One More Home

This weekend I was treated to a wonderful conference hosted by Orphan Care Alliance  called Help Hope Heal. (Try saying that three times fast, somehow I always end up talking about Ron Popeil) This is the second year I've attended, and this year had me sitting in front of different speakers than I listened to last year, discussing different topics all with one focus - to help those who have decided to love the orphans of the world. The audience is a mish-mash of foster parents, social workers, church ministry people, and adoptive parents. We love our kids. We want what is best for our kids. We want to see our children thrive and succeed in life. But, we also realize one important thing - it ain't easy. Adoption, fostering, orphan care work always includes some form of grief and is often mixed with neglect, abuse, and abandonment. To have a child experience these types of pain at such an early point in their life means that there are going to be hard moments, challenging m

 " Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice.   Be kind to one another, tenderhearted,  forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you." Ephesians 4:31-32, ESV It has become apparent to me that I have been knock-my-socks-off, overwhelmingly, abundantly blessed by God with the people He has placed in my life. Truly, I am surrounded by some Jesus-loving women who seek God's will and strive to live in obedience to Him. They encourage me, they support me, and they don't think I'm crazy when I share with them what I feel God has in store for my life, no, they just keep lifting me up in prayer. They are each different and unique and they are precious, precious treasures to me. So, this afternoon I spent my lunch hour sharing a meal with one such friend. She's a foster mom who gave up her career in nursing to stay home, homeschool the children she had at the time and then she and her husband s

When reading about the fatherless, or watching a television segment about orphaned children, oftentimes statistics get thrown into the mix. The number of children in foster care, the percentage of orphans that become the victims of human trafficking, the number of children left parentless due to AIDS. Sometimes it's in the hundreds of thousands, sometimes it even reaches into the millions. It's a lot to take in. Statistics like these are meant to catch our attention, to shock our senses, or in more modern terms, "mind blown." I've used these figures myself, and I'll probably do so again because I'm trying to get whoever I'm speaking with to get the big picture of what I'm sharing. To realize the severity of the global orphan crisis. The problem with these grandiose numbers is that, while they can leave us speechless, they can also leave us feeling overwhelmed. While I want you to come alongside me in caring for the orphans, the problem appears

In an area outside of Port Au Prince, Haiti, there is a cluster of buildings surrounding a gravel parking area. On the outside, everything appears to be a greyish white color, as if every surface is coated with a layer of dust. This is where I came to visit the Box. The Box has four concrete walls, a roof, and a concrete floor. There are windows cut into the walls but no curtains. The Box has no running water and no toilet or bathroom to speak of. There is more than one level to the Box, but there are no beds in the sleeping area and nowhere to sit except a few wooden or concrete benches. The Box didn't have any toys or books that I could see, no bright pictures on the walls to stare at. The Box is where 40 children live. I refuse to say the Box is home to 40 children because I don't think anyone would find that it fulfills the definition of "home." It simply is a box. The barest of places. A concrete containment unit for 40 young lives. One step up from sit

" Don’t let anyone think less of you because you are young. Be an example to all believers in what you say, in the way you live, in your love, your faith, and your purity" 1 Timothy 4:12 During a road trip to South Carolina this spring, God gave me the unexpected gift of a new friend. There's more than a few years separating our ages, but by the first rest stop, we already had the start of a never-ending inside joke, had laughed so hard we cried, and determined that for now and forever more, the world will be her oyster.  We crack each other up on a regular basis, even if someone else wouldn't find us funny. We probably laugh way too loud during our regular lunch dates over buffalo chicken nachos and wings, and have a little more fun than we should with our hashtag filled texting. We scream when we see each other, and she's always an excellent go to for a good hug.   But above all else, she's a Jesus-loving, God-following young woman who has become s

One car has a dead battery, leaving my teenager stranded at the store.  All three males in the house come down with some sort of cold virus leaving them feverish, achy, and miserable. While pulling out of the drive, running behind for school as usual, my van has a completely flat tire.  Browsing through the mail pile I have ignored for way too long, it comes to my attention that we have some unexpected expenses that need to be paid. In less than two weeks, I'll be boarding a plane again, this time on my way back to Haiti. We'll be doing four days of medical clinics, visiting the local orphanages, and spending time with the church we partner with. I've been doing fundraising yard sales, attending team meetings, and trying to get both my mind and my heart ready to go. After all, this isn't a vacation, it's a mission trip. It isn't just about having fun with my sweet brothers and sisters, which I'm sure to do, but more importantly, this trip is abo

I hated gym class. For those of you who saw Physical Education class on your schedule and thought "Easy A!" please note all I saw was a designated fifty minute portion of my school day that would be torture. I'm no athlete. Short of the square dancing portion of the class that was mildly entertaining, the rest of the year was carried out like a prison sentence. I do not choose to be here, fellow students, but I am forced to endure learning the rules of badminton so I may then take the tools of the trade and swing like a spaz at some tiny little plastic object, failing to make any contact as it hits the floor. So, it may seem I have lost my mind, possibly been abducted by aliens and replaced with a clone, or suffered some brain trauma that has resulted in a personality overhaul when I say, "I've become a runner." Okay, technically, at this point, I think it's more like a jog sprinter with a form that gets slightly worse as I make my way through my wor

After working on the laundry this evening, I feel it's time to come clean, to own up to my obsession, my collection, my own personal clothing addiction...... TA-DA! ( this isn't even all of them, friends...)   T-shirts. Cottony comfort in a rainbow of colors. I love 'em. I'd wear them every day, everywhere. Some are your standard material, others are so soft and stretchy. Some are large, and some of them are extra-large because you just don't know when you're going to wake up and demand that your clothing be loose and baggy, because you just aren't in a form-fitting kind of mood, and pass the chocolate already! However, in my defense, I've purchased every single one of these for a reason. (besides the fact that I can always use another t-shirt contrary to what my husband may say, and despite the way I stuff them like sardines into my dresser drawer before applying the right amount of force to shut said drawer without any little flaps of fab

If you've ever read my blog before today, then you may realize that not only have I made a few changes to the appearance, but I've changed the name of the blog completely. While I may still play with fonts, colors, and the background, I'm hoping to stick with the new name. One More Home During the adoption process, most families will have a fundraiser or two to try and help with the cost of bringing their little one home. We were no different, and one of the ways we have tried to raise funds was through the sale of t-shirts. I worked with my fabulously talented friend Lucy who is handy dandy at designing such things. I knew I wanted something big and bold across the front, but, what should our shirt say? I searched the internet for ideas and I finally stumbled upon the slogan, "One More Loved." It's a lovely sentiment, but I didn't like the fact that, between the lines, it could be read that this child was not loved until they reached our family. And,

Before I get to the heart of this post, I just wanted to note I wasn't expecting to write today. There may be some disorderly thoughts and rambling, but when GOD shows up in a big way, you just have to stop everything and give Him the praise He deserves. To bring you up to date, I did two things last week, I wrote the preceding blog post and then I leaped out into the faith-filled unknown. Again. I'm going back to Haiti. I'm fairly sure I've lost my mind, but I hope I've exchanged it for the one where God's in control and I'm just walking where He leads. I wrote the deposit check out knowing full well our dossier payment is coming up, but after Mike and I talked, we decided I need to step back out onto the mission field. It's where God wants me. And, so that's where I'll go. Last night I talked with a lovely young woman who said in regards to adoption, "I just don't know where we'd get the money." To which I replied with a l

Did you know I'm already the mother of my own personal three ring circus? I, myself, was not aware of this fact until a couple of years ago when we did some family counseling. But seated in that tiny room listening to my children explain just how life was in our home, I realized that it was far more exciting than how I remembered it. Quite frankly, to my children it seems, we're a non-stop source of action and entertainment. It wasn't always this way. My eldest child, who is now seventeen, wasn't my first pregnancy, he was my third. Within the first year of marriage, I had suffered not one, but two, miscarriages. It left both my body and my spirit bruised and battered. I didn't want to spend time with people who had babies, didn't want to hold or even look at a baby, didn't want to discuss babies, period. So, when that third pregnancy came to be, I just put it in the back of my mind and didn't do much in the way of celebration. I ate healthy, got my

"For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven" Ecclesiastes 3:1 On July 3, 2013 I wrote a  post  entitled "Let the Home Study Begin!" On June 5, 2014 I received an email from my social worker that our home study was complete, that our I-800 is sitting safely with the US Government waiting for approval, and instructions on how to begin putting together our dossier. Almost one year since we began. One. Year. * Sigh* I thought it was going to go much faster than that. I was so excited the day of our first interview. I was vibrating with energy, ready to get this thing done. But then the unexpected happens, and what you proudly claimed would take six months, takes almost twice that long. When you look at the projected time line for your adoption process, you realize, you're going to be closer to the greater amount of time then the quickest. Now? Now, I feel like I'm stuck inside the classic fable of the tortoise and the hare

When I packed my bags to head out to Kenya, I had more than a few expectations for the trip. I expected the flights to be long and for jet lag to be a thing to overcome. Praise that God was gracious to give us energy that week, even though we came rolling into Nairobi having gotten little to no sleep and traveling for over 24 hours. I expected to enjoy warmer weather than what I left behind, and it was glorious! Oh, how I miss those sweet days in the sun. I expected to fall in love with some precious faces, and I so very much did. At last count, I think we were ready to bring 5 kids home, but it just wasn't something we could work out in a week's time. What I didn't expect to find was courage, boldness, and awesome lives of inspiration in faces I had never met before I got on the plane to other half of the globe. I love a good story. Case in point, while traveling those many hours in the plane, and thanks to a few sleepless hours during the night, I finished 3 books dur

I began this morning by making this a Facebook message, but after the list of recipients continued to grow and grow, I threw in the towel and just decided to make this a blog post. If someone in another part of the world happens upon this post, that's just fine. My only hope is that they would join in praying for this trip as well. I figure no one ever puts a limit on the number of prayers said on their behalf. That'd be just silly. We are just three days from leaving for our trip to Kenya. I have not completely lost my sanity yet, but I have been busy trying to remember all the things, great and small. Will I forget something? Most likely, but it won't be because I didn't make a to-do list which I have added to, checked off, and looked at more than once a day. My bedroom floor is littered with luggage, back packs, and carry-ons in various states of packing. This time around I have to pack for everyone. While my husband and I are going across the globe, our kiddos are

In my last post I shared that there were things going on in my little corner of the world. Plans in motion. Exciting times. So much so, I'm having a hard time trying to figure out how to explain what's on my heart. Can I go back in the past a little? Mind taking a glance to days gone by before we shoot forward? Two things stand out to me: First, our family's first attempt at beginning the adoption process. I know I've shared it before, but when we filled out our paperwork the first time, we felt we were answering God's call. But......let me have a little exposed honesty moment with you. I really, really, really wanted to adopt for little old me as well. I wanted the fun and the adventure. I wanted something new and exciting that other people would get excited about as well. Shame on me for feeling this way, but it was like signing up for a special club. Not that this was my complete motivation, but these selfish, pride-producing feelings were there. So, lookin