our bed...in the middle of the night...TRUTH.

We have been struggling, like never before in the paperwork process, to get to the place where finally we had #9s file in hand...it has taken nearly 6 months...but as of January 6th...we can announce that he has been officially matched with us.

Doors have opened wide at our school during that time to welcome him, where once we were told they would not be able to accept a child in a chair.  Hearts have opened wide to receive him here in our community, where once they were closed to anyone with special needs.

We are walking through and witnessing a miracle in process...again...

I have no idea why He has allowed us this formidable blessing, once again...but I am so thankful that He has.

I will post some pictures soon, as I am able.  But for now, you can know his name...

Ezra.

(Funny that Nehemiah and Ezra will come home together, I know.  They are not the same age...and we chose the names for drastically different reasons...not just because we flipped open the book and picked the first two book names we saw!;)

We will have several changes that we need to make so please lift those matters up with us...perhaps in our housing, we need transportation, a caregiver/aide to help him at school, perhaps a PT teacher/tutor to help with some additional learning as he'll not be in school FT, a the finances to achieve all these changes.

When we finally had the word that Ezra would come home to us...that it was official...the children shrieked and danced around for joy.  Brownie wept and went off to the bedroom to pray and thank Him for listening to her... after she emerged from the room she told me..."God heard my prayers."

May they all come to know the One who answers our every prayer.

Waiting in high gear...

There are a number of issues that are pressing/pending that I simply cannot massage out of the "waiting" category to the "moving forward" category.

We have paperwork creeping its way through Immigration channels for Nehemiah.  We are waiting for a determination from the IRS to know what we must send in to substantiate our tax returns, we've only received a "we've selected your return for further review."  I've been trying for a week to get a response from the US consulate in GZ giving us an appointment time for this Friday, so that we can make an expensive train trip down and back in one day to renew our fingerprints for Immigration for the 5th time in 5 years...to prove we still have no criminal record  in the US.  We've been creeping through some visa issues Here with renewing our Teaching Certificates (complete with ANOTHER medical exam this past Friday.)   We're waiting to see where the next money will come from that we need to further the adoption paperwork.   We're waiting to sign four new teachers than I've worked on recruiting over several months.  We're waiting for final arrangements for Qian Qian's surgery next month...and on and on the list goes.

If I'm not really careful, the above makes a tornado of thought that leaves me sitting and spinning and ANXIOUS for some break in the stalemate.  Herein lies the problem.

When I allow my thoughts to swirl and I get too focused on the angst of waiting...I lose my joy.  My eyes slip from their gaze on Him, in whom ALL these DETAILS are already resolved.  HE KNOWS, and HE has made provision for all these matters.  When I am keeping my eyes and heart focused on Him, allowing his Word to sink deeply into my heart each day...I experience peace.

It is ironic...and shameful...that just a few weeks ago I was reveling in how He attends to every detail, resolved every issue, even BEFORE I often know there is a problem!  This reality was awash over me so recently as I contemplated The Bruiser's needed surgery and medical care,  his acceptance to the charitable hospital which led to my need to remain in the States for a longer period of time, which led to the need for our children to travel back Here without a parent.  Once we realize the significant challenge that was there, nearly immediately, we also discovered His beautiful plan to meet those needs.

I was IMing with a friend who is herself waiting, and waiting, and waiting for an adoption to come to fruition.  I "spoke" of my frustration with some of these waiting matters I listed above.  She said that she couldn't wait to see how He was going to resolve our every need.

Thanks to that dear sister, I was once again aware of my need to cast all my cares upon Him...to not forget this amazing gift He gives us...so that we can experience peace, in the midst of any wait/trial/circumstance.  How marvelous it will be to SEE what He will do!  How He will move mountains again and again and again.

I see a great flaw in my thinking as it pertains to how GOOD He is.  I often find myself viewing His mercy and goodness through a lens I picked up a long time ago.  One that dictates that for every good thing that He does, I must earn it, I MUST do something to deserve it.  And, that there is some sort of "limit" to His miracle working goodness, and that for every miracle we see, we're ever closer to the line where we've used up all our "miracle credit."

The lens dulls my vision, it makes my peripheral vision completely out of focus, so that my eyes can ONLY see the issue just before me.  The headache from looking through this lens muddles my memory of all He has done in our lives.

I am so thankful for the Word that, when I meditate on it...FORCES me to put down that lens and EXPAND my vision of who He is and how indescribably GOOD He is.  It is far beyond what my mind will EVER be able to comprehend.   I was forced to put down that lens just recently when I read again the story of Joshua and the Israelites crossing the Jordan river.

During the last adoptions, a dear sister spoke encouragement to us about our situation and the parting of the Red Sea.  Often that story resonated and built faith in our hearts to believe in the miracles we needed to bring the boys home.

Some time recently, while I was looking through that faith-debilitating lens, I came upon the story of Joshua crossing the Red Sea.  My vision through the lens was viewing our current needs for Nehemiah's adoption as well as The Bruiser's medical needs, and various other difficulties as  BIG PROBLEMS...we will need more miracles to move these mountains for our sons.  When I read the story of Joshua, I simply could not continue to see things as I was...I had to put the lens down and refocus my eyes on the One who parted the Red Sea AND the Jordan river!

From Joshua, Chapter 4:

²⁰ And Joshua set up at Gilgal the twelve stones they had taken out of the Jordan. ²¹ He said to the Israelites, “In the future when your descendants ask their parents, ‘What do these stones mean?’ ²² tell them, ‘Israel crossed the Jordan on dry ground.’ ²³For the LORD your God dried up the Jordan before you until you had crossed over. The LORD your God did to the Jordan what he had done to the Red Sea^[b] when he dried it up before us until we had crossed over. ²⁴ He did this so that all the peoples of the earth might know that the hand of the LORD is powerful and so that you might always fear the LORD your God.”


I was confronted with the truth that the One I put my trust in did not just ONCE part the waters for His people to pass over on dry land through the Red Sea...but AGAIN He did it so that they could pass through the Jordan.  There is no limit on His provision, His mercy, His goodness, His deliverance or His miracles.  If at anytime I'm allowing my thinking to be otherwise...I must change my thinking...


Our part is just like that of those who crossed the Red Sea AND the Jordan...to tell our descendants what He has done..."so that all the peoples of the Earth might know that the hand of the Lord is powerful and so that we might always fear the Lord (our) God."

I'm thankful this morning that my eyes have returned to their right focus on Him who does miracles...and that my waiting is now joy...the joy of anticipation, for I know how marvelous it will be when He reveals how He intends to move us through the obstacles...on dry land.

Cultural Faux Pas...what was I thinking?

For those who know me very well, they have heard, too many times, about my propensity to totally embarrass myself.  I have a ton of stories that often my friends will say..."Oh, tell THAT ONE over again!"  My Teammate says, "you could write a book just with all your embarrassing moment stories!"  The fact that I have so many of them always helped during the days I hosted a talk radio program...if there was nothing much in the news to center the topic upon...then I could always drag out a good personal "embarrassing moment" story and the call lines would lite up with people who wanted to comment.

But, I think, Saturday was possibly my top 1 or 2 most embarrassing moment of my lifetime!

We have some friends from India.  Their son has been in the school since we arrived and has been classmates with Brownie and Potato.  They were fast friends from the start, especially because they could all speak English together immediately, before they had learned to speak Chinese with their classmates.

The family has decided to take their son back to India to enroll him in school there, as the schools in their area might be very difficult to enter if he goes further in our system.

Anyway, there was a "Farewell to Fawaz" gathering on Saturday at a clubhouse at the family's apartment complex.  I offered to bring some food as I would always do.  Friday night we had a slumber party for The Bug's birthday, so after making pancakes and bacon for 14 on Saturday morning, and having some other friends over for lunch, I was under pressure to come up with something to take for the party.

I decided on making quiche for lunch, so quickly assembled and extra to take to the party, as well.

We jammed onto an overcrowded bus to travel to the party.  Everyone being careful not to jostle the bag with the quiche in it.  When we arrived several, including the party hosts, gathered around to inquire about my culinary contribution.

I was explaining that this was a "quiche."  I went on to detail the ingredients...eggs, flour, swiss cheese, vegetables, bacon...... BACON....

Just as I said the words...I was horrified!

I had totally forgotten/overlooked/spaced the fact that our dear friends, whose "going away" were were trying to honor, are MUSLIMS and therefore consider PORK, HEINOUS!

Standing there in my shock and embarrassment, my mind flooded with the stories I'd heard about the families extreme stance on pork.  Like the time that the 1st grade teacher gave a hungry Fawaz some of the vegetable dish the other children were eating for school lunch...but it had PORK in it...and the parents were very, very unhappy!  Even the dish that HAD pork in it is considered unclean...

and here I came, smiling, with my family of 9...and offered as my dish to HONOR our friends...a quiche with UNCLEAN meat in it!

I felt dizzy.  I could NOT believe that I had done such a thing!

I apologized profusely..."I'm so sorry, so sorry!  I never meant ANY disrespect. I don't know what I was thinking!"  Tears stung in my eyes.

They were cool.  They kept saying, "really it is okay, don't worry, there are other things for us to eat!"

Yeah, good thing they had other friends who had their heads screwed on...I guess my actions said..."good bye there friends...let me serve you some unclean food to show how important you were to us..."

Maybe some day I will be able to laugh about this one, just like I have about the time my dress was stuck in the backside of my pantyhose and I sauntered to the front of the church when I was 14...

Or the time, when I was in college, while speaking from the pulpit in a church in New Zealand, in expressing our Team's thankfulness for all the wonderful food the home-stay families had fed us I said 3-4 times how "stuffed" we were...in fact I "couldn't remember a time when I've been more stuffed."...only slightly aware of the horror on the faces of the congregation...I was immediately given a humiliating cultural language lesson by the Pastor on the spot that "stuffed" in NZ is akin to using the "F" word in American English!

I nearly died on that day, too.

Back Home Again!

A brief post tonight to break our silence and tell you that we're back home again after our retreat.  We absolutely feel refreshed and restored after an exciting, but arduous, past year!  We visited a retreat center where families who work all over Asia come to rest and be quiet...dozens of families just like ours, from all over the world, like-minded, who savor the time to reconnect with each other and Him.  The first year we went on retreat I thought, "Wow, this is so amazing, what a blessing!"  The second year I thought, "Oh, I see, this is essential!"  This year I thought, "Dear Lord, I hope we make it before the wheels fall of this rig!"

Once again we've been stirred up by the HS's guiding, refining more and more the vision for our work.  Though we know all too well that on this journey of following that we will likely never know a 5 year plan...and seldom a 1 year plan...so we move forward with what He has revealed to us at this time, and ask for His help to remain faithful.

I will be writing at length in the days to come about some specific issues on which through the Book, meditation, and discussions with other brothers and sisters, we have more clarity. 

We've been reminded again that the Way is one that is not easy, that calls for sacrifice, and is rich with blessing and hope! 

Tomorrow we will again rise in the dark, force our arms and legs into the many layers of clothing required...and trudge back to the school that is the center of our life Here.  We will be greeted by our fellow teachers and beloved students, with joy in our hearts to be where He wants us to be.

It seems as though our work is now compartmentalized a bit into three areas.  The first being Adoption, which since 2005 has been our primary mnstry calling.  The second, a developing program of "Orphan Prevention" if you will, about which I will write more in the near future.  The third, living our lives in the community of the school.

There is much new to report, miracles of healing in the hearts of our newest children, milestones acheived by others, even announcements to make...but all that must wait for another day...

I am so greatful for restoration...and the joy that is a wellspring in my soul...He is so faithful.

Refocusing

I suppose that due to my shameful lamenting regarding my birthday on Thursday...I needed a reality check about how blessed I am...

I got an email from a dear friend who herself crossed over to 40 last month...and a few other encouragements (thanks Donna) that life on the "other side" seems to be going well...

The email from my friend said that she too had been feeling a bit out of sorts with the changing of the decade for herself and then that day, two guys came over to meet with her husband, each with MAJOR challenges in their lives...and she felt like she received a big wake-up call from Him to count her blessings.

I received such a jolt last night about welcome news for my birthday this Thursday...

Qian Qian has recovered from his fever, and is admitted again to the hospital.  If all goes as planned, he will have his lip closed on Thursday!  That is a magnificent birthday present! 

I was standing in my kitchen when I got the call.  I was thinking of how tired I felt at 6 pm...how I still had to make sour cream for Thanksgiving...and roast the pumpkins so I could make pumpkin pie...how I had to make sure and reinforce the flimsy rack in my big toaster oven so that the turkey would not fall down on the little heater elements...and make some sort of cream of mushroom soup for the broccoli casserole base...of the boys fighting raucously over a truck...two girls complaining about having to help me make the salad and set the table...Daddy being home late again from school...two other sisters in a verbal combat over whose turn it was to turn on the heaters in the beds...

I nearly missed the phone call due to the din (in my ears and in my mind)...

Then, like a ray of sunshine from above...He gently reminded me that This (Qian Qian, the Thanksgiving outreach, the precious children he's given me, the husband who serves his family with love and diligence, the school and the people who gather there each day and make our life full)...THIS is what it is all about...and I am blessed beyond compare.

How silly I've been.  How utterly ungrateful. I am ashamed.

What a gift to mark the occasion in my mind of my 40th birthday as the day I wrshped Him by helping a young boy have a future and remain with his birth family.

My life is abundant...as He promises all of us who follow Him...each day worthy of celebration and Thanksgiving...how could I ask for more?  Each day of each year has brought me to this place and I would not go back to some earlier day for anything.  To sacrifice anything He has brought me during these 40 years would be unbearable. 

I am once again, full of anticipation...how much more I will learn of Him...how many more thrilling journeys will He lead us on...in the next years should He give them to me.

I'm embarrassed to have written so much about this...really it is too much navel-gazing...but it has crowded my thinking over these past few days...and I can only write about what has been on my mind.  Otherwise my writing is forced and too dry for reading. 

Taking my eyes of Him produces such silliness...of focusing on things that are meaningless...and missing the matters that are of preeminent value.

Returning my gaze to Him swells my heart with Thanksgiving...

Future Plans

We had a big visit from the Chancellor of Schools here last week.

This is a high-stress time as we endeavor to make sure that everything looks FABULOUS, that all the children behave PERFECTLY, and that our teaching is FLAWLESS.  So as you can imagine...failure is inevitable.

Additionally excitement surrounded the fact that, for the very first time, the CAO of the corporation who owns the school, was also bringing an entourage (think 20 people) to view the school.  In fact, our beloved Principal rearranged the class schedule to ensure that the visitors would be viewing all the English classes!  So if they didn't like what they saw...it would be easy to blame the foreign teachers!  :)  Of course, no pressure here!

In the balance was truly the very future of our school.  Right now our Elementary School is housed in the "pastel palace"...or the Kindergarten building.  We're in our 3rd year there...we're growing as is the Kindergarten.  Something must give!

But due to lots of volatility, the future of the corporation's ownership, and thus the school's ownership, has been hanging in the balance for the past 10 months.  Much to our delight, the ownership of the corporation has just recently be firmly settled, yet we were still unsure if commitments would be made to build the official Elementary Building.  Furthermore, there were big questions as to if the school would continue on to Middle School, as they are currently licensed.  For the past 10 months, we've heard that it was a "no"...so we've been envisioning what to do with Magpie and The Bug in September of 2012...when they'd be ready to go to Middle School.

Of course, we've committed all these issues of our future to prayer and largely been at peace KNOWING that He has a plan...and that He knows and loves our children more than we do.  Often, while on this journey of living cross-culturally, we've had to refocus our thinking on the central truth that He called us as a FAMILY (not as a couple with kids hanging on for the ride)...and so He has a perfect plan for each of our children during the years we are Here.

We were delighted to hear, that He has answered our prayers!  We were told on Friday that the decision has been made, and announced that the new Elementary/MIDDLE SCHOOL building is scheduled to break ground in March, 2011!  The projection is that the new Elementary building, and the Middle School will open for students in September 2012...exactly when our older girls will be slated to move on to Middle School!

On a recruiting note...we're looking for a few new teachers for our school for the next school year!  If you have a tug on your heart to serve here...and you have a teaching certificate...EMAIL ME...and spread the word to others who might feel stirred to come teach alongside us!

These days He's been reminding me about the SECURITY that life in Him brings. 

While it is true we have no idea what the future will bring...we have total PEACE in knowing that He does.  Even for the highly optimistic (which I am,) the news of the world and the challenges of this life can tempt me to worry about our kids and our family's future.  This adventure of leaving There and living Here has taught me one delightful lesson...I can REST with my future and my CHILDREN'S futures...in His all-powerful and loving hands.

Our future plans?  It remains true that we do not now for certain.  Each day we wait to see what He will do...but our confidence in Him overrides all the uncertainty and brings us joy in this journey. 

All praise and thanks be to Him!

A Sad Night

The first year we were Here, we, being pet lovers at heart, happened upon two cats at the pet market in the city.  Though we had traditionally been "dog people," living on the 8th floor of an apartment and being at school from 7:45-5pm daily...we realized that cats were a better fit.

There are pictures of our cats in this blog back in 2008 when they first came to us.

The kids were completely smitten and really have loved having them.

Last year, early one morning we were greeted with a terrible call from a neighbor who told us in very broken English, "I see cat outside, I'm afraid, it is bad."

We rushed out on our balcony and looked down the eight floors to discover that "Sweetie Pie" had leaped/fallen from our balcony to her end.

It was awful as you might imagine.  We became ultra-vigilant about the doors to the balconies being shut at all times...and we carried on.

Three weeks ago, our second cat, Switch, began to get very, very lethargic.  We took her to the vet, who prescribed an anti-biotic, that did seem to perk her up and we thought she was over whatever it was.  (Her blood work had shown infection.)

Then two days ago, on Sunday night, I saw her breathing very rapidly, with great effort. 

Not really being a cat owner, I knew that the situation was serious, but was unclear how serious after my "internet doctoring" all night on Sunday.

Monday, Magpie and I went out in the driving, cold rain to get to the bus stop to take her to the vet.  (It is always on these occasions where I feel the most stymied by my "old life" and the "new one" Here.  When I lived "There" I would have jumped into my car, made an appointment at the vet's down the street, and been in reach of the best veterinary care in minutes.)

But as it is Here, we walked with the cat wrapped up in blankets in her carrying case.  Stood in the rain, pressed onto a loud, crowded bus, rode jerking and jostling for 30 minutes...just to get out in the rain again and hope that a taxi would come by our way.  Another 25 minutes in a taxi and terrible traffic got us a block or so away from the vet's.  We walked through some major construction (scaffolding coming down, heavy equipment being moved, all manner of "dangerous" construction mess lying about) holding our grievously ill cat, umbrella and purse...in the blowing rain.

Upon arriving there, we gave the update, they viewed her, took her temperature that was very low...and said, "this cat is very serious. At this hospital there in nothing we can do for her.  She may need an X-ray, there is one X-Ray at the vet hospital further on in town (another 40 minutes)."

When I saw that her temperature was so low...and the complete inability of the vet's office to do anything about it...I began to get very worried about the outcome of the night...and Magpie's heart who was along on this journey.

We traipsed back out, nearly tripped on a rat the size of a small dog as he was scurrying back down a hole in the cement walkway...walked 3 more city blocks trying to find a taxi...getting wetter and wetter with cold, cold rain.

We talked in the taxi, Magpie and I, about what we might be facing.  We wept a bit, but held out hope that we would try all we could to help Switch.  Even still, my foreboding was growing.

Upon arriving at the next vet hospital, they greeted us with terrible news.  "With the cat's temperature this low, there is nothing we can do.  Seeing her breathing so rapidly, and listening to her lungs, she has very serious pneumonia.  Her chest is full of water.  She will probably not live until tomorrow."

I don't know if this would have been the same outcome if we had been There.  But, we're not There, we're Here. 

Perhaps further treatment was not recommended because of the fiercely practical nature (regarding the spending of money) of our host culture would have prevented them from recommending treatment on a cat they knew was going to die anyway.

But here we were, in this cold little vet hospital, surrounded by all the reminders that everything is different Here...IVs hanging in glass bottles for dogs that were "ill", an old metal cupboard displaying a few dozen "cures" for minor ailments that was dirty and disarrayed, windows wide open while the wind blew in heavy gusts of rain onto the floor...and we made the only decision we could. 

The cost for a "peaceful death" was about $15 USD.  I'm not sure that it is used very often Here...but we asked for it...seeing our little friend suffer so much and hearing now her plaintive, painful meows...we sobbed in that cold office until they came to tell us she had gone to sleep peacefully...and then we sobbed some more.

We made arrangements for her...and stepped out arm in arm into the storm to find a taxi we hoped would agree to take us the nearly 2 hour trip home.

Humanity, Pt. 3

I observed a day of rest yesterday, so neglected to bring the latest on the story of the Momma and baby who were begging.  It is a good thing, as I have more to share now.

In the days since we saw them on the pedestrian overpass I've had a few local friends try to counsel me that what we did was unrealistic.  In their care for us, they have warned us that the situation was very possibly a scam.  One dear friend said that he was aware of stories of people who took children, perhaps those whose parents could not care for them and who would have potentially ended up in an orphanage, to use the visible need of the child as an appeal to beg.  He said, "I give it a 50/50 chance that you'll ever hear from her again."

I was really saddened by this thought, but I knew, it is a very real possibility.  When one is desperately poor and is in need of money...what would we not do to feed ourselves?  And, while I knew there was a chance that it was not as it should be, I felt so strongly that this mother and baby were what they appeared.  The way she sobbed...it makes a pit in my stomach as I think of it.   What an actress she would have had to have been!  Even more, the experience was so powerful, so deeply spiritual while being so grounded in the natural, I knew I could trust the HS's leading...that He was calling on us to be present and do whatever needed to be done for the good of that baby.

Thanks be to Him who does amazing things...we are in contact with the Momma and baby!

In the past twenty-four hours, contact was made, through a few intermediaries...but it was achieved! I consider this nothing short of a miracle!

The little boy, his name, Qian Qian (pronounced chen-chen), was seen today by a doctor!  The first visit of his life to a hospital!

We determined from our exchange that night on the overpass that the woman was staying with a "mei-mei" (little sister) here in our city.  Apparently it was mei-mei's boyfriend who contacted our dear local friend (who is assisting on our behalf.)  The first phone call exchanged some basic information and our friend asked mei-mei's boyfriend to accompany the Momma to the hospital so that the baby could be seen and an estimate given regarding the cost to repair the cleft lip.  (I am unsure at this point if the cleft also includes the palate.)

The second phone call came a few hours later (apparently they went immediately to the hospital) with the details from the Doctor.  A treatment plan, with various steps for the Qian Qian's lip repair was briefly covered with our friend and arrangements were made for both men (the boyfriend and our friend) to meet and speak further.  An estimate was given by the hospital as well...10,000 RMB or approximately $1,505 USD...the cost given to change Qian Qian (and his mother's) life by giving him surgery.

When I heard the estimate, though I do not yet know where the money will come from, I asked our friend to immediately tell Qian Qian's mother that we will pledge to provide the surgery her son needs.  I know the He is in this, that it was his prompting that caused us to go back and to sit down instead of giving money and passing on by...and I know that He will provide what Qian Qian needs financially!  How exciting this will be to see Him moving powerfully in the life of this courageous mother...who suffered reproach and ultimately her husband's abandoning...because she wanted to keep her child.  How can we not do everything possible for her?

I hope to soon have a picture of Qian Qian to post here so that you can see the precious child I've been writing about!

If your heart is touched by this story or you feel the HS's prompting and want to be a part of this miracle for Qian Qian, please email me!  We hope to have the funds together very soon as everything must be paid to the hospital in advance for the surgery to take place.

One final thought on this post...

I contributed to a book recently published about living and teaching Here.  In one of the chapters I wrote, I discussed the effect of a picture of a mother and child that my husband had brought back from a short term trip to India....here are excerpts from that writing :

A few years ago my husband traveled to India with a Christian, humanitarian organization. Among the more than one thousand pictures he brought back was one that proved to be a seminal moment for me.

This excerpt is from my journal in January 2007:


“There’s just one picture that I cannot get out of my mind; the lady in the street. She’s sitting in the street, begging, her son curled up and sleeping with his head on her lap.

Of course, I don't know if he was sleeping, I assumed so, because I'm an American who thinks that living in suburbia without a husband who was traveling for 12 days was a real hardship. Maybe the boy wasn't sleeping at all? Perhaps he was just too weak or too hungry to sit up next to her and beg? It’s hard for my mind to conceive of anything like that. My healthy, well-fed children are so loud playing in the next room I am unable to construct such a reality even in my imagination.

My husband apologized for the resolution of the photograph. He said it didn't fully tell the story. He was riding in a bus and shot the picture through the glass.

You see, the picture didn't capture the tears that he saw streaming down her cheeks while she was sitting in the middle of the busy, over-crowded road, her son's head in her lap.

Should I be angry at myself for not understanding her reality? Should I chastise myself for not being able to relate to what that life would be like sitting IN THE STREET...weeping...begging...with a child huddled next to me?...

...How could I relate? The abundance in which I live is like the novocaine my dentist uses before he drills on my teeth. The greater the abundance, the less I feel anything, especially compassion and connection with an unfortunate woman weeping in the street on the other side of the world.

If I had been there, If I had seen her, maybe I would have gotten down in the dirt with her and told her about how difficult my life has been lately…

Would I ever have anything to say to her? Could I even open my mouth in her presence?

Maybe I'll just delete the picture...and go back to worrying about that car repair that needs to be done...now that's a real pain...


How foolish I’ve been…”

Now it is nearly 4 years later.
 
Just three nights ago, I sat down on the pavement with a mother, so desperate for help for her special needs son that she endured the shame of begging to get him help.
 
It is true that I really didn't have much to say to her, as I'd imagined would be the case when I'd looked at the picture of the woman and child in India.  But I saw the reality of the seed that photo planted...a chance to reach out...to put my faith in action to meet the need of the one right in front of me.
 
She is not a stranger to me.  She is my sister in this common experience of humanity. 
 
While I do not know the pain and shame of what she's endured to provide for her special needs son...I have the ability and responsibility to bridge that gap to meet her in her point of need.
 
I know that there are many more who need help.  But for now, the opportunity to minister to Him exists in little Qian Qian's need...to be His hands and feet...and for His glory alone.

Humanity, Pt. 2

As I drew closer to her, my eyes became fixated on the baby sitting upright on her lap. 

The cleft in the baby's lip was wide, and the nipple of the bottle the mother was using to feed him milk disappeared high within it.

The mother sat on a brown burlap sack.  Her legs gathered up underneath her, her face downcast as she stared at the large handwritten sign spread out before her that detailed her need.  Random coins had been thrown down on the sign and lay scattered about.  My mind fixated on the thought for just a moment of what it would be like to have coins literally thrown at me.  Her dirty hand, rough and weathered, held some small bills.  Beside her lay a plastic sack with a "recycled" bottle containing milk for the baby.  A blanket, a wet diaper, and a McDonald's sack lay close by.

The baby, bundled with layers and layers of clothing, had green socks on.  The socks looked as though they had been worn for a million years and had walked on coarse footing for miles upon miles, even though the baby was not yet of walking age.  His raven hair looked dusty and had bits of straw stuck in it.

As I squatted down, the girls alongside me, the baby caught my gaze. 

In all my life, I don't think I will ever forget that moment.

There are those times when events cut deep into our realization, branding themselves into our memories...this was one of those.

He stared right through me. 

His eyes penetrated to my core and he held my stare for what seemed an endless time. 

As I reached out to touch his head, absolutely compelled to touch him...I knew that I was seeing the face of Jesus in this little child's eyes. 

I cannot explain this with any more clarity than to say it was a deeply spiritual moment in which I heard the voice of the HS saying to me, "I am here.  In the need of this child, you see me."

Hastily, in broken Chinese we began to tell this mother that we knew other babies, lots of babies who had cleft lips and palates.  That we had friends who could help him...that we wanted to help him...

I asked, "what does the Doctor say about him?  what needs to be done to repair his lip?" 

She answered, "he has never been to the Doctor."

There it was again...

No money...no treatment...the white coats with their backs turned until a FaPiao was produced.
 (See The Hospital posts, early October)

I told her, "I have friends, we can help him...the surgery he needs...we can help him"

She began to sob.

She wiped bitter tears away forcefully. 

All the while, the baby continued to stare at me.

Now the crowd around us, literally PRESSING/LYING upon our backs to view what was going on, were questioning, muttering, and sometimes loudly interjecting comments at us.  The commotion and the now dozens of faces did nothing to divert the baby's attention.  Every time my eyes came back to him, he looked at no one, but me.  My heart burned within me. 

I know that the Book teaches that when we give so much as a cold drink of water to the least of these...we give it to Him.  We have the opportunity, the privilege to minister to our Lrd directly when we reach out to touch one in need. 

Devotion ablaze within me I realized a young man had come to join our intimate circle.  He introduced himself as a post-graduate college student, and English major, and I immediately conscripted him into service. 

Though the mother, her dialect as thick as I've ever encountered, labored to be understood by my new interpreter...they kept on...he translating my questions, then her answers.

She said the baby had been born some eight months before, and her husband had ultimately left her because of the baby and his special need.  That she'd come to the city to beg, as she had no food to feed them...and no hope for them in their village.  When I asked where she would sleep that night, she told me of a Mei Mei (little sister) in the city who was allowing her to stay there.  She had no phone, but gave a number for her husband. 

As I watched the young man, who we came to know as "Alex,"  scribbling the notes of her tale in my little notebook, I turned to The Bug and said..."see (pointing at Alex), He has sent us an angel to help us in this moment of need."  The Bug, eyes wide said, "this is why we are Here...He wanted us to see her tonight!"

We crossed a different pedestrian bridge last night, one we have never traversed these past few years...the "chance" of that was not lost on The Bug.

Questions in the crowd persisted. 

They began to ask my girls about us...who we were...where we were from...and of course, finally as they registered that Potato (our adopted daughter) was mine...that we had Chinese children.

An older woman, her eyebrows deeply drawn as perfect black lines above her eyes...began to question the mother directly...alternately questioning us as well.

Then I heard Potato gasp.

She was on the other side of the mother from me, so I looked immediately to see what had caused her such alarm...

She said, in whispered horror, "that lady just told the Momma to give you the baby!..."

"...She said that you have Chinese kids.  That you can take care of that baby better than she can...that if she was smart, she would give you the baby right now!"

"No!"  I exhaled in alarm..."No!" "Tell her that I want to help her and her baby.  I do not want to take her baby!  I see that she loves her baby!  I want to help her baby be healthy so that she can take him home again."

The mother sobbed.  I stroked her thin shoulders...and began to pray there...out loud...laying hands on them both and interceding for His mercy to touch them, to guide us...and to allow us the opportunity to repair the boy's lip...to protect us from making any mistakes...to grant us a connection that we could meet his need...to bring peace and comfort to the hopeless mother.

The frenzy around us dissolved as my eyes were locked again on the baby's eyes...

Then I heard Magpie begin to speak...

"I have brothers...one who was born without and eye...one without fingers on his hand...one whose feet are turned in...and they are okay, they are fine, they are loved...your baby will be okay too."

I watched Potato caressing the baby's head and marveled at her tenderness and compassion...she gently picked the straw out of his hair...cooing at him.

Brownie, sitting flat on the pavement, was massaging the baby's feet.  Straightening his pants, tickling his toes, and smiling warmly.

The Bug, fighting to stay upright with all the pressure applied to her back by the crowd, huddled closer to the pair...trying to shield them from the excited onlookers...

Our little ministry team...recognizing our limitations, but agreeing in willingness that whatever He could use us to do...we would do...

After thirty minutes or so, we'd exchanged contact info...sort of...it will be a miracle if we can find each other again...

But, luckily...I've seen an abundance of miracles...

As we stood up, I asked "Alex" to translate one more thing...that "God knows her, loves her and the baby, and that He sent us to help..."

My young translator, mouth agape, said..."Yes, yes...I will tell her..." then flustered, he added, "God bless you!"

"He has blessed me Alex, by sending you...my translating angel to help me in this crucial time...He has used you in a powerful way..."

The tears now welled in his eyes.

A young post-grad student, out on a Friday night...just trying to pass over the pedestrian overpass...when He was thrust into service to show mercy to this mother and baby...

I know that he will never forget this encounter.  I pray that the seeds planted through it will bear much fruit in his life...

There is more...but I must write later...I am so tired and overwhelmed now...please forgive me for carrying this on to another post...but I don't want to miss anything...and there's just only no more energy left at 10:30 tonight...

Humanity, Pt.1

This is likely going to be a multi-entry post.

There is simply too much to comment on over these past few days for me to write it all tonight.  It is 10 past 10 on Friday night.  Our full school week has come to a close...and I really just want to go to sleep...but, I need to get started on writing this all down, if only for my sake.

After school, the kids clamored home.  The girls (Magpie 10, The Bug 8, Potato 6 & Brownie 6) and I decided to hike to the bus stop for a trip to our major shopping center area some 30 minutes away.  As it was Friday, we were prepared for the conditions on the bus to be jammed and uncomfortable.  The reality did not refute our expectations. 

The girls found their way to little spots just big enough for them on the standing room only transportation.  I stood in the middle of the aisle...my arms repeatedly going numb from having to grasp the bars high above my head for balance.  Reminding the girls to keep their knees slightly bent and their feet a bit apart for balance we rode along.  I marveled at in year 3 here, that the children were totally unfazed by the situation.  Magpie was cracking jokes, Brownie was busy chatting up some gawkers, Potato was singing a song, and The Bug eagerly dramatized the daily school events.  This sort of scene in year one would have had 2 or 3 of them in tears, one struggling with car sickness...and me feeling totally overwhelmed.

The lady next to me in the bus, in her black polyester work pants and pumps, was loudly voicing her opinion of the overcrowded bus and directing the driver NOT to stop at anymore stops as she contended that no one else could get on anyway.

I felt it before I processed what it was...her hand...placed on the upper right side of my back.    She used me a bit for balance, but was quite comfortable, though never having even made eye contact with me...resting her hand on my back.  Instantly we were connected through that touch and I began to ponder our different cultures.

Here it is not uncommon to see male students from primary school through college to literally be hanging on each other...in a way that back There would make come "uncomfortable" with what might be interpreted as a public display of affection between a same-sex pairing.  In my English class, just this week, while I was conducting a Spelling Bee, I saw two of my fifth grade boys pleasantly holding hands...united in friendship and camaraderie.

A trip outside of our home virtually guarantees that someone, or multiple someones, will reach out and touch us.  Our kids are constantly poked, pinched, and stroked by absolutely anyone in proximity. 

I am a "touchy" sort of person, so it doesn't really make me that uncomfortable...but after awhile...you realize that here, in this mass of humanity and within this culture there simply is no concept of "personal space."

Even so, this evening I was struck at how unusual it was for me to be touched intentionally with an open hand on my back for a prolonged period of time.  I didn't find it unpleasant, I found it inclusive...that while on every occasion people notice us as "foreigners"...this women treated me like anyone else on the bus, and she touched me with no regard of my foreign status.  I felt warmed.

After pressing through the hordes at the ATM machine, submerging ourselves into the 90 degree-year-round-no-ventilation shopping mall...we made our way through a Walmart-type store to buy milk.  Real cows milk is very hard to find...and so we go to great effort every two weeks or so to travel to where they sell it.  When we buy six or more bottles of it, they look at us like we're from Mars.

We packed our little rolling shopping cart (I never go anywhere without it now) and decided we'd head out for the 2 block or so walk to the special pizza place in our area.  To make the trek we have to climb several flights of stairs to cross the massive intersections involved, but the evening was lovely, and we've developed  a great appreciation for the pedestrian lifestyle so we cheerfully walked on.

I've written in the past about seeing beggars in this area where we shop.  Often on these pedestrian overpasses the poor will hunker down, usually with a sign that tells of their dire situation...and a cup in front of them to receive any change a passerby might throw their way.  All to often for us we see adults who would have been the children of the "special needs adoption" lists of today.  Missing a limb, blind or partially blind, club feet, and other visible special needs set them apart as "unlucky"... and ashamed...

Every time we see someone begging, especially those with special needs, we pray for them and give to them.  This reality for those with special needs is a driving force for us, hoping for the day when we can alleviate some suffering...to meet the needs of those who are the "least of these."

We were carrying on our merry way over the pedestrian overpass when out of the corner of my eye I saw them...

A woman in a dirty red sweater, with a baby on her lap.  He was about 8 months old.   As I looked back I realized that he had a unrepaired cleft in his lip.  On the left side.

At first we walked past, then stopped to prepare a monetary gift to give to her.  Something to slip into her calloused hands to show her that we were compassionate to her plight.  Magpie did so...and as we turned to walk away...my spirit was so quickened... stirred that I couldn't take another step.  I was sure that that HS wanted me not to only feel compassion, to give monetarily...but to take it further...to be a conduit of His love right there, in that midst of humanity.

I turned around, walked back to her, squatted down and with throngs of ever increasing numbers of curious souls straining to see what the commotion was about...began one of the most powerful exchanges with a fellow human I've ever had...

Insomnia and The "Western Food" Booth

It is 2 am here.  I got up because I drank too much water before going to bed, to try and quell the sandpaper-like quality of my throat (possibly due to the round-the-clock trash burning going on these days that makes the air quality so terrible.)  We went to bed at 8 pm, because we could see nothing much by candlelight, as the power grid had failed again for our development.  The entire complex plunged into darkness on an otherwise lovely evening.

We're back to school tomorrow.  Starting back on Friday, of course...because that makes sense.  We will also have school on Saturday...because we had a 7 day holiday that had to come from somewhere. 

We have a second try at a "big event" here on Saturday, however.  The "Sport's Day/Garden Party" event, now in its second year will be taking place at our Living Quarters.   Just like last year, the "foreigners" (mainly Mrs. Wu and myself), will be running a "Western Food Booth," for the purpose of fundraising for the school.

Last year we sold out every single item we'd prepared...so the anticipation is high for our performance again this year.  (Even though the said "fundraising" component was not all that much to write home about.)  It is a great opportunity to interface with our community and to work for hours and hours on food preparation. ;)

We'll be offering for sale once again this year: 100 tuna salad sandwiches, 100 ham and cucumber sandwiches, 450 oatmeal raisin cookies, and iced tea.  We make "big attraction" with our foreign faces, so much so that this year the school is putting all their hopes in our booth alone...they've abandoned the hot soy milk stand they ran last year. (Still can't get into that beverage...especially the batch they accidentally scalded leaving that delicious blackened soybean flavor in every drop.)

The big girls, Magpie and The Bug are organizing a fundraising booth for Little Kevin (our still hospitalized friend.)  They have made dozens of crafts with the Wu kids and Daddy will be making "Western-style" popcorn to sell...which generally means salty, not sugared, as is the usual popcorn seasoning.  My money is on them to sell-out their wares in the first two hours or so...as their little foreign face make for an even  bigger "big attraction."

Anyway, I've got a cold, feeling lousy...and we have 200 sandwiches and hundreds of cookies to prepare...after I teach a full day tomorrow.  But the truth remains that this is a key day in our year to be a part of the community around us.  Most often we are just taking up space around these parts.  Focusing on key relationship development, language study, and keeping this family of 9 moving forward is a big job.  But, on this day, we show up and have the opportunity to contribute something to our neighborhood.  In year 3, we recognize more than ever that it is an chance NOT to be missed, regardless of my sore throat.

So much of living WITH people is like this, isn't it?  It is inconvenient, it is exhausting, and often we could find things to do that please us far more than deliberately connecting with others in our communities.  Yet, it is in community where we find out more about ourselves, identify things in us that need to be refined, and make connections with people that can ultimately have eternal significance.

With that firmly in mind, I say..."bring on the tuna!"

Back on the horse...

Time to break the silence.  "Vacation" is over...and we're back in our home in the Middle Kingdom. 

The six weeks of time we spent in the US traveling was the most hectic of anytime in our lives...and THAT is saying something.  The "blog blackout" was necessary, hopefully my creative writing juices will begin to flow again!

In the days to come I will be posting some summer photos...but at least the new H Family photo is in place with all our 9 kids (and one beloved daughter-in-law)...to update the page...definitely must start saving for a WIDE-ANGLE lens!

We began in Hawaii for the processing of our new guys' citizenship papers.  Our time was monopolized with government appointments here and there...but we did get a few beautiful days at the beach.  (Definitely not the place for a family of 10 living on a tight budget!)  We had envisioned, knowing what lay ahead over our furlough, that Hawaii would give us some rest from the massive adoption/end of school year dramas Here...but alas...no rest.

Then we arrived in our beloved home state to the warm arms of Grandparents, Aunts and Uncles.  Traveled up to our old hometown and enjoyed a day visiting and seeing our loved ones...showing photos...telling stories.  How marvelous it was to speak to a room full of people and everyone understood what we were saying!  How we used to take such communication matters for granted! 

We rushed around seeing our beloved Doctor (TUD) and our dear friend/ The Dentist and Compassionate Heart for our annual "herd health" events! After a quick stop at Children's Hospital for an evaluation of one of our new guys...we began a drive to see family in Southern California!  My baby brother was tying the knot and we were going to be there!  The drive according to MapQuest was to take 24 hours...but it took us 32...and we drove it straight through.  (This was an indication of the rest of our summer!)

After flower-girling, and savoring sweet moments with most of our extended family...we hit the road again to drive to the Midwest.  Stopping through to see an old friend and his wife...skipping the Grand Canyon...as our children prevailed upon us that "what really matters are the people we need to see!"  So, mostly driving straight through...we made it to our destination in 30 more hours of driving!

We relished our time with our other set of grandparents and our precious older kids.  Our 9 days there flew by!  We enjoyed an "annual birthday party" put on by our dear Grandma D...spent a day at an amusement park that our little ones think is the "greatest place on earth"...and enjoyed buying a few clothing items to fit just off the rack in a STORE! 

A quick sidetrip (16 hour round-trip drive) took Momma and Magpie to Nashville to do some recording for a major orphan-outreach group.  It was a wild 36 hour trip...but sooooo encouraging!

Finally we hit the road to travel back to our home state.  We stopped by our dear sister and brother-in-laws' Sunday group to share stories and pictures...it was such a beautiful morning meeting sweet souls there!  We relished a few hours with all our kids playing outside, BAREFOOT, (something our kids NEVER can do Here)...and then we hit the road again!

Four days later we arrived exhausted and road weary and Gramma's house...like a cloud of locusts, descended on their food stores...and began to contemplate the return trip.  In all we drove OVER 6200 miles, for a total of 112 hours in the car...in just 3 weeks time! 

Things we learned:

1)  A spray bottle can not be effectively used from the front seat to quiet dissension/loud noises when you're traveling though the desert Southwest...the children are BEGGING to be shot with ANYTHING that can cool them.

2)  Car seats are our friends.  Now that we live Here, we never have any such devices in our taxis, etc...however...there was a pure joy that all 7 children's bodies were STRAPPED DOWN into their seats for some of the mind-numbing hours on the road.

3)  When there are 9 bladders on a road trip, you must find a LARGE truck-stop to accommodate the bathroom stop.  A simple, two potty Shell station can slow you down and extra 30 minutes to get everyone processed!

4)  Adventures in Odyssey can eventually become a sleep-aid...to the driver!

5)  Finding a "Kids Eat Free" billboard along the Interstate is like hitting the jackpot in Vegas.

6)  Our kids are marvelous, hearty, and fun road-warriors...thanks to them...we survived!

After returning to our home state...we shopped for food items to take back with us (CHEESE and CHOCOLATE CHIPS)...traipsed around countless second-hand book stores to bring home dozens of English books...and eventually packed up 16 suitcases at exactly 50 lbs each.

We now have unpacked the books...salvaged the cheese and chocolate...and after one day of rest from our 28 hour return trip...have started back to work at the school.

It's the final countdown to the start of our third school year.  The kids are excited...the new guys really thrilled to go to the school with their siblings.

We will all begin the walk next Wednesday morning, at 7:45 am to the school building where we will rejoin our community here.  We will force ourselves back into the daily routine that propels us at light-speed through our life in this place. Our focus this year will be discerning our next step.  We had several key meetings while back in the US that open doors to future work Here...with different "steps" and "commitments" involved. 

The new guys' adjustments are coming along so well.  What we thought was a rough start at our "family bonding" to travel non-stop the first 8 weeks of family life...turned out to be (surprise, surprise) a BLESSING from Him...especially as Silas has some definite institutionalized attachment issues...or at least he DID have some major ones when he arrived.  The constant change of faces, beds, locations sort of forced the boys to see that the ONLY thing that didn't change, was this group of people who hang together through thick and thin.  There has been a good deal of healing for his little heart...in fact yesterday...as he was "visiting" his new classroom at our school...when I left, HE CRIED FOR ME!  Totally awesome development as just 8 weeks ago, never having anyone "special" in his life...he would go to ANY stranger who smiled at him...and would walk away from us without a thought...no concern for our arrivals/departures.  This year I will be working on language each afternoon and I will bring Silas home with me to put him down for nap...and special play time when he wakes...so that he will have more chance to BOND with HIS family.

On a closing note...

You know you've lived Here a while when you send your son to school without any pants on! 

It's true.  Here, diapers are rarely used...most families put their kids in split pants (literally crotchless pants that expose all their, to the Westerners'-mind, "private parts.")  Anyway, the children here are toilet trained by 15 months of age...except for our precious son from the orphanage.   He has to get it together before he can go to school each morning with us.  "No DIAPERS" was the mandate from his teacher...so, I sent him yesterday in his tennis shoes...and a LONG T-shirt to cover his parts...

Something that would have been unthinkable to me just two years ago...now seemed, almost..."the way to do it."  Some of you are experiencing full-blown culture shock from this revelation ...but I'm just amused...

To live Here, we simply must exchange some of rigid "unthinkable" matters...for those things that are "the way to do it" ....

Hope he learns quickly...as winter is on the way...and it could get pretty cold with your "privates" in the wind!

Out of the mouths of babes...

Just a flash post tonight as tomorrow we begin our enormous trip back to the US.

We have to work in the am...then two vans pick us up at 1pm to drive us the 1.5 hours to the airport...then on to Shanghai...where we'll stay overnight.  Thursday am brings the big flights to Tokyo (a 7.5 hour layover!)...and then the flight to Honolulu.  Within a few hours of arriving there we have our first of two immigration appointments for the boys.  Please, keep lifting us up.

Also wanted to pass on a precious moment we had a few days ago.

Potato, our darling who was adopted four years ago, has been pretty quiet since the boys came home. (This is not her nature.)  It seems as though watching this grieving process again has caused her to reflect and sort out the feelings she's experiencing.

Out of the blue, after several days of not mentioning his foster mother, Graham began to wail and ask me again why I wouldn't take him back there...pleading with me to go back...that he wanted her.

Potato, moved over to his side, took his little face in her hands...and began to speak with him, forcefully.

She spoke in Chinese, and then would translate to me every few minutes what her comments had been.

"Mao-tze (his foster mother) had to stay with your yeh-yey (foster father.)  She couldn't come to live in our home, she had to stay and take care of him. 

Do not be afraid, we're your family, you belong with us.  Everything is going to be okay, I promise.

You'll see Mao-tze again, in our home, just like my Nai Nai and Yeh Yeh!  She will come and visit you and our family and you'll see, it will be happy and good. "

(He wailed again with grief.  She, more intently, more passionately took his face in her hands again, caressing his cheeks an forcing him to look directly into her eyes.)

"Stop crying little brother, do not be afraid.  I promise that you will be happy and love your family.  We love you.  We waited for you.  You belong to us."

Four years ago, this week, that wise little soul did not want me to even touch her.  She would scream like I was burning her when I touched her.

How God's love has healed her heart...now she has so much to give...

Thinking on that...causes my faith to soar again.

We love, because He first loved us.

Gardening

We've been so blessed by the personal emails and posts of encouragement this week.  It's a strange thing when we live far away from the "world" we once knew.  Of course there are times that we find ourselves, minds filling with images, smells, sounds, and faces of loved ones from back There.  As we near our two year mark of living Here, we find a peaceful place that remains deep within that encourages us to experience more of Him.  While we have relationships here, Praise Him, where we can now speak our mother tongue together and understand each other's struggles at a deep level...we still find ourselves often longing for those emails and contacts from There...they mean so much to us.

I was involved in a study last night with the foreign teacher who I shared about on April 10th.  It's an amazing priviledge to share the deep things of Him with her.  She was raised in a background of absent of really any spiritual teaching.  But her wisdom, her recognition of the pure beauty of the Good News, refreshes me.  When I sit with her, often just telling her stories of how we've seen and experienced Him, showing her promises in the Book that have been life to us...she just glows as the Spirit inside her confirms His presence. 

We ended up focusing on how we manage the thoughts in our minds, those of doubt, discouragement, and fear.  I used one of my favorite analogies, of "pulling the weeds" that sprout up in our mind.  That we must do ABSOLUTELY nothing for these "weeds" to sprout.  Soon, if we're not minding the garden, we find our thoughts are overrun with weeds, thoughts that do not agree with the Word.  I conveyed to her that, just like a good gardener, we must do the work of pulling out those weeds.  By forcibly pulling them out and exchanging them for the promises and Truth in the Word.  Simultaneously planting the good food of the Word by agreeing with and claiming those promises for our lives.  Then our minds are renewed and we can walk in peace.

That's what this week has been largely about for me.  Confronting the thoughts that do not match up with the promises of the Word and exchanging those thoughts for the Truths.  It brings me to this ordinary Thursday morning, while my family peacefully slumbers on, filled up with the faith that He is doing it.  Everything related to the paperwork problems, the finances required, the time that is dwindling and the deadline of July 1 (our departure from Here to travel back for summer furlough)...they are tiny in comparison to His hand, His power, His sovereignty over the situtation.  He has called us to do this, so He will accomplish it.  Regardless of what I "see" around me, or the weedy thoughts that sprout up...I have access to a Higher Truth...that consumes these momentary troubles.

Hang on boys...your big, crazy, loud, and grateful family is coming for you.  Soon, we'll make that 25 minute drive across town and absorb you into this family...and I pray we'll help you to become good gardeners of your minds and lovers of the Truth. 

We're ready to love you, hug you, smash you into these massive group photos...

 He is doing it...He is making us family...

Floating

What a week it has been.

We had an incredible April 10th as I wrote about on the blog.  It was so encouraging, rewarding, and deeply satisfying to see fruit borne that is eternal.  Then the focus of the week was communicating about the "twins" to family, friends, and a few rubberneckers (those who just can't keep driving by because they are horrified by what they see as lives involved in a wreck.)   One week ago we were feeling excited and encouraged.

Then we began to be bombarded by difficult news, delays, sad reports from home, confidence issues, and negativity.  Gee, wonder where all that came from after our "mountain top" experience last weekend?

While we spend time each day connecting with the One who can sustain us through the storms of life...this week it seemed that the waves were higher, the swells more punishing, and just plain scary.  Yet each day, by grabbing onto the Word, reading the life-sustaining promises within it, we carried on.  For those of you who lift us us, please know how much we depend on that covering each day.  It shields us.  We know that perhaps some of you are in a stunned silence...please, we depend on your partnership in pryr.

The beautiful news is this, that in these times when the storms rage all around us, we find deeper truths that provide indescribable joy.

I told a group just last night that since we've come here, and most certainly in the past six months, it feels as though we've gone from playing little league ball to the Majors.  (Which is sort of a bad analogy as I don't really know or care much about Baseball and on my best day I wouldn't be confused with an athlete.)  There simply isn't a day where we can go on our own strength or abilities. 

For much of my past I lived as a "spiritual anorexic."  I would eat my pastor's or teacher's regurgitated spiritual food on Sunday mornings...and then starve myself the rest of the week.  Ignoring the feast of spiritual food available to me each day in the Word, I lulled myself into the belief that eating regurgitated food from someone else's feasting was "good enough" and that "that's what everybody else is doing."  Now it seems that not only would such behavior be woefully unsatisfying but would leave me without hope of surviving the storms that rage around me.

The feedback from people about the latest announcement about our life has been interesting.  As a person who struggles with "people pleasing" it presses me deeply to find my acceptance in our Lord.  That like one of the words of a song we sing to Him, "all of You is more than enough for all of me, for every thirst and every need, You satisfy me with your love, and all I have in you is more than enough."  He is all-sufficient.

We're so encouraged to know that some of you share our desire to live completely devoted to His calling.  We are indebted to those of you who have, by your example, shown us how to live as believers (not just believing in Him, but BELIEVING Him.)  I also know that there are some who read us who yearn to see devotion to something that is greater than the sparkling things of this World (money, power, fame, beauty, the perfect spouse/children.)  That there exists Someone who can fill the void that exists in everyone's inner self that demands to be satisfied.  And still others of you who shake your heads in disbelief.  I wonder if this is a thimble-full of awareness of how Noah might have felt while building that ark? ;)

For years He has been taking us into deeper and deeper water.  At first the water felt cool on our ankles but he invited us to wade out further.  Soon we had to swim to stay afloat.  Yet at all these stages we could do it under our own power.  We could use our own strengths and abilities to walk and finally to swim.  Now however, we're awaking to a new understanding of the vast ocean in which we find ourselves.  We can no longer see the shore, let alone the bottom, and we can no longer swim...for there is an end to our strengths, reasoning, and abilities. 

Yet we've discovered a beautiful Truth, that when we trust in Him fully and when we surrender in total to His plan and calling for our lives, we can STOP struggling to swim.  Though there are dozens standing on shore watching to see if we'll go under (and thankfully more of you out here in the water with us!)...we give all praise to Him as we report that we are simply floating...

We are surrounded and buoyed by His compassionate presence.  In the midst of the storm...simply floating...

"It will only hurt a little bit...not much pain"

Our dear daughter, herein referred to as "The Bug," age 8, has suffered for the past two months with a wart on the instep of her left foot.

I first became aware of it while we were away on retreat. It was her eighth birthday and I'd taken her out for some special "Mom/Daughter" time and we'd found a place to get a cheap foot massage. (For those of you readers in the West, when I say cheap, I mean about $5 for one hour of foot massage!) Anyway, it was during her birthday foot massage that she told me she had pain in this certain spot of her foot and something that was "growing" on her foot.

When you live cross-culturally, especially with kids I think, I must often suppress the trigger reflex to "freak out" every time the kids are sick. Because you see, I've been to the hospital here...and once you've seen it...you don't want to go back, for anything other than a band-aid. Now, forgive me here and allow me to say that our local hospital is the best in our city and has some very fine doctors and nurses and a generally a nice facility. However, it does not compare to the warm and inviting Doctor's office of our dear Dr. D in WC. There are no hand-stitched quilts on the walls, no private, sparkling exam rooms and certainly no cookies from the local Dutch bakery in the waiting room!

Anyway, I digress.

We always cover any health concern immediately with prayer. We have seen several miracles happen with health and injury occurances in the nearly two years that we've been here. Yet there remain a few times when, for whatever reason, we must face our fears and go to the hospital to see a Doctor.

Six weeks ago we made the first trip to the hospital to see a Doctor (no doctors in a local office, if you want to see a doctor, you go to the hospital) for the Bug's foot ailment. No longer taken aback by strangers walking into our exam room to "just see" what the problem is or walking up three flights of stairs to the blood draw room where you queue up to a large countertop that resembles a tellers' counter at a bank and has 7 phelbotomists waiting, needles in their un-gloved hands. (See earlier medical/exam posts for further description.) We received the dreaded diagnosis of wart, caused by virus and a "freezing" was required after an IV round of antibiotics! (I politely declined the IV drip which would have required us to make the 1 hour car trip back to the hospital three days in a row, and instead took home some oral antibiotics as there was some suspicion that she had a secondary infection.)

The first experience of freezing was unusual. After standing in the Dermatology Doctor's area, pressed into her office with about 20 other people who were angling for position to push their sores/moles/warts before her while 19 others spectated...we were, after nearly two hours, taken into the "Laser Room." There was no laser in sight (only an aged desk, two chairs and an wooden stool that looked just like the ones that my neighbors perch upon out in front of their shops eating noodles with wooden chopsticks.)

The Doctor brought in the liquid nitrogen in a thermos that appeared to be circa 1974. The opening at the top was stopped up with a dingy, yellowed gauze plug. She also brought in two "tool kits" that looked like they perhaps were used with the Last Emperor. They had various metal implements in them, lying in disarray like a half-hearted mechanic had just used them. The Doctor, while counseling another 2-3 patients who walked into "our" room, dipped the first implement into the "smoking" opening of the thermos. She withdrew the implement and pressed it to The Bug's foot. She repeated this three times, the Bug's eyes spilling over with tears, until she finally told us to go home and to return in two weeks.

Yesterday was the two week mark. We dutifully returned.

After elbowing our way in front of the other dermatologically challenged, a diagnosis was made that we must go to the "Procedure Room"...for a "knife poking." The Bug was immediately assured that "It will only hurt a little bit...not much pain."

Local anesthetics are not used here. They're seen as wasteful and unnecessary. The Bug was placed on a plastic sheet (the exact same material as is used to cover the billions of restaurant tables Here that, when you place your arms upon it, sticks/melts to your arms.) Underneath the plastic I could see the evidences of other "knife pokings" on a stained sheet. I prayed again for protection and strength.

It did hurt more than a little bit as the Doctor, with four assistants and a few other patients pressed in to view, used some scissors to cut away at the wart on The Bug's foot. She was so, so brave. She was so tough. She remained still while she cried out it pain as I stood by feeling sick to my stomach. Afterward, The Bug quickly composed herself and limped out of the room.

I was once again helpless and totally out of control. I was away from the "best practices" of medicine that I've grown up with in the West, cultural expectations that I'm accustomed to, and it bothered me! Yet I had to face once again the truth that "control " is an illusion, no matter where I live. Though these experiences are painful for me, as a Momma to go through, I should learn from my daughter's example. To resist my urge to panic and run. To instead be like The Bug who remained still trusting me while enduring the pain, waiting for the necessary process to end. After all, my best response is to be still, knowing that my Father is standing by my side.

Update

Well we've had a very full holiday and start to 2010. I'm amazed that we've now lived "Here" for over 18 months. So many things have settled and still much remains new each day.

I've struggled with my writing of late. Partly due to the volume of work with the Christmas performances, the English Competition and of course the ADOPTION! Wow, having gone through the adoption gamut twice before, nothing goes more smoothly...everything takes time, and the clock is ticking on our Pending Approval from China to adopt Noah Graham. All paperwork, including the USCIS clearances have to be received from our US agency in Beijing by February 26th...it's going to be very, very close.

I think that the writing block perhaps has been more due to the fact that the initial cultural "wows" have greatly reduced. Now when I have a crazy experience I don't immediately think "well, I've got to blog about that." In fact I'm more likely to say to myself "that's life Here."

Just last week, while traveling by hired car for the 45 minute trip to the Western-style food market with Mrs. Wu from the 4th floor, periodically the driver turned the car off when we stopped at lights. Apparently this was due to something malfunctioning as some 20 minutes into our trip the windshield wipers on the little van went totally wild...beating at a frenzied pace. Then, nearly simultaneously, the dashboard began to emit copious amounts of smoke. The driver pulled slightly over on the interstate (not fully off the road...as is most often the case, drivers often stop their cars in any lane of the road they care to.) Mrs. Wu and I continued in our discussions of current events when a few moments later a loud crack/crashing sound hit the outside of the van. We scurried out of the van and opted to stand in the rain and wind (at about 38 degrees) for some 30 minutes while we waited for another car to come and get us.

The above story is not interesting really, but our reaction to it, was. We did not talk about it. We did not complain about it. We did not, during our 30 minutes standing in the rain and wind on the side of the interstate with huge trucks flying by....talk about it. We continued on with our discussions and when the car arrived, got in an carried on to the market. Later that day it hit me..."I have really changed. Living Here has changed me." I, used to the luxuries and comforts of our life There, would be totally fired up and frustrated at anything that caused a delay or inconvenience in my life. Depending on my mood, a person who was too slow to vacate a parking space would actually anger me! And my requirements for comfort...they were strict. I didn't like to be too cold, too hot (70 degrees in my climate controlled home, thank you), didn't want to be too hungry, wanted to ride in my comfortable vehicle that I owned and controlled the "departure and arrival times" for it...etc.

Our first year Here we often commented about the immense level of frustration we encountered while trying to go out and get something we needed. City buses seemed loud, fumy and way too crowded. Taxis seemed dirty and to wait more than five minutes for one to pick you up...that was heinous! Lines at the check-outs that exceeded 4 people, would set my gut roiling...

But now...I don't seem to notice any of the above things. They just are what they are and we live Here so that's how it is. We had an experience last week that in the past would have ruined my mood for a large portion of the day and yet it did not rise to the level of even mentioning it with my traveling companion...

The same is true with the cold. It is every bit as cold here this year as it was last. And certainly inside it is rarely over 50-55 degrees...4 layers are mandatory for sleeping and waking time...and yet, we don't seem to mention it anymore.

Perhaps freeing our minds from our previous "comfort standards" has afforded us the often sought after sense of being content? Or perhaps we've determined that it is useless to wrestle against something that we simply cannot control?

The Chinese philosophy of thousands of years has much to do with the recognition that change is constant. While many of us from the West believe while change might be constant, we hold fast to the idea that with enough will-power, we can control our reality. Whereas many here would say that since change is constant, there is no use fighting or striving for control...to acquiesce is to find peace.

The struggles of cross-cultural life remain. We have many more challenges with relationships and the forces of culture within them than we did last year...but we also have more contentment, I believe.

In these past few months new awareness has begun to come to us regarding needs here in our community. We've begun to dream and have visions again of ways to serve our neighbors and exciting connections are being revealed to us that may lead us back to a core passion of ours: ministry to orphans. The coming weeks will hold opportunities for some meetings that will give us greater understanding about a burden on our hearts for older kids, the ones who "age-out" of the adoption world, yet remain without a family of their own. This group of kids, starting at age 14, is extremely vulnerable to exploitation (brothels, crime, servitude.) We believe that in our future, He may be calling us to be His hands and feet to meet needs of those kids here in this province. If you remember us...lift this up...we will tell you more as we know it.

Sometimes I feel as though I'm like flour being sifted...through the silver cup with the screen at the bottom, the lack of comfort and control like the grinding arm that separates and refines me more and more...

...may I continue to acquiesce to the forces...so that I might be present and available to run the race marked out for me.

Costumes ...anyone?

I finally (after 3 trips to the costume shops) remembered to bring my camera to share with you the "experience" of the costume shop scene.

To go to the costume shop one must first organize transportation. (As we are deeply ensconced into our second year here dependent only on public transportation, first one considers the bus lines and the three different exchanges one must make to get to the part of town desired.) Next, after considering that significant time would be required to simply travel there and then the complexities of negotiating for costumes would be required...a wiser approach is clearly to ask the awesome moms at our school to drive and translate.

I have mentioned in blogs past about the fact that Here, in sharp contrast to There, when one needs to buy anything you travel to the "XYZ Market area"....in this area shops peddling the exact same wares line the street of a particular area. (Whereas There...a proprietor of a shop looks to find a "niche" area where no other store offering the same wares is located.) Below is snapshot of the "Costume Rental market"...

Perhaps you can imagine why it is a good idea to go with a local...a foreigner like myself my ride down this very street and have no idea the dozens of stores right here offering costumes. On every trip I've been pressed by dozens of people trying to select their perfect frock. Big galas are the norm Here...pageantry like nothing I've ever seen before (keep in mind that 1/2 of my parents were professional opera singers in There)...this is the land of massive productions...super competition...and gowns made by the thousands!

Below, a few shots of this "inside" of the costume shops:

At long last this Thursday we traveled back to pick up the 20 sequined dressed for the girls in the elementary school, the 30 sequined dresses for the Kindergarten's performance, the 20 sequined dresses for teachers who would be dancing/singing, etc, and ONE MASSIVE gown for moi...the soloist of the night.

At times like these when we're deeply involved in these matters that seem, well, silly, in the scheme of eternity...I often have to pause and listen the HS more closely about WHY we're here, WHY we're doing these things. As we are receiving glances of opportunities to do work beyond the school, we're often up late at night asking...what is the purpose of this? Our whole team, in fact, has discussed this at our weekly meeting.

This week I received a powerful reminder through a message given some time ago by a guy who leads a large fellowship in the Dallas area. He was powerfully reminding us that we must run with perseverance the race marked out for US. That, according to the text from which he was teaching, for some we will shut the mouths of lions in the race He's called us to...and for others...we will suffer much for the good news. I thought about it and neither situation describes the race we've been called to here...so what gives?

We came Here to be obedient...to love and to share with anyone He leads into our path the hope of our lives. So many are watching up close and personally in our community and now more newspaper articles and magazine spreads have been done on our large brood and the "why Here" question always comes to the fore.

The aria I sang on Friday night was "I love "This Country"." And as I prepared for months for it I was constantly tangled and frustrated by the language...exasperated that I could not learn it. But finally on Friday morning, a breakthrough, as I started my day with prayer my focus narrowed. The performance would be a by product of the hours of rehearsals with the 8 teachers who danced behind me...the students who we live with and teach everyday who would be watching....and the 1000+ people who would hear me sing the song are those who watch our family and how we "do life" everyday here in our community. Did our lives reflect that we truly "love" this country?

We do love this country...we love her people...not because life is easy or comfortable, but because He placed a deep love for this place in our hearts.

In all we do Here (EVEN in the seemingly silly), for as long as He has us here...may our lives be fountains of the love that only He can give...remembering that He longs for them to know how much HE loves this country...we are to be the "grace-filled, gift-givers" of that profound love, while here in this time. Pray for us...that we will not allow the discomfort, discouragements and our own numerous failings of our flesh block the flow of this vital work...for it is by His grace and for His renown, alone.