The Neva

The Neva River teases the city of Saint Petersburg.  You can walk a few blocks and cross the Neva, walk a few minutes more in the same direction and you’ll cross it again.

Just like the Neva, I have gone to places I would never have dreamed I’d go.  I have flown over the Atlantic five times.  I can say enough Russian words to embarrass myself.  And, one lesson I have learned is that no two adoptions look the same.  There are three of us families walking along the same Neva and we have become the very best of friends.  Each time, our visits to see our children have been only days apart and yet our views are rarely the same.  Our stories are as unique as the children we are adopting. 

But some things are the same.

Every orphan came from a family.  On our first trip to Russia, we met our daughter’s sister.  She was the captain of our journey in many ways.  Our child has a lot of family out there, and because her sister was brave enough to be her voice, she was able to help us take the first steps in making our daughter ours.  On this third trip, she presented us with an envelope full of baby pictures and photos of her birth parents and other relatives.  Then, she lovingly introduced us to more of our daughter’s birth family.  To our surprise, her babushka (Grandmother) speaks English very well and greeted us with warmth and love.  Our minds can relax, knowing that she trusts us to love her grand-daughter.

Every orphan has a best friend.  For our daughter, her name is Sasha.  We arrived on Sasha’s 16^th birthday; a day that brings fear for an orphan because they are no longer required to be in the orphanage.  We asked the director if we could be permitted to steal Sasha for the day and play in the city.  She is a wonderful woman and allowed us to take both girls for as long as we wanted.  The girls spent hours giggling and posing for pictures together at certain popular sites… and ironically close to a Baskin Robbins!

 

Every orphan has a name.  One day, we walked into the orphanage to a scene that could break your heart.  Three little girls in plaid dresses and braided hair swinging on their shoulders, walked down the hallway carrying tin buckets with soapy water splashing out.  One carried a mop in her right hand and moved slowly behind the others.  The others struggled under the weight of their buckets.  That morning, they were just three cute little girls.  A few hours later, they had names of their own, personalities that drew you to them, and smiles that stole your heart.  After several days with these little girls, they have changed my life forever.  

Every orphan has a future.  We will never know day to day what lies ahead, and I’m sure there are going to be days when I’m holding on tight to a life jacket and doing whatever it takes to keep my head above the water, but every parent has those moments.  The thing is, when I look into her eyes and we hold our stare, I can see how desperately she is holding onto me.  Her eyes plead for me to love her.  I am so full of joy knowing that I get the chance to show her that I love her every single day.  I know that our family is her hope, and she is trusting us with her entire life.

But my little girl isn’t an orphan anymore. 

This little girl’s past is a mystery, and like the Neva there will bridges we have to cross.  Her future is patiently waiting for her to discover who she is going to become and the best part is… I get to be there for it all from this day on!

As for me, I will always have hope; I will praise you more and more.
Psalm 71:14

Catching Fish In A Mailbox

I’ve never been called a fisher-women.  I don’t like worms, fish, or smelly things, and as I’ve mentioned before, my patience level isn’t very high.  I think that title probably belongs to men anyways.  

So, naturally… one of the evening events this past July with the Russian tour was spent putting creepy, wiggly, smelly, brown worms on some hooks and throwing them into the family’s pond… and waiting.  Then, after we did that for a few hours, they suggested we eat!  With the same fingers that had just minutes earlier held the creepy, wiggly, smelly, brown worms!  Really?!?

That night was not my favorite! 

So, naturally… it was our little girl’s!  She screamed and wrinkled up her body every time someone put a worm on the hook for her (thank you Pop Pop).  She swung that pole over her head, and about half the time, she remembered to release the hook out into the pond.

Once it was out there, she waited.  Patiently and full of hope.  In her mind, she knew that some innocent fish would bite that creepy worm and she would be rewarded for her patience.  

     

We have officially been apart for five weeks!  FIVE!!! 

While we were in St. Petersburg, our process took off and we completed a lot of official paperwork and did all that we could do at that time.  Since then, we have waited for a little, bitty letter to arrive from Moscow.  Once the letter arrives, we can file for a court date and order ourselves some plane tickets. 

That letter usually comes… about two weeks ago.

Today, it was a beautiful spring day in Colorado, and if I thought walking myself down to the closest pond would help.  I would dig in the dirt with my own fingers until I came across a creepy, wiggly, smelly, brown worm.  I wouldn’t even call my dad to put it on a hook.  I would bate that little thing and throw it into the pond, muster up every ounce of patience I have, and wait for my reward. 

My little lady caught her first fish that night.  I pray I catch mine… in a mailbox on Monday morning!

Ice Cream in the Artic

"Is it too cold for ice cream?"

The great thing about the way our trips are organized is that everyday allowed us time to take our little girl out for a date.  We would have been fine with just sitting with her at the orphanage, but she was anxiously waiting for us after school each day and had no intentions on staying in the home. 

The city was at her fingertips, and each day we presented her with ideas we had gathered from the tourist book in our hotel.  She thoughtfully considered all her options, and then told us and the driver, “To the airport!”  Our baby girl just wants to go home!

Knowing that I’d be sent to jail for any attempt of just taking her now, we convinced her to stay in St. Petersburg and treasure every second together… hand in hand.  On Tuesday, we laced up some ice skates and ungracefully glided across the ice.  We laughed so hard as we took turns pushing each other backwards and spinning each other around in circles.  Then, of course we ended our time together with ice cream… I mean it was only -9 outside!

“Can I dance here?”

Wednesday we had her to ourselves for the entire day!  There is nothing quite like the Hermitage Museum, which is housed in the Winter Palace.  The palace is like several White Houses placed side by side and painted just beautifully.  Just looking at it takes your breath away.  We assumed it would be too common for her, but she was in awe of the chance to visit because she hasn’t been since she was 9 years old.  She asked to start with the Egyptian artifacts because she had just studied Egypt in school.  She had the translator tell her every little detail and she nodded along excitedly. 

Art pieces by Monet, Da Vinci, Rembrandt, Van Gogh, Michelangelo… all impressive.  But… when your little girl stands in the main ballroom of the Royal family and slowly spins in a circle… time freezes and the music comes alive.  She is my Russian princess, and I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.  She smiles at me, grabs my hand and my heart dissolves.       

"Can I have some soup?"

The children know that they will be asked if they had soup while they were out.  She can proudly say yes, and much, much more.  Our coordinator had taken us to a little restaurant that makes the greatest soups and pies, and we knew we should take her there.  She ate twice as much as I did and savored every bite!  The best part of each meal was that she would come alive with chatter while we sat around the table.  She asked so many questions and told us a lot about herself.  I can’t wait for the day that we can just talk straight to each other… because that little girl can talk!

“Now to the airport?”

After lunch, she tried again to get the driver to go to the airport.  He just laughed with her and said he would get in trouble!  So, instead, we visited the original island of St. Petersburg and went inside the St. Peter and Paul Cathedral.  It was so majestic!  The most detailed carvings and all covered with a thin layer of gold.  Again, she hungered for the history.  She wanted to know about each historical detail and royal burial.  We have a smart little girl, and it fills me with joy to know that she loves history too!

And also, just like her mama, she loves her chocolate!  We had some time left before we were expected back at the orphanage, and she didn’t want to go back until she absolutely had to, so we hit the town for the famous Russian Pilini.  I ordered mine with chocolate and bananas, so did she, with a smile beaming across her face!  Normal people fill it with meat, pork, potatoes… but not us!

As we inhaled our treats, she took the opportunity to ask us about how we celebrate the holidays in our family.  Her eye lit up at the thought of presents from two sets of grandparents and aunts and uncles.  We told her, that we read two different stories on Christmas Eve and then cuddle together in our bed… 2 adults + 3 kids + 2 dogs… this year will be interesting!  She loved the idea and can’t wait to be a part of it!

“My Russian Sister”

Months ago, her sister “friended” me on Facebook.  What started out timidly quickly grew into two loving people, sharing the same hopes for a little girl they both care about.

Her sister has shared their entire family history, pictures of our daughter as a baby, a toddler, and all the stages up to now.  She tells me the funny things, like how she refuses to wear a coat in the winter, how she is a stubborn child, how smart she is and can do anything she attempts to do.  She has taught me about my daughter’s past, and I am forever grateful. 

She sent me her phone number, and while we were there, our coordinator arranged a lunch date for us to meet.  We walked into the small café and noticed a tiny, little thing sitting by herself in the corner.  She looked scared.  I walked over to her, varified it was her, she nodded and stood, and we quickly hugged.  Her tiny body felt tiny in my arms and our hearts raced with an overload of emotions.  That’s all it took before the tears filled our eyes.  As she looked deeply into my eyes, I could see every emotion she was feeling.

We both had dozens of questions for each other, and to say we were grateful for our translator is an understatement.  She’s young, very young, and has two children of her own.  She works hard and is very talented.  But, the burden of taking in a teenager is just too much.  I can see that it breaks her heart, but she assures me that she knows a family is what is best for her sister.  She loved hearing about our families and our kids, and we’ve agreed to meet her kids on our third trip.  Then, after two hours of constant chatter, the fear was out of her eyes and a smile spread across her face.  I think it's hard for others to understand my need to know this girl, but her happiness means the world to me.  She is part of my family now.  I plan to visit her and share many wonderful years together... as sisters.

We drove her home and held on to each other the whole way.  Finally, my curiosity got the best of me and I had to know how good I would look in her beautiful Russian hat!  We got silly and took some pictures together as we giggled like sisters!  Priceless! 

“Funny Faces and a Little Surprise”

“To the airport!” she tried again on Thursday!  We compromised with bowling and ice cream.  I remembered how much she liked taking pictures with my camera when she was out in July, so as we took turns bowling, we took turns with the camera.  There were more pictures of my backside that had to be deleted then there should ever be!  After every roll of the ball, we knew we had to turn around and strike a pose or make a face because that camera would be flashing at us!  She was so playful and silly the whole time.
 

Later, while once again inhaling ice cream in subzero temperatures, I turned the camera to play and asked her if she would like to see a surprise.  She nodded.  I clicked to one of pictures of her sister and I, turned the camera to her, and watched her face closely.  How would she react?  Her eyes widened and she smiled!  “When, how, where???”  She couldn’t believe that we met, but you could tell it pleased her!  I explained everything to our translator and she told her about our lunch date.  I spared no details.  I wanted her to know that protecting their relationship is very important to us.  That made her happy, too!
 
Before long, it was time to take her back and say our goodbyes.  She cried her own tears as she wiped away mine.  She told me, “It’s ok.  It’s ok.”  And it will be.  We knew we wouldn’t get to see her on Friday, and then we’d be headed home… which is where we are now, as I write… somewhere up in the air past Ohio, on our way home! 

As long as I write, I can smile and imagine each second replaying through my words.  Each time I talk about her, my heart skips with love, excitement and joy.  Leaving the St. Petersburg airport was the worst feeling I’ve ever felt, my heart felt broken, my lungs felt crushed, and my mind raced.  But now, I can look forward, knowing that there is nothing to do but trust in God’s perfect timing.  And soon (hopefully in 6 weeks)... I will see that precious little face again!

From Lukas... Anything to avoid bedtime!

Dear America,

Hi, I’m Lukas and I’m Shannon’s son.  Yes of course this is about my sister. Oh… she is very nice and I just love how she plays soccer and in Russia, Americano football! One thing I’m excited for is that she can help me pick on my other sister Ashley. She also very fun to play with!!!!! As I think you see, I love sports, and I love that there actually  is a family member (other than Dad) that might actually beat me. :( But hey the world is not sports so there has to be more! Correct there is more! So here! She is very playful, so Ashley and I can play games with her! Also she’s very understanding.  Once more, another good thing! SHE’S KIND! She’s very nice to other people!

Wow! There’s a ton of things that are good but I must have to go on! So now I’m going to write about the great memories I had with her over that week she was here! Well here’s one good thing that happened over that week!

Earlier that week we had to miss smores with the group, so one night we went outside around 9:00 and while we were waiting for our smores to cook I grab a soccer ball and started kicking it at the shed and she said “Pass”, so of course I passed it to here and we went back and forth passing and trying to see who could get by each other first! I don’t remember who won but it was still so much fun!

Another thing happened that night and it was when we were supposed to be going to bed and instead we hopped in mom and dad’s bed and wrestled to stay and their bed. But sadly dad carried us out of his bed.

There were a ton of great things about her and great memories but now I have to go to bed. So I guess this is bye.

Bye America,

          Lukas

The Humbled Plea

I’m taking a deep breath and asking for God’s blessing as I begin to write this entry.  It’s very hard for me because I deeply want to set a good example of following the call of God and accepting and understanding the adoption process.

Every part of my being, believes that everyone is called to care for the widows and orphans...

“Pure and genuine religion in the sight of God means caring for the orphans and widows in their distress and refusing to let the world corrupt you.” (James 1:27)

... but certainly, not every person is called to adopt an orphan.  We were.

If you’ve read any part of my blog then you surely know just how deeply we love this little girl.  We will do anything for her.  But, we can’t do this alone. 

When we first started talking about adopting her, a friend said it would cost about $15,000.  My mind shut down there, and I tried to convince myself to walk away from this adoption.  At the time, that was more than I made in a year.  There was no way this could go any farther.

Then, we put that little stinker on the plane after our fairytale week together, and I didn’t care if it cost me every penny that I would make for the rest of my life.  That little child was not going to go through life hungry for a family of her own.  Money was irrelevant.  SHE was all that mattered. 

Now, seven months later, our savings have run out and we are applying for grants.  So far, we haven’t received anything, but we are being patient and prayerful that our hearts will be heard by the right organization, and they will help lift this financial burden.  The amount of $15,000 was just a fraction of what it would actually end up costing.  The final number we are looking at is $35,000.  In some odd way, it’s less intimidating because it’s just so unimaginable to us.  But the bottom line hasn’t changed.  Whatever it takes to get her home!

My plea to you, is to join us in “caring for the orphan.”  You don’t have to adopt a child of your own (yet), but will you come along side a family that is doing what God has asked them to do?  Are you willing to talk to your spouse, or your mom and dad, or your friends… and become part of our story?  I know how many of you read this silly blog… I know because I feel it in your prayers.  I know because I see it in your eyes when you ask about our latest news.  I know you read because you are precious friends that care about our growing family.

Tonight, I humbly ask you to be part of our journey.  Your prayers are our first and most important need, and any financial help you can provide would be appreciated more than words can say.  We have added a PayPal button to the blog to make it convenient, but you can always swing by the house and be forced to look at the thick pile of pictures from our first trip, if you prefer! 

Your friendship, your encouragement, and your love have meant the world to us… thank you for standing by our side through every step of this adventure!  We will continue to share little glimpses of our story as it unfolds.       

Much love,

Shannon (and Chad too)

At long last...

It’s our last night in St. Petersburg… and I should probably just stop writing here.

My heart is barely a few blocks away right now, and I can feel that hole that has been filled for the week, quickly draining again.  This week has been like an little adventure with interruptions from a fairy tale.

Here is a small taste of our first day together again!

Our first stop in St. Petersburg was to The State Adoption Center so that we could receive our official referral.  A referral allows you to visit a child and decide if you would like to pursue them for adoption… so I really would have liked to skip this step and jump right into the court meetings!  It’s procedure though, so we did it, had some authentic Russian lunch and drove over to the orphanage.  



Lunch with our coordinator!

Right as we first walked into the orphanage, one of the girls I met this summer on the tour was walking down the stairs, and I called out her name.  She is 15 now, which means that by May she will age out of the orphanage.  Because of that, she’s been on the hearts of many of us that met her, so it’s only fitting that I would run into her right from the start.  She turned around and came running down for a hug.  Off she went with a big smile. 

Next, we were told to wait at the top of the stairs while the adoption coordinator met with someone.  She said she would be with us in a few minutes. 

Just then, the huge door that leads to the children’s hall opened up and my beloved little girl snuck her head around.  Our eyes caught instantly, and at the exact same time, we each let out a shout of joy and ran to each other screaming and laughing.  Her arms wrapped so tightly around my neck that I couldn’t have escaped if I had to!  We just stayed in that embrace for a few seconds… and cried as seven months of waiting instantly disappeared. 

Our second hug after seven months apart!

She pulled us into the hallway, drug us around to meet all her friends and talked as fast as our poor translator could go.  We showered her with small gifts, mostly drawings and letters from her siblings and cousins and all her new friends at church that are waiting back home to meet her.  We got to see all the little places that are part of her normal day, and then… a special treat!  She yelled for her friends and pulled us into the dance studio.  She told us to sit, and suddenly, six little girls began dancing to “Once Upon a December.”  It was graceful and beautiful… and just for us!

 

The girls doing the dance in the orphanage dance studio.

As soon as the dance ended, we were pulled into the director’s office to open her file and hear all the details of her past.  In our time together, they teased me that I wouldn’t be allowed to adopt her because there wasn’t enough age difference.  Russian law states that there has to be at least a 16 year difference.  They claimed I was 26… and instead of adopting… I should BE adopted by the director!  Instead, we made an agreement that I can live in the orphanage for the next two months… wait a second… why am I coming home then???  Turn this plane around!

Once the official business was taken care of, we sat down on her bed and began to catch up on conversations that I’ve wanted to have for months!  I asked her if she thought of us at night, she eagerly said yes.  I asked if she looked through the pictures of our time together, and she does so much that she doesn’t have just one favorite… they are all her favorite.  She went on and on about her brother and sister that are waiting at home for her, she can't wait to stay up late and whisper secrets to her little sister, and she talked about Libby and Alex, who are going to lick her face all over... just to be clear… they are the dogs!  She remembers it all and misses it all! 

But the thing that this mama loved the most, was that she wanted to leave with us, "NOW!" At that very second, she was ready to gather up her things and be on her way… HOME.

Teach Me To Breathe Again

As we leave Saint Petersburg...

I close my eyes and instantly my body is pulled into a world that isn’t quite real, but at least I’m aware of it. Everything feels heavy, but at least in this world I can feel my mouth take in the air and swallow it down to my lungs. I tell my eyes to open, to be aware of the earth below me, to take in the beautiful European countryside, but there’s no reaction.  My body gives in to the darkness and my mind finds peace in the chance to relive a few moments of utopia. 

My body is shaken, and I know that I am supposed to wake up.  I resist it.  My eyes squeeze shut and try to find the music again.  It’s gone now. I open my eyes for just a second, and just as quickly as I allow myself back into the real world, my lungs close. There is no air.  There is no music.  I fight to control the crushing that is beginning to take away my breath.  I choke once and the tears fall from eyes in streams as steady as a spring river.  There is no chance of stopping it.  I grab for my pillow and hold it to my face as I stare out the window, crying endlessly.   

I can’t control this heartache; I must return to the music and allow my eyes to give in to the weight that pulls them closed.  At least here, I can breathe.... 

Dresses... Curls... Mascara... and Joseph!

Our summer was nothing short of organized chaos. 

My littlest lady spent all 3 months of summer doing Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat at the Candlelight Dinner Playhouse.  

While the children were visiting Colorado, there was a pretty full calendar of fun outings planned. 

Yet, there was one Saturday night open.  I talked with Ashley’s director, and he allowed her to have the night off and sit with her Russian friend in the audience.  Ashley was excited to see the musical from the other side of the stage.  We were both happy to avoid one more baseball game of Lukas’ and take our sweet friend to something that means so much to our family.  That theatre is Ashley’s second home for several months each year. 

We got ourselves dressed up.  Once again, the girls started with their nails!  Then, our “tall daughter” took the “short one” to the bathroom and started curling her hair.  They giggled, but I’m pretty sure Ashley was expecting to have her ear burned off.  Next, I got to add some ringlets to “the tall ones” hair.  The girls added some mascara to their eye lashes, and off we went. 

I had spent the night before translating the general storyline in each scene and the songs… and printed her a “Russian program.” 

Dresses… check.
Curls… check.
Mascara… check.
Russian program… check.
Odd little girls… always check!

The camera didn’t stop clicking all the way to the theatre.  Two silly girls, passing the camera back and forth.

Blond.  
Brunette. 
Blond. 
Brunette. 
The pictures are ridiculous!

As we waited for the show to begin, she read through her “program.”  She seemed to understand.

There’s just something about the theatre.  My heart filled with joy every time the fake school bell rang and those sweet little kiddos ran out to the stage.  I watched her reaction.  Would she smile, like I do?  She looked confused, but then, laughed out loud at the chaos.  I smiled.  She was like me.  Then, she stared as Miss Melissa let her voice soar, and began to tell the story of Joseph.  I’m not sure she blinked during the whole song.  I never did either.

Each time Miss Melissa sang, she stared.  As Potiphar came strolling onto the stage in his wonderful costume, she giggled.  When his wife came out, I covered her eyes!  When Joseph cried from the chains of jail, she discreetly wiped the tears from her eyes.  One part I always enjoyed was in Canaan Days, when the brothers exaggerated a note and held it ridiculously long.  She started clapping before anyone else in the audience.  She loved it!  Who cares what they were singing about, the point was, they could sing... and she knew it!

It was a magical night, to see a young girl, so full of talent herself, sit on the edge of her seat and take in her first musical production.

The girls after the show.

There were two moments that are frozen in my memory.  When the first act was about half way in, Ashley laid her head against her future sister’s arm.  She reached over and took Ashley’s hand, and for the rest of the first half, they stayed, hand in hand. 

Later, during the second half, Ashley pulled her legs up into her dress because she was cold.  Instantly, her protective “big sister” took off her sweater and wrapped Ashley up in it.  Then, she wrapped her own legs up in her dress.  I snuck outside to get a coat from the car, and even though they were comfortable, the two little girls sat side by side with their legs inside their sundresses. 

Not knowing then what God had planned for our lives, it was moments like those that showed me that the love of true sisters is not in the words they speak; it’s the language of their hearts.

"She Said Yes!"

On September 4^th I looked down at my phone to see that I had missed a message from Miss K.  I quickly called her back, pulling over my car because I knew, either way, this phone call was going to change our lives…

The orphans came to visit Colorado during the last week of July.  In mid-August, the director had all the host families over for dinner.  We talked about the children that we were all missing, and the wonderful week we had shared.  Then, when everyone else left, we turned to Mr R and asked him to explain the course of adoption.  By the end of the evening, we left his house with the promise that he would ask our child if she would like to be adopted by us. 

The only problem was, the children were away at summer camp, and we would have to wait for her to return.  Time was passing slowly as we waited for her response.

I held my breath as the phone rang twice.   Then I could hear the smile in Miss K’s voice as she simply said, “Hello” in her charming Russian accent.

She didn’t waste any time telling me that our child had spent some time with her sister over the weekend and both of them said “Yes!”  We chatted for a few more minutes, and then we hung up, knowing we would be seeing a lot more of each other in the next year.  I turned to Ashley and started crying.

“She said YES!” I whispered.  We just sat there with our arms twisted around each other as tears fell quickly from both our cheeks.  Our precious child was 12 years old at the time, and has the right to accept or decline the adoption.  I knew in my heart she enjoyed her stay, but that isn't the same as accepting an invitation to join a family forever.  

“I knew it!” Ashley said, through the biggest smile. 

First things first, we had to decide how we were going to tell the boys.  That took about 10 seconds.  We quickly turned the car around and headed for Barnes and Noble.  We headed straight to the travel section.  There was a pocket sized Russian dictionary.  That would do just fine for our surprise!

We paid for the book, headed to the car, and in her prettiest handwriting, Ashley began to write a message to the boys on sticky notes.  She wrote the words…

“She”
“Said”
“Yes!”

… on three separate sticky notes.  She randomly placed the notes throughout the dictionary.

When the boys read them, their responses were just as emotional as ours. There was a moment of disbelief, and almost instantly, came that moment when joy hits your heart and comes out your eyes!

That was one of those days… a day I won’t forget.

Did you say teenager?!?

Today, I woke up to a message from my daughter’s… sister! That’s an odd statement! What does this make her to me? Seems logical that she would also be my daughter – but she isn’t. She feels more like a little sister. I’m pretty sure she would like that, so for now, that is what I will call her… my “Russian Sister.”

She wrote… “Shannon! Я поздравляю Вас с рождением ребенка!)))))))”
Which means... “Shannon! I congratulate you on a birth of the child!)))))))”

What exactly were Chad and I doing 13 years ago? Friday, December 5, 1997. We would have been dating just over a year, and finishing up finals in our freshmen year of college. That would be the first time (and the last) I got a C in a class. Chad was an hour away at school. We were young and foolish!

Little did I know, that a beautiful baby girl was being born on the other side of the world. A cute little stinker from the pictures my “Russian Sister” has shared with me! I can’t wait for the day that I can share those precious pictures with you, my friends!

I can barely think the thought without the verse naturally flooding my mind…

“What no eye has seen,
what no ear has heard,
and what no human mind has conceived
- the things God has prepared for those who love him.”
1Corinthians 2:9

My little 19 year old self had no idea what plans God had in store for our lives, but I know one thing for sure. He knew.

Thirteen years ago, on the other side of the ocean, my brown-eyed daughter was being born to a mother that wouldn’t have enough time with her. And all these years later, I am honored and humbled that that precious baby girl would purposefully choose us to walk by her side, to guide her through her teenage years and adore her through adulthood. What a journey it will be!

I have no doubt, thirteen years from now, I will laugh at my innocence… cry over memories... and whisper a prayer of love and thanks to her birth mother. The mother I won’t meet on this side of Heaven, but love anyways. And always… I will trust in His plan and praise His Holy Name.

The Big Box...

Two nights in a row, Ashley has woken up in tears.  She slipped into our room whispering that we have to hurry and bring her big sister home.  Part of her heartache is in knowing that we won’t get to have her sister by our side during Christmas, but the other part is that the waiting seems like eternity to an 8-old-year (and her mama)… literally time seems to have stopped and dates are nothing but markers of what we’ve missed.  

When I was little, it was practically tradition for us to lie to our family is Chicago and say we wouldn’t be able to come visit for Christmas.  Then, on Christmas Eve we’d load into the minivan and drive through the night to surprise my beloved Grandparents.  One year, we simply rang their doorbell and their we stood.  Once, we just walked into their kitchen for breakfast like nothing was going on.  Another year, my little brother and sister got in a big box and my Auntie Jan and Uncle Mike had to push the box into their livingroom.  Then my Grandma and Grandpa opened it… just to have the little ones jump up and yell “Surprise!”  Family is priceless… but at this time of year we need a bigger word… family is everything. 

I don't know how to stop Ashley's tears, and I know that her darling big sister isn’t a toy to wrap up and hide under the tree… but how I wish my parents would just lie to me and say she can’t be here just yet… and then… on Christmas morning there could be a big box that they would have to push into the livingroom.

Our day is coming, when our family will be all together again.  Until then, I will trust in God’s loving plan for all of our lives. 

"Love and faithfulness meet together;
   righteousness and peace kiss each other.
Faithfulness springs forth from the earth,
   and righteousness looks down from heaven."
                                                  Psalm 85:10-11

Will You Be My Sister?

Just for fun, I thought I would share the letters that Lukas and Ashley’s wrote to their big sister.  I was told that she shed tears of joy as she shared them.

and...

Her big sister wrote me to say: Она показала мне письмо Эшли. Очень красивое. Эшли молодец.   Which means: She has shown me the letter of Eshli. Very beautiful. Eshli the good fellow.

What a laugh!

The Infamous Lunch Date...

A lifelong girlfriend of mine asked me to lunch and we had a wonderful time catching up.  Then as we were saying our goodbyes, she just happened to mention that she going to be hosting a Russian orphan for a week in July.  Still to this day, I don’t know why, but my heart jumped and I blurted out that I wanted to do it too! 

According to the dates she told me, I’d be in Arizona on a Misison Trip with my high schoolers for the first half of the orphan’s stay; however, I thought that at the very least I could lend a hand at some of the outings during the last half.  She promised to get my name to the guy in charge. 

I chatted with the hosting agency and was told the actual dates… and as it turns out I would be home from Arizona for a full three days before the orphans arrived.  In a matter of days, I collected the required letters of recommendation and other forms and we set up a time to meet.  Before I knew it, the week the kids were coming was here.  The host families gathered at the agency to find out who we would be hosting… and get the fear of God put in us! 

    … The kids wouldn’t speak English. 
    … They would probably throw up in our cars.
    … They would raid our fridges. 
    And…  The agency had planned more outings for that week then I do in a year!

But, something in me still shouted… “Um… sure, I’m still in!”

Then… they handed us our folders.  I opened mine. 

There she was… my daughter.

She had brown eyes and brown hair.  She had an adorable little smile that suggested she might steal my heart.  That should have been a warning! 

The meeting went on, but all I could think about was Thursday getting here fast so we could meet her!

And it did… before we knew it we were off to the airport to meet the nine little Russian orphans that would be enjoying Colorado for the next seven days. 

She stood out.  Mainly because she was the tallest, but it was her eyes that caught my attention.  The little girl in the picture stood eye to eye with me and rambled on a mile in a minute in Russian that sounded like made up words.  She was definitely in charge.

Suddenly, I was nervous.  I felt the need to impress her and be some sort of perfect model of what a mom was supposed to be... that lasted all the way home... 

She carried one small duffle bag and a black purse.  They introduced her to us, Ashley handed her a pink and black stuffed animal, and she motioned to leave.  Just like that, she was ready to walk away with complete strangers. Well, ok, then.  We were on our way.  

I would ask her questions and she would look at me like an alien.  My confidence was shaking.   

She looked pretty sure of herself, but that slowly faded as we drove the hour it took to get home.  It didn’t help that it poured rain and the clouds above our head were swirling slowly.  Before we knew it, we were home.  She looked unsure, but she followed Ashley up to her room and they pulled out nail polish within seconds.  Girls being girls, they were busy giggling and painting nails for the next hour.  Language barriers and 5 years of age difference didn’t matter.  They were girls and there was work to be done… on their toes.
 

 This was my first picture:
Ashley is staring up at her with admiration.  She is smiling at me with pride. 

When the girls were done with their impromptu salon, I asked her if she wanted to see the dogs.  She understood the word “dog” and excitedly shook her head “yes.”  I slowly let them in, and they were their usual excited selves.  They licked her face and had her rolling over and over, side to side, laughing hysterically.  By this point, I felt confident that she would be just fine throughout the week. 

And she was…