Africa Bound Andrews

2012-01-30T21:18:00.002-06:00

Living Out Love

Last week, I wrote this blog post.

On Saturday, I got the chance to live it out.

I got the honor to drive my friend Alecia to the airport on her way (flying alone)

to bring the two newest children to their family by way of the Ukraine.

You all helped advocate for their family on Friday and helped them surpass their

financial goal and raised $1400!!

So awesome.

They still need over $4000 to complete the adoptions and bring home a

new brother and sister here to Oklahoma.

If you would still like to donate, go to www.eliproject.org and mark your donation for

"the Horner family".

You may also go directly to their blog

http://newhornerfamily.blogspot.com/

to make a donation.

Also, please lift this sweet family up in prayer this week.

Alecia is travelling alone to the Ukraine this time and is facing huge obstacles.

Hubby Bryan is here in OK with their other four kids and running their family business.

Thank you sweet readers for all that you do.

Go live out your love for some one else today.

Today Only!

2012-01-27T12:04:00.000-06:00

I posted about the Horner family back in November during National Adoption Month. Their story is an incredible testament to the faithfulness of our God. Mama Alecia leaves in the morning to travel one more time back to the Ukraine to finally bring home their two new Ukrainian angels FOR GOOD!
They only have this one problem: FUNDS. They still need over $7000.00 to finalize the adoption and pay for airplane flights home.
Today only a donor has offered to double any and all funds that the Horner's can raise up to $500.00, that's a possibility of $1000 before Alecia gets on an airplane!
You can donate directly on the family's blog at http://newhornerfamily.blogspot.com/ or for a tax deductible donation, go to http://www.eliproject.org/ and donate, but make sure that you tag your payment for "the Horner Family".

Please help spread the word!

Hugs and Love to all this weekend!

Women Wednesday: Just Show Up

2012-01-25T16:39:00.003-06:00

I was asked a few weeks ago by my church if I would speak at our annual Women's Conference this year. I fell over laughing when I read the email to The Hero. It wasn't the speaking, or the fact that I had to speak for 30 minutes. It was the audience.

Three years ago, a leaflet fell out of our Sunday bulletin advertising WCC's women's conference. I laughed and tossed it inside my Bible. A few days later, The Hero saw it and asked if I was going.

"Uh, I don't like girls. And this is for an entire day. An entire day surrounded by girls? No thanks. You know that's my personal version of hell."

He smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

"K. But I thought you were praying about making some new girl friends."

It's moments like this when he renders me stupefied that I want to punch him.

"I highly doubt I'll make any new friends at a women's conference."

"Are you going to try on bike night at Hooter's?"

Insert punch to the arm.

I drug my feet for a few days and finally bought a ticket to go.

Surely, I would have something come up and would be unable to attend.

Something. Had. To. Come. Up.

It was Saturday and since we were still sans kids and The Hero was at work, I had no more excuses. I went. Late, but I went. Showing up is half the battle, right?

I sat in the back and while I didn't make any lasting friendships that day, showing up really was half the battle. It was also the beginning of laying a foundation for new relationships to form and new healing to appear.

So this week, when it seems like it's hard and you're not really wanting to engage: Just Show UP!

Oh The Places He's Gone!

2012-01-24T09:01:00.005-06:00

From the first picture we saw of The Dinosaur, almost two years ago,

we knew two things:

1.) We were in love.

and

2.) He was going to be a mover and a shaker.

We knew these things because the guest house told us in Ethiopia,

that he was adorable and he was the most active kid there.

They also told us they specifically prayed for The Dinosaur's family because

he was such a handful!

True DAT!

But standing in our driveway this morning,

I almost didn't recognize him.

His first day of pre-K!
Baby, you have come so far and I am so proud to be your mommy.

You are most definitely a handful, but you most certainly make a heart FULL.

That, and you have the best fro I've ever seen.

2012-01-22T20:35:00.001-06:00

We spent the weekend almost in hibernation. The kids and I left the house once yesterday to get groceries and break the monotony of being cooped up. The Hero came home from the station today and we managed to shower and change clothes long enough to make it to church today, but immediately after it was over, we retreated back to the comfy state of home and our pjs.

While I'm not sure that we rested or are any more relaxed than if we had spent the last two days chasing rabid cats; it was nice to at least be home for two consecutive days.

I've been reflecting a lot about how we spend our time and what our expectations are with those time commitments. I know that this year of living intentional will require some changes and the letting go of some things we once saw as "pressing", but so far, I'm liking the view.

What changes, if any, are your making as a family this year?

Is it Live or Love?

2012-01-20T10:33:00.001-06:00

In this world of modern technology, I feel equipped to handle astro physics from either my laptop, smartphone or tablet (even though I have no idea what astro physics is really all about) or perhaps conduct peace talks between global communities on all these devices simultaneously ( I can be quite the multi-tasker). But what I find myself doing on these devices the most is email and texting.
While being a sub-par speller makes me a fan of auto correct, I have noticed that if i am typing to a friend or a family member and I attempt to type the word "love", often times by a miss of a keystroke, auto correct will spell out "live" instead, so that my message now reads "I live you" instead of "I love you".
While I often times catch the mistake before I hit send, several of my closest peeps have often received an "I live you" from yours truly. This often elicits a response of "huh?"
But the more I reflect on this phenomenon, perhaps the two words should be synonymous of the other. Because when we truly love someone, we live for them. I love my children and my spouse, which causes me to live my life in a different way. I plan my day around their needs and their schedule. That love lives itself out in meals made, laundry folded, teeth brushed; a litany of acts that if not for love would just be a have-to-do list of chores.
Paul tells us that if we are blessed with amazing gifts and can do all things but have not love, all is for not. If love is not lived out, it really isn't love at all. It's all parts sum to the whole, a variation in the faith vs. works raucous, most pastors salivate to discuss.
Jesus was the most radical example of this 'to love is live for' theology. He tells us that "where our treasure is there our heart will be also" and His ultimate parable was love lived out...to death.

In this year of my "being intentional", I am beginning to grapple with this idea more and how that plays out in my day-to-day schedule, not just with my family but with those God puts in my path.
So if you receive a message from me and it simply says, "I live you" it may be a typo, or it , may be my reminder to myself and to you that I need to continue to live our love.

Yarn Braids!

2012-01-18T23:57:00.005-06:00

The Angel had been driving me nuts to try a new hairstyle for her.

Monday afternoon, I found a YouTube video on yarn braids.
I had my doubts on my abilities and since we knew from the video that the process would take at least 4-5 hours, we thought we'd give us a learning curve at shoot for being done in 6.

We made each other two promises:

1.) The Angel could complain every 20 minutes.

2.) Mommy got scream "Uncle" when enough was enough.

Monday night we went for a solid four hours.

Mommy screamed "Uncle" at 10:00p.m.

And with one-half of her hair braided, we headed for bed.

But last night, we finished and while Mommy knew practice would make better,

The Angel was THRILLED!

She's been swinging her long hair from side to side every time I catch her standing still.

And Mommy is praying that the estimation of the braids lasting 4-6 weeks

is completely accurate!

Baby Jesse

2012-01-15T19:22:00.005-06:00

I had two friends send me messages about Baby Jesse today.

I am convicted about posting her story, because I believe some one reading this is her family.

Baby Jesse was born at 30 weeks gestation.

She is in Taiwan and has been diagnosed with "possible Cerebral Palsy."

Her medical history is somewhat of a mystery,

but this baby needs a family.

Her family is out there.

Perhaps they are right here.

Reading this.

If you think you are Baby Jesse's family,

go here and read this post.

Even if you are not Baby Jesse's family,

repost and spread the word.
Let's find this angel's family.

Turning It On

2012-01-10T21:39:00.001-06:00

I run. Occasionally, I run a lot. By a lot, I mean every couple of days. I have no impressive times. I've never run a marathon. But the feel of my breath meeting the air because of minor physical exertion has always had a certain healing power for me.
Every runner has their stride. Mine looks like a hippo barreling down a ski slope, but it's all my 5'4" frame will allow. And after years of convincing myself that I'll never look like Jackie Joyner-Kersey, I've accepted my stride as my own.

We moved into the new house the end of September. With school starting, soccer practices, work and a trip to Ethiopia, my running shoes saw the floor under my bed more than the treadmill.
When I was talking to The Hero about being intentional this year, he mentioned my lonely running shoes and suggested maybe I give them a purpose again in send them to Africa so they would be useful to some one on the planet. I knew he was right.
But i put him off because a bizarre thing happened.
For the first time in my adult life, I was scared to run.
I came up with amazing excuses.
Writing.
Laundry.
Blogging.
Work.
Church.
More laundry.
Those pesky kids who demand food.

The treadmill was used to hang laundry, be an iPod player for our bedroom and overall dust collector. I'd stand near it and think of running again but then think better of it and find anything else to do. The more I thought about it, I knew my problem was that I was scared that I'd stopped running for so long that I would never find my stride again. That the work it would take might be too painful, too ugly and might never look the same.

Isn't that the way it is for a lot of things in life? Fear holds us back. Whether it is real or justified or just ridiculous, keeps us from so many things, from being better versions of ourselves because we are afraid of getting started.

Tonight as the kids and The Hero settled in after dinner and were watching basketball, the laundry was folded, blog post was written and the kitchen was clean, I was out of excuses. If I was going to live this year intentionally, it was going to have to find my stride.
I went to find my running shoes.

I flipped on my machine and waited for some thing to happen. And I realized the thing needing to happen was me. I put one foot in front of the other, and then I did it again and then again. Sweating and panting. Panting and struggling.
I moved at the pace of sludge. If I looked like a hippo on skis during my prime, tonight that hippo was ski-less, sliding on her butt down a mountain. But it wasn't for not. Some where in the middle of the sweat and the tread, I lost the fear.
I wasn't scared anymore.

I didn't find my stride tonight.
But I did turn the damn thing on. And tomorrow this hippo will put back on those skis and do it all over again.
And that's half the battle in whatever we're facing. Just turning it on. And then doing it again. Until it's no longer a fear, but a stride.

What are you putting off?

Out of Coverage

2012-01-08T10:16:00.005-06:00

This is the view from my front porch this morning.

Even though it's less than three weeks since Christmas,

a blah had settled over our house.

A holiday let down you might say.

Having my sister and bro-in-law in for the holidays was amazing,

but the kids adjusted hard to them leaving.

The Hero and I were unable to take much time off for the holidays,

and since we are trying out our new word: Intentional,

we packed it up and drove several hours outside the city.

To a cabin in the woods.

I've never been in this part of the world before.

And we are enjoying it immensely.

We are playing and praying about things to come,

how else we want to be intentional,

and the things that we want to accomplish this year.

So if you call us in the next few days,

your calls may not be returned.

We are outside of coverage.

Have you and yours made a plan to be intentional yet?

We'd love to hear it,

just as soon as we get back!

Women Wednesday: Word.

2012-01-04T20:17:00.002-06:00

I made a New Years' resolution last year.

I don't even remember what now.

It doesn't really matter.

Because like most New Years' resolutions,

I broke it two days later.

I know that because I wrote it in my journal.

I do that a lot.

Break things, I mean.

Promises, hearts (haha, right), social commitments, dates with my treadmill.

And even though I am a notoriously bad New Years' resolution maker,

there were definitely things that I wanted to change in 2012.

I thought about making a list.

But giving it's past performance, I thought against it.

I thought I'd discuss it with The Hero.

But when he said he really wanted to lose the six pounds he'd put on over the holidays

by the end of the month,

I bit my clenched fist to keep from punching him.

I reread some of my blog posts, journal entries and simply sought the status of my heart in 2011.

In all that reading, there was a theme that blared out in my words and heart: hectic.

So as I prayed and pondered over whether the only thing I would carry over from

2011 was my growing jean size,

I asked that God would reveal to me just a word that I could carry with me through this year.

There were several instances that confirmed that my word would be a complete about face from last year's pace.

2012 for me will be if nothing else:

INTENTIONAL.

Everything I do.

Every word I speak.

Every word I write/type.

I want Him in the middle of each step, each family dinner, every load of laundry.

I want to be conscious of every dollar we spend, saving more and giving more.

With each of the relationships I have, I pray for them to be more full.

To stop throwing things together and start knitting them in unity.

I long to seek a solid breath of life, instead of the raspy pant of busyness.

We will say "no thank you" to extracurricular activities and

cuddle on the couch for a little bit extra togetherness.

I want to wear my faith, instead of checking the box marked "saved".

I don't want to make new friends until I have dove head first into the ones before me.

(So if we know each other in 'real' life, watch out.)

While being intentional may seem slower, I pray it will not burn less passionately.

Hopefully, it will only burn longer.

I want to be a better spouse, bringing honor to The Hero.

A woman who respects his authority in our family,

and desires to make his home a place where he is at rest.

(I've read those verses about a nagging wife,

and The Hero's back won't take him living on our roof)

A home where we practice hospitality, cry when the need arises, dance when the music is good,

laugh when it's funny and pour grace on every square inch of what we've been given.

Because that is what He has done for us.

And because there is never enough grace.

I want to be a woman from whom The Angel can seek for a good example,

and from whom The Dinosaur will learn the difference between a lady and all the rest.

I want to eat less and sweat more.

I want to speak softer and write louder.

I pray our family creates memories instead forcing togetherness.

And I will expect more from you.

More discussions, more participation in the tough stuff,

more screaming from our laptops for kids who need us,

and exploring these Wednesdays for what they were originally intended:

for us to be INTENTIONAL together as women.

Perhaps being intentional will mean less of some things, and that's ok.

I am most excited about the depth of what is left.

So let's get started: INTENTIONALLY!

Interested?

2012-01-03T21:02:00.003-06:00

I think at the end of something, it always makes you a little reflective.

You start recounting the things you've done.

And didn't do.

The Hero and I have been together almost 9 years.

In that time, we've only shared 1 or 2 New Years' Eve kisses.

We've almost written off the holiday completely.

The New Years always comes whether he is at the fire station or not.

And I'd rather it come with me having a full 8 hours sleep.

It's a curse of being married to anyone in the responder field.

There are things that they miss.

But regardless, each year we try to sit down and just hash out

the previous year.

We were discussing our 2011 and

Recycle Love came up.

Remember?

About a year ago?

The Hero came up with a design and we came up with a campaign?

A campaign to help adoptive families raise money for their adoptions?

Ringing any bells yet?

Does this help?

We were curious about whether or not if there would be interest in doing

it again.

Interested?

Leave us a comment.

I think it would be cool to do the same logo and theme but change it up for Valentine's Day.

(and add some girlie colors!)

But we need a final decision by Friday.

Like three days time.

So let us know.

Are you interested?

And would you want to see long sleeve?

a light weight hoodie?

or short sleeved shirts like last time?

Can you doubt?

2012-01-02T21:47:00.001-06:00

We had one more day off from school and work today. One more day to just be together and enjoy one another. The kids headed out early with The Hero's mom to The National Cowboy museum and when they were done, we decided to visit the OKC zoo since it was free admission day.

The kids had a blast but the highlight came when we were leaving and the zoo was getting ready to close. The passed the lion exhibit when we heard it roaring. We went up to the glass and this male lion was giving a lung shaking growl to another lion in his enclosure. We all just stood there spellbound by this amazing creature doing what God created him to do. Amazing!
As we stood there staring at this exquisite example of Gods handiwork, I couldn't help but wonder how there are those who believe we just evolved. Even a tigers facial stripes are like a fingerprint and are unique to that animal, so how much more valuable are we!
Loved spending the day being reminded that I am fearfully and wonderfully made and so are YOU!

Ringing It In...Sort Of!

2012-01-01T19:08:00.003-06:00

The Hero was at the fire station last night.

The kids were determined to make to midnight,

or at least the ball dropping in New York City at 11:00p.m. our time.

But they made it Mommy's bed,

just after 10:00.

And although I had really good intentions of make some ridiculous resolutions,

Mommy was asleep not less than ten minutes after taking this photo.

That's how we ring it at The Andrews' home.

In bed,

together,

sleeping soundly knowing that He's set the path for 2012,

just like He did for 2011.

Wishing all of you and yours hope, joy and happiness this year.

Women Wednesday: The Great Debate

2011-12-14T15:25:00.002-06:00

The Hero and I had a really hard talk two years ago when we brought home The Angel and The Dinosaur. I'm sure lots of other couples have had the same one.

"To stay at home with the kids or go back to work?"

There is a part of my femininity that may be missing, because this wasn't a difficult question for me to answer. I practically ran back to the office. I had been practicing law almost five years when the kids came home, and I was good at it. Law school wasn't cheap and I amassed more student loan debt than The Hero's mortgage on his first house. There was no way we could afford for me to stay home. Spending three weeks away from the office also revealed another horrible character flaw: I am a work-aholic. I love it.

This may be why making and keeping new girlfriends has always proved challenging for me. It's hard for me to admit that I like being at the office. That my brain lights up and ignites best when legal theories and paperwork abound. And also I think many women I meet would only judge this career choice as a character flaw. They might believe that because I work outside the home, that I am not a good mom. And let's face it, I don't need any help beating myself up about my faults.

I also have much guilt over this new personality development. I often lament my failures as a mother, sometimes on an hourly basis. Maybe we all do. Most days as I pull away from daycare, I groan that I couldn't give my kids a better mother. One who hadn't spent most of her twenties vying for grades and racking up debt. But in my spirit I know that staying at home with The Dinosaur would leave us both unfulfilled and unchallenged. He needs WAY more social interaction that one mama can give him. The boy is busy and the more kids around, the more he loves it.

And you know what?

That's ok.

It actually feels good to say that out loud (or in print).

I may never stay at home.

But that doesn't mean I don't adore my mama friends who stay at home. Most of the time I want to constantly immulate them.

And that doesn't mean they don't love me, even trekking it to the office every day. Even when I don't return their phone calls for a few days.

Some times ladies, I think the debate about whether or not we are good enough, or doing a good enough job in motherhood and life in general, doesn't happen between us women,

It happens within ourselves.

Here's to learning to embrace the creatures God created us to be, with the love that He shows us, no matter where He calls us to spend most of our days.

2011-12-13T14:56:00.002-06:00

I was going through old pictures a few days ago,

getting ready to put together a collage for The Angel and The Dinosaur.

It's their second Christmas with us.

WHOA!

I never believed time gets spent this fast.

As we were looking at birthdays and holidays

and pics of funny faces,

this one appeared,

out of place in my digital file of pictures.
It is from a Christmas past.

Three to be exact.

This face wasn't yet my daughter.

She was still an orphan.

And she was watching a friend leave for her new home.

With her new family.

The Angel looked at the picture.

She smiled and just said

"I remember that day."

"That was the day my last friend left Africa."

Tonight as I tuck my daughter into bed,

there are millions just like her all over the world.

Maybe some even in our neighborhood,

who are standing at the gate,

watching,

waiting,

praying

for their turn.

Their chance to have a home.

What are we going to do about it?

Christmas Carols

2011-12-09T08:47:00.003-06:00

I love Christmas music.

It starts playing Thanksgiving Day and I am the annoying person who leaves it on until sometime

after the New Year.

The kids and I sing them every morning on the way to school.

But this year,

I can't sing this one without choking up.

Can you?

Our precious Thai bab(ies) we are missing you this Christmas.

But The Maker of stars is guiding our paths together.

And we are headed straight to you.

So that He will receive all the glory.

Last Christmas

2011-12-06T19:18:00.004-06:00

For the last couple of years, I've kept a list of awesome gift ideas that give back.

I tried really hard to coordinate another list this year.

But I can't.

It's not really a time constraint, but more of like a heart constraint.

Between The Hero and I, I think we've bought five gifts this year.

We've bought the kids a couple of things, but they don't really care about toys.

And clothes are really boring.

As I think about our kid(dos) across the globe in Thailand,

I doubt he/she/they are thinking about toys, or snow (i know they aren't thinking that)

or how many different candies they will eat on Christmas.

I'm sure that my child(ren) are thinking about whether this year will be the year

they will get a family, a safe place to call their own.

And it devastates me that for Christmas 2011, they won't.

Our home study isn't completed.

Our dossier isn't yet submitted.

Our referral hasn't been given.

And so we wait.

For another Christmas.

Another shopping season that no one will remember next year,

let alone next month.

I saw a woman post today on facebook about this girl.
Her name is Shannon.

Shannon is 13.

She'll be 14 in two months.

She is a waiting child from China.

And Shannon has a Christmas wish:

A family.

You see, this is Shannon's last chance.

Her last Christmas wish for her heart's desire.

Someone to call her their own.

In China, once she turns 14, she will never have the opportunity to be adopted.
Her two best friends were adopted not long ago and living in America.

Shannon begs for them to find her a home.

And she only has two more months.

So while we are all making our lists and checking the Internet for great deals,

Shannon is on her knees, begging that her Mommy and Daddy come soon.

Tonight, I'm on my knees for Shannon too.

My shopping list would be to find her a family.

It's her last Christmas.

Please repost this and share her story.

If you know anyone who is home study ready and even better if their LOA is logged into China,

please direct them to Kelly at chosenchild@gmail.com

My friend Lindsay posted an amazing post with links to

gifts that give back and you can check that out here.

Christmas is Two Days Early This Year

2011-12-06T10:21:00.000-06:00

On November 29th, 2009, my sister and her husband relocated to Phoenix

for a new adventure in their life.

On November 30th, 2009,

The Hero and I began a new adventure of our own:

Parenthood.

Laura had barely pulled in her new driveway when I called

to tell her about our referral.

It was the oddest moment of elation and devastation of my life.

While I couldn't wait to get the kids, Laura and I both wondered

how my kids would ever bond with someone who lived a 1000 miles away.

The next time I saw her, I was getting off the airplane in OKC

with two kids.

Jetlag, exhaustion, and acclimating to our life at home

would have been unbearable if she and Brian hadn't been there our first week.

They did the laundry, the grocery shopping, the rocking for nap-time,

while I tried to pull my head out of the whirlwind of the last two weeks.

Coming face to face with motherhood and abject poverty for the first time

took a toll on my heart and my brain.

At the end of that first week, The Angel knew she had a mother.

And an aunt.

Whom she adored.

Aunt LaLa was all she wanted for her first birthday home.

Our first Christmas was amazing.
There were lots of smiles.

LOTS of laughs.
(I think he looks like the seamstress from The Incredibles :)

Too many gifts that neither of the kids remember a year later.
And while every one was amazing and made their first Christmas perfect,
it was definitely noted that there were two presents missing.
We skyped the entire Christmas morning, letting LaLa and Papa Chu
watch each gift being opened,
each toy being played with and
watching The Dinosaur terrorize us all with his dump truck.
At the end of the day, Laura sent me a message,
telling me that 2010 would be last Christmas my kids were small
that she wouldn't be sitting in my living room.
I told her I was going to hold her to that,
but wouldn't tell the kids.
So as we made our lists this year for what they wanted to unwrap,
The Angel again requested her favorite thing:
LaLa.
and maybe, just maybe if he was good,
she'd let Papa Chu come along.

So for Christmas 2011,
THEY ARE COMING HOME!!!!
I waited for as long as I could to tell the kids.
About two minutes after I knew.

So while they won't care about presents.
And some fat man squeezing in our fireplace doesn' t mean anything.
Santa and his entire magical entourage could carry
Laura and Brian's bags from the airport,
and The Angel and The Dinosaur wouldn't notice.
Because:
There will be popcorn,
dancing,
cheering,
celebrating,
and probably costumes

there will be giggles,
laughter,
playing ball in the house
and breaking all of Mommy's rules.

There will be late nights,
pillow fights,
sleeping in late
and cereal for dinner.

The Angel is beside herself.
She is so excited that she has turned her
paper-chain, Advent calendar from school into a
"Countdown to Aunt Laura coming".
But I haven't told her they will be here on the 23rd.
I want to see the look on her face:

Christmas comes two days early this year.

You Think She Wants A Sibling?

2011-12-05T12:05:00.000-06:00

Last Wednesday was our home study.

We had been talking about it with The Angel and The Dinosaur for weeks.

Because those of you who have adopted before know that

once a social worker steps foot in your house,

your children know one thing:

You cannot kill them.

We seriously could entertain the entire House and Senate at our dinner table

and The Angel and The Dinosaur would behave normally.

But the level of heathen behavior at the Andrews' household is

paramount when we have a post-placement visit.

We encouraged The Angel and The Dinosaur to mind their manners,

don't scream at one another and generally attempt to act as if we

are trying to teach them to be upright, outstanding citizens.

(Our last two post placement visits,

The Hero and I were convinced The Dinosaur might sprout horns and

The Angel had a megaphone inserted into her lungs.)

Sure enough, the door bell rings on Wednesday and the kids fling the door open.

Completely forgetting "Stranger Danger."

But things started to go badly when The Dinosaur brought down his piggy bank.

Remember, it wasn't two months ago he swallowed copper?

He dumped his entire savings on the floor, and began swimming through them.

And immediately became bored.

As The Dinosaur did cartwheels off our furniture,

The Angel quietly sat on the floor between our social worker

and The Hero and I.

And only interrupted to ask me to take a picture of her new creation.

She's good.

Real good.

And she's ready for a sibling.

Hmmm....

2011-12-04T20:31:00.003-06:00

It poured here on Saturday.

Biblical rains started immediately as we entered Target.

It didn't stop by the time we checked out, even though we drug ourselves through

the entire store to try and beat the drench.

The Hero offered to get the car while the kids and I waited.

When we all were secured after The Hero's valiant gesture,

true to form, The Dinosaur had a question

"Why Daddy get the car?"

Mommy: "Because daddy is a gentleman. And that is what gentlemen do."

Dinosaur: "Why is Daddy a gentleman?"

Mommy: "Because Grandma raised him right."

Silence.

A minute later.

Dinosaur: "Mommy, can Grandma make me a gentleman too?"

The Hero and I wondered if The Dinosaur was already doubting our parenting skills and just wanted to skip right over to Grandma's house.

Twas The Night Before Homestudy

2011-11-29T21:27:00.003-06:00

Some comic relief for you tonight:

Twas the night before home study

and all through the house.

Every creature is whirring, even a mouse.

The laundry was thrown about without care

even knowing a social worker soon would be there.

The children were spazzed bouncing on their beds

while visions of a new sibling danced in their heads

With mama in her headband and dad in his cap

had just geared up for a long nights'

When out in the kitchen, it arose such a clatter

Daddy sprang from the couch to see what was the matter

Away to the compactor, he flew like a flash

tore open the door and threw out the trash

The two day old mess at the bottom of the can

gave a putrid smell to the entire Andrews clan

When what to our watering eyes should appear

but a collection of garbage that should incite fear.

With a gag and a hurl that came fast and so quick

We knew in a moment it might make us sick.

More rapid than eagles his commands they came

and he whistled and shouted and called them by name

"Come Angel Come Dino bring cleaner and spray"

"bring comet bring clorox, let's get the smell out the way"

To the top of the can to the bottom of the bag

now dash away dash away, we scrubbed with a rag

So out of the house top the kiddos they flew

with the bag full of trash and the nasty smell too.

I heard them explain as they went out the front door

"No smelly trash in the house no more."

Date Set.

2011-11-28T21:16:00.002-06:00

We got a call a few days before Thanksgiving from our home study agency.

We have a home study date.

November 30th.

Two days from now.

WOOT!

One more step down

one step closer to Thailand.

We are ready!

I also love that it is the exact same day as our referral-aversary

for The Angel and The Dinosaur.

National Adoption Month: Meet Ilyssa

2011-11-15T09:04:00.000-06:00

Such a cutie pie!

Meet Ilyssa.

An adorable Ukranian princess who has HIV.

A manageable, controllable condition,

which if maintained through medication and love,

will mean that she grows up just like everyone else.

Ilyssa is being advocated for by Reeces Rainbow and

you can find her profile here.

Who wouldn't be blessed to see those pigtails bounding around their house every day.

National Adoption Month: More Siblings

2011-11-09T20:47:00.006-06:00

It seems my heart is stuck on siblings for this post again.

I couldn't help it though.
This is Alex and Vitally.

Look at how precious these brothers are:

These little Ukrainian angels are being advocated for by Eli Project and

you can check out their profile here.
One of these babies is HIV+.

It doesn't matter which one.

Because HIV is a controllable, manageable condition.

And these boys are too precious to spend their lives

worrying about their condition.

They need to be worried about their next soccer game

or monster truck race.

National Adoption Month: Sibling Set

2011-11-09T20:26:00.002-06:00

It's not a secret that The Hero and I have a soft spot for siblings.

I can't imagine having The Dinosaur without having The Angel.

I know my own life would not be the same without my siblings.

Sometimes in adoption, staying together is not an option.

But imagine your chances if there were 7 of you!

Even staring at their picture makes me overwhelmed.

Imagine the laundry.

Imagine the meal planning.

Imagine the LOVE!

The laughter!

The smiles at knowing they were all staying together.

This amazing group is currently in foster care awaiting their forever family.

They want to be adopted together.

Do you blame them?

I wouldn't give up my sister either.

National Adoption Month: Meet Destini

2011-11-08T08:00:00.002-06:00

This cupcake had me had first sight.

Meet Destini.

This 10 year old princess is currently in U.S. foster care in Washington state.

Just waiting for her new family to shower her like the diva she is.

Total preciousness!

She is being advocated for by WACAP, which is the adoption agency

we have signed for in order to take us to our new family member in Thailand.

Remember to pray for the kids you've seen here

and advocate for them by using your facebook, twitter and blogs.

National Adoption Month: Meet Nicholas

2011-11-07T20:12:00.003-06:00

Meet Nicholas.

This precious Ukrainian boy is in perfect medical condition,

except for one thing.

He is an orphanage because his mother broke his heart.

Nicholas suffers from a burned scalp,

which from his profile states was at his mother's own hands.

She sat his hair on fire when Nicholas was three.

He has received no restorative therapy or surgery to deal with the scar tissue

but a hair transplant may be an option.

Nicholas is being advocated for by Eli Project.

You can go here and read this sweet boy's profile

pray for him.

donate to his adoption fund.

advocate for him.

ask if Nicholas is your son, grandson, nephew.

Orphan Sunday

2011-11-06T21:43:00.004-06:00

Today was Orphan Sunday.
A day set aside for remembrance, prayer and advocacy for children who have no family.
We hadn't talked about Orphan Sunday at home.
We didn't even mention it today.
Usually, questions about adoption, birth parents and/or Africa are elicited by The Angel.
But for the first time ever in the car today, a question came from the Dinosaur.
We had just been answering his questions about the blue car next to us, when we were met with:
"Mommy?"
"Yes, son."
"Our first dad died before in Africa?"
The Hero and I just stared at each other for a moment.
I didn't know what to say for a minute.
In her perfect, adorable way, The Angel beat me to it.
"Yep. Our Ethiopian daddy died after our Ethiopian Mommy did. That's why we live here."
The Hero and I made a brief, forgettable statement after that and The Dinosaur
went back to jabbering about the cars on the road.
Even in his precious three year old mind, my son knows that we are a hybrid family.
While I am thankful and selfishly want to believe that God planned our family since the beginning of time, that is only my selfishness.
Adoption is only God's perfect plan when it regards us being adopted into His family.
Adoption here on earth is a very messy, imperfect plan, not even close to plan B.
I believe that God placed our children with The Hero and I by weaving our lives together.
And for that huge gift, we are forever grateful.
But the original design was for The Angel and The Dinosaur to live with their birth parents.
Being orphaned in a fallen world changed that original design.
Many people have questioned why we are adopting again.
They ask things like:
"Are you worried how it will affect The Angel and The Dinosaur?"
"Why more kids, you guys were so lucky to get to great kids the first time."
"Are you sure that you guys are ready for that?

These questions really just piss me off, and I don't believe they deserve an answer.
So now that you've been warned, please don't ask.
Our answer is simply this:
The Hero and I believe that God sets the lonely in families,
not in orphanages,
or group homes,
or foster care.
While adoption is not a perfect plan, an orphanage or being in foster care isn't acceptable.
And until He returns in His glory,
and there are no more kids who need homes,
The Hero and I never want to look back and wonder on an Orphan Sunday,
"I wonder what our family would look like if (insert a kid's name) hadn't been with us?"

And really, who wouldn't want these kiddos sitting at their table:

Orphan Sunday is not a day to celebrate,
it is a day to we should attempt to abolish.
I believe I have a calling in that challenge,
and I believe so do you.
I don't believe it is only through adoption.
Sponsorship, financial giving, advocacy and adoption are all a part.
Excited to hear how you all are striving to end the orphan crisis.

National Adoption Month: Sibling Adoption

2011-11-05T16:36:00.004-05:00

A lot of people questioned The Hero and I when we decided to adopt a sibling set. As first time parents, there were always questions about how we'd go from no kids to two and what our adjustment period would be like. Believe me, The Hero and I did question it a lot, but over and over again we felt as though if the Lord was calling us to it, He wouldn't leave us in the middle. Since both The Hero and I had siblings, we knew we would eventually adopt again; why not bring home a sibling set?
It definitely wasn't always peaches and cream. Having two new personalities in the house was challenging at first, but seeing the bond between The Dinosaur and The Angel is priceless.
Every country has different requirements and standards for adoption. At the time, Ethiopia had a rule that siblings were not allowed to be separated; which meant the couples open to sibling sets were dramatically reduced, therefore lessening their probability for adoption.
After coming home with The Angel and The Dinosaur, The Hero and I promised that we would continue to advocate for waiting children and sibling groups.
Meet Chrystyna and Karen.
Chyrstyna and Karen are siblings living in the Ukraine. Karen is a 15 year old who is a typical teenager who is waiting for her new family. Chrystyna's medical charts state that she has some developmental delays but provides no specifics as to her needs. These adorable princesses are ready for adoption immediately, as Karen will soon age out of the Ukrainian system and will be on her own.

The girls are being advocated for by Reece's Rainbow . If you go to Reece's website, you can donate to the girls' adoption funds and read more about their profiles. Also, consider signing up for Reece's Warrior program, where you can use your blog and social media to raise money for a child who needs a family this Christmas.

National Adoption Awareness Month: Meet Sergey

2011-11-04T21:02:00.002-05:00

Happy National Adoption Month! I'm going to try and post each day about a family whose adopting or kids who are awaiting being adopted.

Meet Sergey. Look at those eyes!

He is a Ukrainian teenager who believed that there was a family coming to adopt him, but at the last minute, the family had a change of plans. Sergey is being advocated for by The Eli Project and currently has a $1000 grant towards his adoption. You can go here and read his profile.

National Adoption Awareness Month: Meet The Horners

2011-11-03T21:06:00.003-05:00

I'd like to tell you that I am a faith-filled person.

While I believe I have my moments where I step out of the boat,

at the first sight of water, I begin screaming and heading for dry land.

It is very hard for me to simply close my eyes, hold out my hand,

and walk towards Jesus.

I need constant reminders that this life is not my own

and I will not always be in control.
I learn a lot of these lessons from my friends.

Lately, I've been taking daily notes by watching my friend Alecia.

Let me introduce you to the Horners.

This precious family lives in our town.

They own one of our favorite family hangouts, The Cupcake Lounge.

Last year they traveled to the Ukraine to bring home

what they thought would be two kids,

a boy and a girl.

The Lord changed their plans and they arrived home with their teenage son, Adrian.

But the desire for a sister never left their hearts.

They pursued for months a girl, Anatasia.

They prepared the documents, began raising funds, advocated for their daughter and

planned to make a place in their home for their newest addition.

The Lord changed their plans.

They were heartbroken to know Anastasia had been adopted by another family,

only weeks before they were to leave for Ukraine to bring her home.

Alecia and her husband Brian decided to travel any way, and seek the daughter

they knew was waiting for them.

Meet Tanya.

This adorable princess was exactly what The Horners knew God was asking of their family.

And then,

He changed their plans.

Tanya has a brother.

A younger brother.

An unexpected addition.

One they had not anticipated, expected or believed would be asked of them.

But they again said "where You lead Father, we will follow."

The Horners flew home for a few weeks to finalize their paperwork in the Ukraine

and spend time with their kiddos here

before returning to the Ukraine to bring home Tanya and Misha.
They have a lot of funds still to raise.

$11,160.00 to be exact.

Brian and Alecia are so convinced that God will provide their adoption needs,

that they have booked one-way tickets to the Ukraine.

They don't have the funds to book return flights home.

They leave on Monday.

Four days from now.

That's CRAZY faith folks.

Let's celebrate National Adoption Month today and donate what you can

to two people who are showing us all that God puts the lonely in families.

You can go here to donate directly by going here or if you need a tax deductible donation,

go to www.eliproject.org and add "Horner family" to the memo.

If you live in OKC area, go The Cupcake Lounge 304 Telephone Rd in Moore,

buy some amazing cupcakes and/or cakes and

don't forget to leave a BIG tip.

Even if you can't donate funds, will you please post this to your social media?

Let's spread the message and raise some money and bring home some angels.

I love you guys and gals!

Another Year

2011-11-01T15:25:00.005-05:00

First day of November.

Time to start carving up the jack-o-lanterns

to make way for pumpkin pie.

Time to start listing the things we're thankful for and

making trips to the grocery store to gorge our families again.

Time to be reminiscent of memories passed and

gathering those still with us together to make more memories.

As I sit here looking over my "I'm so grateful list",

at the top, of course, is my children.

This month is adoption awareness month.

Did you know?

I almost forgot.

Last year, our church did a big presentation on Orphan Sunday.

We had The Waiting Heart Gallery of Oklahoma bring photos

of adoption ready children, currently in foster care.

Over 90% of those children listed last year were adopted.

Now if you go to their website, you'll see something like this:

Thank you Jesus! Orphaned no more!

Family found for this sweetie.So much is changed by the power of that little red heart attached to those pictures.

It means "you are loved" "you were chosen" "you belong".

But just about the time my heart was soaring about how many kids had found homes last year,

7 faces kept staring back at me.

For 7 of those precious faces,there is no red heart attached to their picture.
For them, it is another Thanksgiving of waiting, another bedtime in a strange bed,

another morning of uncertainty,

another holiday longing for a family all their own.

So instead of spending this month of things I'm thankful for,

I'm going to be blogging about a new face, a soul,

a heart who is longing to add to their "Thanks list" only one word:

family.

Meet Elmer.

His profile stuck out to me a year ago.

Just look at those eyes!

He specifically picked out his Sunday best for his photo.

Dressed to impress a family; his family.

You can go here to read Elmer's profile and learn more about this adorable boy.

You can also head over to www.adoptuskids.com and search thousands of kids

currently in U.S. foster care who are ready for adoption.

So this November, let's spread the word about as many children as possible.

I want to highlight a specific child or program each day this month,

so help me spread the word.

Let's not let any more precious kiddos like Elmer spend another holiday alone.

This Sunday is specifically Orphan Sunday.

What is your church, family, organization doing?
I'd love to hear it.

The Staircase

2011-10-30T21:40:00.000-05:00

The Hero and I came home from Ethiopia early on a Saturday morning. The following Friday we closed on a new home. It seems as though it has taken forever to get moved in and unpacked (which we are still not finished doing). While Daddy and I seem to be consumed with unpacking toys, clothes, and our 7 years together of mess, the kids are consumed with one thing:

the staircase in the new house.

It has been a slide, a launching pad for throwing a variety of items, and a stage.

Yesterday, The Angel and I were playing paper dolls, when The Dinosaur came running through the living room like this:
Yup. You guessed it. That is a plastic Halloween bucket on his head. He headed to the top of the stairs, holding a plastic baseball bat, sliding down the stairs on his belly, squealing with delight.

After the third time, The Angel's interest was sparked, and I was left holding the paper dolls and searching for my camera.

For almost an hour, they giggled and slid and added "flair" to their sliding uniforms.

I cannot wait to see what the staircase becomes next.

So How is She Doing?

2011-10-29T21:46:00.003-05:00

Ya'll will probably remember that we had to talk about the dreaded "R" word with The Angel last year after 1st grade. After much discussion and tears and debates and teachers' meetings, The Hero and The Angel cried about it. Mama blogged about it and we all prayed about it. In the end we all agreed that it was the right move to retain The Angel in first grade.

So how's she doing?

This mama is glad you asked.

She has 1st grade by the horns and is wrestling it to the ground!

It's like having a different child in the house.

Where before there were frowns and grumps about school, she bounds for the door every morning, is restless waiting for school even on Saturday.

Her scores are off the charts.

Vocabulary is above average.

Reading is through the roof.

Homework that use to take us hours to complete each night, is done now a matter of minutes.

She loves reading so much that she and I even started reading LONG chapter books together at night when The Dinosaur goes to sleep.

I am very new to this parenting thing.

Don't even have 2 years behind me yet, but I can tell you that retention has worked for us.

I am so proud of our baby girl I could burst.

The Angel,

For all that you have accomplished and all that remains to be conquered,

you are one of my heroes in life.

There is no goal you cannot reach and I am

humbled to be your mother.

Re-entry

2011-10-26T22:26:00.005-05:00

The Hero and I have been home from Ethiopia for a month now.

There are days it feels like ten years.

Others, I can still feel the African dirt inside my sandals.

Re-entry is always challenging.

Processing the experiences while being bombarded with the disparity of here vs. there.

Ethiopia is always beautifully tragic for me, but in some ways it is easy.

I feel at home. Helping people is not a "good deed for the day."

For me, coming home is hardest.

I struggle with how to mesh the woman I am on one continent,

with the one I'm expected to be on another.

I've spent my fair share of days sobbing in the shower,

crying out for God to make beauty from the ashes in my heart.

I've struggled with patience with family members,

co-workers and friends.

But I've struggled the most with The Angel and The Dinosaur.

Being around so many children who have nothing,

it is easy to lose my patience with two who have everything.

Toast with just enough jam,

strawberry oatmeal instead of peach,

and huffs if their favorite dessert doesn't follow dinner.

But I've also noticed that it has given The Hero and I opportunity

to have some discussions with our kids that we didn't have before this trip.

While I want my children to know that they are the center of my universe,

I need them to understand that they are not the center of the universe.

There are days I yearn for the simplicity of Ethiopia, but I am learning

that sometimes the hardest part is to continue to be a light where we are:

in the car pool line,

at the grocery store,

at The Angel's soccer games with ridiculous, screaming parents.

Some days are harder than others.

Some days I feel like I'm not a light, but a stubbed out candle without a wick.

But He is faithful.

Always.

When I think I'm at my breaking point, He fills me up.

And there are days I'm sure I exhaust Him with my requests.

Again, Father. Again.

Yep. There are days I long for Ethiopia.

But I am learning that He has a plan for me here and I am

reminded often that His plan involves an Angel and a Dinosaur

and how the intertwining of our lives with continuously glorify Him.

It's not about our geography, it's the location of our hearts.

2011-10-25T21:51:00.003-05:00

Being a working mom is stinky most days.

I feel like I run from task to task.

Dinner.

Soccer practice.

Homework.

Laundry.

Repeat.

But more and more often, I'm reminding myself that the laundry will always be there.

The house will never be clean enough.

They'll never remember what I made for dinner in a week.

And that this face won't be little for much longer:

Praying you stop and take in a small moment of your own today.

Ethiopia Trip Recap Day 8: Our Ethiopian Network of Love

2011-10-24T09:44:00.005-05:00

Our last morning came too quickly. I had told K all night the night before to be sad tomorrow. "Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Let's be sad tomorrow."

Tomorrow was upon us. When he opened the door to the guest house, he immediately burst into tears. I was able to swallow mine until he hit my chest. I'm sure The Hero and Yemamu loaded the car. I know that we drove to the airport with the entirety of our team, but I don't recall any of it. My final moments in Ethiopia were full of tears, spilling on the face of the eleven year old, laying his head in my lap, rotating between telling me that he was "no happy" and singing "I have decided to follow Jesus."

We were a mess.

He asked me if I would ever come back.
I promised I would.

I asked if he would be a good boy.

He promised he would.

There we were. Standing outside the gate, snapping final snotty, wet pictures and hugging good-bye. The Hero grabbed our bags and squeezed my hand and drug me through security. I really thought if I dug my heels into the sidewalk, I would sprout there and stay forever. It didn't work.
I cried all the way through security, checking in the gate and onto the plane. I stopped long enough on the way to Dubai to swallow some dinner, but as soon as The Hero asked if I was okay, the tears fired up again. They stopped when we hit Atlanta.

I'm still not sure after three years, why God put K in our lives. We know adoption is not available now and although I cannot imagine our lives without K in it, I often wonder if seeing him once every 18 months is breaking his heart and ours. But isn't life better with even one more person one your team? Someone else you love and who loves you?

The Hero says it best. Of course he does. He says that K has a network of love of those he loves and who love him and who wouldn't want that in their life?

So here's to our Ethiopia network of love and my favorite pics from our trip:

May you all be as blessed by some one's presence and may they in turn be blessed by yours.

Ethiopia Trip Recap Day 7: Every Good Gift

2011-10-21T09:18:00.003-05:00

Last full day in Ethiopia. The Hero and I wanted to pack it as full as possible. We got our wish. We drove early to the center to start preparing the afternoon meal. The thought of our first official meal being served this day was almost more than my heart could bear. What an amazing gift that God would allow The Hero and I to be here: for such a time as this.
As we arrived at the center, we looked out of Korah to the dump and saw a line of people. The Hero asked Sisay what they were all doing. He explained that the truck from the Sheraton hotel arrived and the people were waiting to go through it because the Sheraton always throws away the best trash.
My heart melted, but knowing that our kids in our program would not have to ever stand in line for garbage just spurred me to continue giving thanks.
If you look really closely, you can see the line of people and the white trash truck.

Our cooks prepared the meal and our team began sorting clothes we had brought, serving up plates of food and playing games with our kids.

Seeing all that food was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.

We gave thanks and the kids sang praise songs while our team served the food. Glorious is one of the only words I can think of to describe those moments. Watching those babies eat was truly a prelude to heaven. Wow how our Father is Glorious!

Each kiddo received a full plate and a whole loaf of bread.

When each belly was full, our team decided that we needed to get the boys from the dump some clothes and some decent shoes to wear. Our team had been specifically praying on how to use the funds that were sent with us and we were burdened to care for the boys who live at the trash dump. So we loaded close to 20 people in a bus and went on a shopping trip.

The sales clerks at the shoe store were so appalled by the boys' appearances, they required the boys to put plastic bags on their feet instead of socks to try on shoes.

I've been shopping a lot but this blew all the others away. It was the first time ANY of our boys were bought anything new. You would have thought we had given them a million dollars.

I am convinced that there are necessities in life and their are pure gifts. Instead of feeling guilty about what we have, I think we are to gift to others. We had asked Yemamu and Sisay if any of the boys had ever been out to eat. They both laughed and said "never". Our team wanted very much to treat these boys to a restaurant and share a meal with them. Our team had treated ourselves the day before by a good meal and we wanted to pass it on.

So after HOURS of shopping (fitting 12 teenage boys is no easy task), we had socks, underwear, pants, shoes and shirts for each one of them, we headed to a restaurant. We ate outside so that our boys felt a little bit more comfortable. Since all Ethiopian food is eaten with your hands, Sisay explained and demonstrated to each of them the revolution of hand sanitizer.
The term "breaking bread together" had never had a more beautiful meaning for me.

I'd have these boys over for dinner every night of the week. Bilielu has my scarf because he earlier had argued with The Hero that The Hero may well be my husband, but B was my new boyfriend. :)

The cost of our shopping trip:

Twelve pair of leather shoes: $191.04

Socks and underwear: $11.47

12 pair of Pants: $140.00

Dinner for 18 people: $23.50

Twelve months rent for a house in Korah for the boys to leave the dump: $176.00

Total: $542.01

We drank Coke, stuffed our faces, danced and laughed until our bellies and our faces hurt. To say that our last day in Ethiopia was perfect would be too plain, too boring to describe it. It truly was a foreshadowing of what God means when He said He went to prepare a place for us. I've never longed for Heaven like I did that night when I crawled into bed.

While today was amazing, tomorrow would be heartbreaking. Every night, K had asked "I see you tomorrow" and every night I was able to say yes. Tomorrow my answer would be different and all the laughter from tonight would never be able to quench out the tears of tomorrow. As he crawled into the van to be driven home, I gave it my all, slathered him with Momma kisses and as he wrinkled his nose, he tried to tell me he was sad.

I kissed his cheek one last time and whispered "Tomorrow my son. Tomorrow will be our day to be sad. But tonight, let's choose to be happy."

He didn't approve, but he understood.

My prayer that night was simple:

"God please come back. Right now. I cannot face tomorrow.

Ethiopia Trip Recap Day 6: That's love.

2011-10-19T09:23:00.005-05:00

We were told by the government that our paperwork would be approved and waiting on us this morning. Yemamu and I were doubtful. TIA-This Is Africa after all. We were so nervous about our paperwork being finished, I made our entire team get up and travel with us to the government office. All seven of us.
The government official assigned to our case couldn't stop staring at all of us standing next to his tiny desk. He had made a few changes to the proposal and said that as long as we went and made the corrections, he would sign the approval. We raced to an Internet cafe, corrected the documents and were back to his office within the hour. As he promised, there was a paperwork. Signed. Sealed. Delivered. This is what one of my LoPa partners posted on our facebook page when I told her the news.
Isaiah 45:2-3: "I will go before you and will level the mountains; I will break down gates of bronze and cut through bars of iron. I will give you the treasures of darkness, riches stored in secret places, so that you may know that I am the LORD, the God of Israel, who summons you by name."

Amen Sister! We were so excited and everyone was in tears. Well, every one but our Ethiopian official. He really was ready for us to leave. We headed out for a celebratory lunch. We called all of our cooks and security guard at the center and made sure they knew to stoke up the fires and bring on the kids because feeding would begin IN THE MORNING!!!!!

Hugging it out:

We headed back to the center after lunch to finish profiling all of our kids and make sure that we were apprised of needs of each child.

I fell in love with this girl. She was so shy and never really wanted to smile, but when she did, she blew the lens off my camera.

As we neared the end of the day, the last kids to be profiled were the boys from the dump. They had waited patiently for three days while everyone else went before them, as they waited their turn. We were through about four of them, asking each one what grade they would be in school, when Yemamu stopped in the middle of translating. He didn't say anything for a moment. He asked the same question again. He and the boy we were interviewing seemed to disagree. Yemamu asked some follow up questions. Then Yemamu got real quiet. Then he got teary.

He looked at me.

"this boy. Samuel. He is in school."

I was shocked. "How?" "I thought he lived at the dump?"

"He does."

Now I was floored. "Who pays his school fees?" "School is not free in Ethiopia."

Yemamu pointed to the group of boys from the dump.

"They pool their money from selling scrap so that at least he can go to school."

My small feeble mind still couldn't comprehend. "Why?"

Yemamu just smiled. "Because they are family and they love him."

Samuel wants to be a teacher. With supporting LoPa art sales, you are sending him to school, along with all the other boys who sacrificed to see their friend succeed.

Our team was exhausted but The Hero and I only had two more days on the ground and I wanted to breath every last breath of African air I could squeeze into my lungs. Cherinet, the LoPa artist I met a few days earlier, had invited us to a jazz club that evening, so we went for a few hours.

As we were leaving to take Tom to the airport, Sisay grabbed The Hero and asked me to take picture of he and his American brother together. My heart has never been so full. Full of a day of provision, love, grace and knowing that for the first time in a long time, I was living in the center of who He had made me to be and He was receiving the glory.

As I lay in bed, I let the tears roll. "Tomorrow. Tomorrow feeding would begin. Our 60 kids would be starving no more. Jesus, 'every good and perfect gift'". This day was definitely a good and perfect gift.

Ethiopia Trip Recap Day 5

2011-10-13T13:55:00.003-05:00

I had a lot of excuses for going back to Ethiopia. I wanted to see K, LoPa products needed to be purchased, kids in our program needed to be profiled, office space needed to be secured and paid for, Hands for the Needy needed supplies brought in; but all these excuses with the exception of seeing K could have been done by any one other than me. I felt extremely selfish taking The Hero and I away from our family for 10 days without a really solid reason, but I booked our tickets praying that we were being obedient.
Three days before we left, we learned that Hands for the Needy paperwork continued to be held up in the government office; we were still being denied governmental approval to be a fully functioning non-profit and therefore we could not feed any of the kids in our program. One piece of paper being signed by one man was all that was keeping sixty kids in our program from receiving two daily meals.
I had my mission. God was sending us to Ethiopia for such a time as THIS.

The Hero, Yemamu and I set off early in the morning for the government office on Tuesday. Since most of the children at our center were still celebrating with their families for the holiday, our remaining team went to help treat a woman in Korah who had been run over by a trash truck.
The official at the government office was less than helpful. Our paperwork had been on his desk for almost four months and we only needed one more signature to make us legitimate. He was less than thrilled to see us. He explained the program was outlined perfectly but that he was a very busy man and didn't have time to sign the paperwork. I explained that I could not feed the kids in our program without the proper paperwork and that I would not leave the country until our paperwork was final. He said to come back in the morning. Again, I explained I would not leave Ethiopia and he this time promised to sign the paperwork in the morning.

We returned to the guest house, gathered our team and walked to lunch. Yemamu was obviously worried that the paperwork would not be signed, but I assured him I would make good on my promise; I would send The Hero home on Friday morning and stay here until we had the proper paperwork in place.

As we walked to lunch, a loud voice across the street kept calling Yemamu's name. It was one of the artists that LoPa partners with, Cherinet! He offered to take us to one of his studios, which was just around the corner from our guest house.

Me and the Ethiopia Picasso:

An example of his amazing work:

We finished lunch and of course our daily dose of caffeine:

Since our day was suddenly blank, we ran some errands.

Someone needed new shoes.

Tom needed a haircut.

We needed supplies at the guest house.

We drove all over Addis.

We played with the camera.

The picture of my necklace is significant because it is my JunkPosse Africa with tiny heart with K's name on it. When we met almost two years ago, I was wearing it but K had no idea what it meant. As we were driving down the road this day, he grabbed the Africa, said "this is Africa." I smiled and told him he was right. He grabbed the heart and said "this is me." "Yes, son. It is you, right next to my heart."

We played new games.

We fulfilled one of this mama's life long dreams, to push my son on a swing.

We cuddled in the grass.

We discovered new things. Like Abbey's head lamp.

We just played.

The air was perfect and still. The mood was soft and light. Other than being denied our government paperwork, it was the perfect Ethiopian day. I wanted to do it again. And then again. And again every day again after that.

As I took a breather from getting my butt kicked in soccer, I whined to God:

"Why can't it be like this forever."
He whispered back:

"Why cannot you not accept these small gifts? Each moment of each day is a gift if only you will open it and realize it."

I shut up.

And went back to playing soccer.

Trip Recap Day Four Part Two: All I Could Do Was Laugh

2011-10-11T11:25:00.004-05:00

I've never had a good sense of smell. I often times have The Hero smell food in our fridge because I can't smell well enough to determine some thing's freshness. But that gift was of no measure in the city dump. I smelled before I knew we were there. The putrid air sprang up a sudden cough that I couldn't stop. My nostrils stung and the bugs that hung around my face clamored for space inside my eyes, nose and mouth. I could barely see to walk even though the sun was bright and warm. I hung very tightly to Solomon, a man who helps Yemamu and Sisay with their work in Korah.

I've attached the video below to give you an idea of what our team was walking through once we were in the dump. But what I cannot impart to you is the smell. Imagine the worst smell you've ever known and multiply it by infinity.

Every living thing in this place seemed to be on the cusp of death. Dogs ran wild and I knew for the first time why my children were terrified of dogs when they first came home from Ethiopia. Puppies were everywhere, scavenging for trash on the side of a sliding mountain of filth. Men and boys dug with their hands where I was terrified to place my feet.
I don't know what hell will be like, I pray I never know, but I am sure that Korah's trash dump will be at it's entrance.

As we passed out food, we approached a boy who was no older than 11 or 12. He had a bag of treasures from his morning working that he would soon take to the market to sell. He may make 30cents from his efforts. When Yemamu handed him the bag, he plopped down and began to tear open the bag and I noticed his hands. His black skin was amplified fifty shades of dark but the mire, feces, trash and debris of his work. I hurled inside my mouth. It was the stupidest thing I could have done at that moment, but I asked if I could wash his hand.
He stared at me like the crazy, white woman I am, just wanting to eat, but he let me. It took six wet wipes and half of travel-sized hand sanitizer container to wipe off the muck so he could eat. I just couldn't bear the thought of this angel ingesting any more of this despicable place into his body.
I would not let myself cry, even though this mama's heart was so pissed off that this place exists and this boy was not in school or with a family. I choked down my own bile and tears and just kept telling him he was beautiful.

We obviously were drawing a crowd and some of the boys from our program came to meet us. They did not want us to hug them because although people of Korah are cursed~a literal translation of the word, these boys were worse. They were thrown away. I hugged them anyway. I wasn't going to forget them or throw them away and I'd be damned if I let anyone else do it again.

One boy especially took great care in helping me. I recognized him from the center and he took great pains in helping guide me down the hill so we could see his "home". Amy crossed a trench of flowing water along with two more of our team, so when Bilelu jumped across, he assumed I'd be right behind him. I must have stepped on something different, because all I could feel was me sinking and then I was moving...downward!

My feet couldn't find a place to stand up and even though it was an open invitation to inhale a mouth full of bugs, I screamed for Solomon and Yemamu. I was waist deep in sewer and all I could see was Bilelu's face, he was almost in tears. The sweetie thought he had let me fall. Solomon's massive arms were grabbing my hands and pulling me out so fast I wasn't stuck for more than a few seconds and I could only pray I hadn't cut myself; a lot of the children from our center and Korah have contracted HIV and/or Hepatitis from this place by picking up a broken vial or needle from the hospital's trash.

I regained my head and looked down at my body. I almost fell back in because I was laughing so hard. It was all I could do in that moment. I laughed. Abbey was right behind me and fell ankle deep too, and boy were we a disgusting mess.

Note that the top of my pants are red. Five minutes before this picture, my entire pants were red.
I made is successfully across the second time and from then until the end of the day, I don't think that Bilelu let go of my hand. We saw his "home" that he shared with six or seven older boys. A pack of twenty wild dogs ran back and forth the entire time we were visiting. Yemamu explained that the boys had trained them to be attack dogs for anyone who tried to steal the metal the boys collected.
We hiked back the way we came because it had started to rain. Our team was quite the sight. Everyone in Korah who was outside just stopped and stared at Abbey and I. We still had about twenty bags of food left but everyone on our team wanted to give to the boys at the dump. Bilelu walked with me home, asking if he was going to see me tomorrow. This question was starting to break my heart, because I knew the answer would soon change. But for today it was still "of course."

Knowing that those boys were heading home broke my heart, but watching them walk back with food enough to feed them all for two days warmed me. Two days...we HAD to get our governmental approval within two days. HFN HAD to be up and functioning. I couldn't leave this place if it wasn't. I would never be able to forgive myself.

We walked home because Abbey and I were too disgusting to use any one's taxi and I was hoping the rain would help wash away my stench. I laughed at the sight of myself. I laughed because I was convinced that if I didn't I would look down and my heart would have shattered into a million pieces and let's face it, I laughed because I smelled worse than the entire group of teenage boys who a half a day early didn't want to permeate my fair skin with their smell. And I'm pretty sure God was getting a good laugh too.

Ethiopia Trip Recap Day 4 Part 1

2011-10-08T21:35:00.002-05:00

One of the things I adore about Ethiopian culture is the dedication to honor and respect. It is reverent and expected to refer to an elder as "Mother" or "Father". We had been in Sisay's mother's home for about ten minutes before it was apparent that both Sisay as well as Yemamu revered the woman they both constantly referenced as "Mother".
I only asked her name once, and although I couldn't pronounce it, I couldn't forget that it's meaning stands for "the sun". She offered to spend her holiday slaughtering and preparing the sheep that we had bought yesterday. I am sure that Yemamu and Sisay learned a lot of their acts of service by watching this woman in their youth.

We arrived at her house early and she demanded that we eat before we began packaging the meals we would be delivering that day. I've had a lot of Ethiopian food, but lamb tips and doro wat fresh out of the open cooking pot were unbelievable. I know now why The Angel always asks me if there will be chicken wings in Heaven. I hope so too!

After we were treated to an amazing meal, we set up an assembly line of preparing the food for delivery. Abbey and Amy folded the injera over a whopping scoop of lamb wat, The Hero placed the food into plastic bags and Tom and I tied the bags. We made well over 75 packages of food.

Yemamu gave us all a taste of what is considered an Ethiopian delicacy which is cooked with peppers and tastes like spicy hamburger meat. I won't tell you what it actually is because you'll never try and you will be missing out!

Our team walked all through Korah, delivering food to people who were sick, injured or who were too poor to have bought food for their families for the holiday. As always, we had a horde of children who followed us everywhere and The Hero and Tom drew a lot of attention with their height, so we often stopped and let the kids get twirled around, picked up and loved on. I cannot tell how precious it was to watch two grown men shower children with hugs and laughs. There's a reason why we all need a father.

Several of the homes we visited were outside of Korah, people who were even too poor to afford the rent inside Korah itself. They were forced to build their homes just outside the trash dump, subject to being attacked by hyenas, thieves or being driven out by the government.

Since it was still the rainy season during our trip, mud abounded and the ground beneath us was subject to constant movement. We went down a hill and through a river.

Back up another steep, slimy hill,

We passed several people who even though it was a holiday, they had gone to the dump to find food, plastics to sell or paper to burn. This was at the top of our last hill looking down. This old woman was carrying a huge bundle of metal on her back to take down and sell.

As we approached the dump, buzzards were everywhere. They were huge, gawking at us as if they were just waiting for one of us to sit still enough to make a meal out of us. Trash, sewer, sludge, water, and bones surrounded us and I wanted to turn around and go back. To go tuck myself in and convince myself that this place didn't exist and that people didn't actually live, work and eat here.

I just kept praying over and over that God would give me strength.

I was definitely going to need it.

Ethiopia trip recap: Day 3

2011-10-07T13:42:00.003-05:00

My journal on day three of our Ethiopian trip says this:

"September 11, 2011.

Today will forever go down as one of my favorites.

My birthday has been redeemed."

For a decade now, there has been a dark cloud over my birthday. Just telling people the date elicits people's memories of where they were on September 11th. I've never wanted a big party or a lot of fancy gifts and now that I'm getting older, I'd rather just the day pass without much more than a handmade card from my kids.

When we were researching Ethiopian adoptions, The Hero and I learned that Ethiopians celebrate New Years on Septebmer 11th. I thought that was symbolic; The Hero and I were getting a fresh start to our family through Ethiopia but it would provide a good reason for jubilation on a day that needs some redemption.

But nothing prepared me for being IN Ethiopia ON New Years.

Our team was up early and we headed to church. I've heard for a long time that Africans as a continent can do them some church, but I know now why Moses married an Ethiopian woman...she could ROCK some praise music.

The services was three hours and we were all exhausted and filled with joyful noises to our Maker. We headed to a cafe for lunch and our daily necessity of macchiatos. During the meal, Sisay and Yemamu disappeared and returned with a white, double layered birthday cake.

I couldn't hold back the tears.

The looks on their faces were pure delight. I had never seen anyone else who could get more fun out of giving than these two men.

I adore the fact there was not enough room to put the 'y' on Lindsey.

As the team sang 'Happy birthday' and we finished cake, I asked a stupid question. I had wanted to ask Yemamu if he had ever had a birthday cake of his own. What I asked was "did you ever have birthday cake as a child?" Yemamu's face was all teeth and grin as he nodded and said "Oh yes Lindsey. The Sheraton trash truck."
Ouch.
My dear friend, my brother in Christ who had grown up in Korah and dug through the trash dump for his necessities had also found some sweet memories there as well. The fact that he and many, many like him could distinguish delicacies from which trash truck they were in broke my heart. And these two sweet men had bought me a birthday cake. I am sure they had never bought one for themselves or even one another. It truly was one of the most humbling experiences of my life.

Since our paperwork had not yet cleared the Ethiopian government, Hands for the Needy was still unable to feed the kids in our program. Yemamu and Sisay explained that even though tomorrow was Monday, it would be a holiday and everyone would be with their families. Except the boys at the dump. We asked if we could prepare a meal and take it to them to celebrate the holiday and buy the meal out of the funds that our team had brought. Yemamu and Sisay were delighted and we jumped into the van to buy a sheep.

What?
A sheep?

We headed to the sheep market (I didn't know there was such a thing) where hundreds of people and sheep milled around, haggling and tying up animals which would soon be a holiday feast. Yemamu and Sisay engaged in aggressive negotiations over a particular animal and this proved to be quite the lengthy process. Sisay was giving me the play by play as to what you look for in a good sheep.
-Check his nose to make sure he isn't sick.
-Check the backbone towards his rump, if it's fatty, he's healthy.
-Open his mouth and look at his teeth to make sure he isn't too old.

As we finalized negotiations, we paid 700 birr (roughly $41.00) for what the boys determined to be a fine specimen and Yemamu estimated he would feed at least 60 people.
As the sheep followed along behind us, one thought kept flashing through my head.
How are we getting Mr. Sheep to Sisay's mom (who would be butchering him and making the meal)?

Mr. Sheep riding in our van.

After we delivered Mr. Sheep to his final resting place, Yemamu and Sisay asked if we wanted to attend a New Year's Eve party.
Well, yes!
Yemamu explained that it is customary on Ethiopian New Year to attend an all night church service thanking God for what He did in the previous year and praying for what He would do in the upcoming year.
We picked up K and off we went.
The service was packed. Elbow to elbow these people stood, dancing and praising and jumping. It was incredible to watch. The entire service was in Amharic and while I wanted very much to be reverent, K was extremely bored by hour two and I pulled out a bouncy ball that my mother-in-law had packed for him (I love that woman. While I was packing him undies and clothes, she packed candy and toys).
We played and goofed off for the better part of an hour. Until he started to fall asleep. Since I didn't have any where for him to lay down, Yemamu called us a cab and our team headed home, while Yemamu and Sisay stayed behind to finish their prayer vigil.

As we said good night, K hugged my neck and kissed my cheek and asked again:

"Mama. I see you tomorrow?"

"Absolutely my son."

If you would have told me ten years ago that my favorite birthday yet was in a dirt floor church, making booger jokes with an eleven year old, I'd have thought you were drinking.

But I would have not understood how funny boogers can actually be.

Ethiopian trip Recap: Day Two; Part Two

2011-10-05T21:23:00.004-05:00

18 months is a long time. For an 11yr old boy, it's almost an eternity.

Of course, we had written letters back and forth and I had prayed for him every day,

but I'd be lying if I didn't tell you that I had wondered whether or not K would even

remember me.

Yemamu had not yet told him that I was in Ethiopia.

He had only said he was coming to get him for dinner.

As the door of the van opened and our dinner date climbed inside,

we both squealed with delight at seeing one another.

We hugged and cried and laughed all the way to dinner.

His English was amazing, so much so that we needed very little translation.

He kept telling The Hero and I that he had missed us and that he was so glad

we were with him.

When we got bored of talking, the photobooth app on my ipad

was very entertaining.

VERY entertaining.

Since I had spent most of the day asking kids in our program what they wanted to be,

it seemed mandatory that I ask K the same thing.

He didn't miss a beat.

He smiled and said "I want to be Yemamu."

I tried very hard to hold back the tears, but since I had seen

first hand Yemamu's unending love for those around him,

other than Jesus, I couldn't imagine K could have a better role model.

As we said goodnight, my son leaned in and asked me one thing.

"Mama, I see you tomorrow?"

Absolutely my son. Absolutely.

ET Trip Recap: Day Two; Part One

2011-10-02T21:04:00.005-05:00

We were up early for our second day in Ethiopia. Our team couldn't wait to get to the center and meet all of our kids. We decided to take a couple of the soccer balls that we had brought along and headed out for the day.
Our center is inside of Korah but only a two minute walk from our guest house. That was the first thing I remembered about Ethiopia, walking every where. I loved it. Since we still didn't have our paperwork from the government, we were not allowed to legally feed the kids we were wanting to assist, so we were just allowed to play and profile the kids. That was the only instruction I needed.

We handed a soccer ball to some kids that were standing inside the gate and I took the other inside our community center. There were about ten kids inside and I thought about just tossing the ball to them so they could play. Then I saw her. A teenager. Leaning against her wooden cane toward the back of the small building. She smiled at me and hobbled forward. I put the ball on the ground and lightly moved it her direction. Her face exploded with a smile and she steadied herself and kicked it back.

While The Hero and the rest of the team played thumb wars and a hand slapping game, me and my new friend Thisgae kicked the ball back and forth for almost a half hour, before Yemamu came to get me for a tour of the facility grounds and to start profiling the kids. Our center is about two acres of fenced land smack in the middle of Korah. There is a community center, a shower facility, a cooking building, a storage building and two outdoor huts. There also is a small garden and plenty of room to keep it growing. Yemamu and Sisay have done an amazing job of already planting some corn and have plans to continue to expand the food choices and vegetation at our facility.

As we exited outside the community center, THAT smell hit my nose and my memory. Since it was rainy season, there hadn't been a lot of peppers drying outside. Berbere is the mainstay spice in Ethiopian cooking and the only way to make it is to dry a LOT of peppers before they are ground and added with other flavors. Our cooks were drying peppers outside and the smell was like smelling baking bread at my Nannie's house; I immediately felt at home.

We the rest of our team spent the day touring the grounds and playing with the kids, Yemamu and I profiled about twenty of our kids. It seemed to take forever because of the translation delay. I felt awful that Yemamu had to keep stopping because when he would give me a name like Bilielieu, I had to make him stop and spell it.

Hearing our kids' stories were horrifically beautiful. Some came alone, some with their parents but all came with a need and they were praying that they fit into Hands For the Needy criteria in order to receive food and education.

The story that stood out the most that first day was the father who brought in his twins, whose mother had been run over by a trash truck while working at the dump and had lost her leg. I just couldn't imagine that digging through a dump was considered going to work. I never again could complain about traveling to an air conditioned office every day.

Our team was exhausted but we had to leave for the day to pick up our last missing team member from the airport and check that Abby and Amy's bags had finally arrived. And I had a dinner date that I wasn't going to miss for the world...

Open Hands

2011-09-23T08:04:00.003-05:00

I've been trying to go through my 900+ pictures of our trip.

Last night, I had my slide show going and The Angel saw this picture:

She asked who this was.

I told her it was a girl in the Hands For The Needy program whose name was Zahara.

Zahara's mom was run over by a trash truck at the dump, scavaging for food.

Zahara's mom was one of the people for who our team provided medical attention.

The Angel stared at Zahara's face awhile and then she asked:

"Mommy, but what is she doing?"

I explained that Zahara was praying and giving thanks

before our first official feeding at the center.

The Angel wrinkled her nose.

"Mommy, I KNOW that, but what is with her hands?"

I gave it my best shot.

I told her that opening your hands in prayer was a physical sign that

you were open to what God was doing in your life;

like a sign that you were accepting whatever He says to you in prayer.

She skipped off.

I've been struggling with being home.

More so that in trips past.

The tears are constant.

The hurt is real.

The brokenness of my heart is like a scab, rebroken and gaping.

I want very much to use these emotions to effecutate change, but in His timing and for His glory; anything else is about me, or Africa, or Kaleab, and that's not how it should be.

This morning as the kids bowed their heads over their breakfasts,

I tried to lift up thanksgiving without tears.

As I clasped my hands and closed my eyes,

I focused on saying aloud for what I was thankful.

Before 'amen', I looked over at The Angel, whose hands were extended outward

and fully open.

Lord, there was a reason you wanted the children to come to you.

Thank you for using two children, on two sides of the world, to show me how to pray.

May this transition back home be no transition at all, but merely a daily reminder to myself to radiate Your light through the stories I write with my life and I re-tell of those I have met.

ET Trip Recap: Day One

2011-09-22T11:28:00.004-05:00

We arrived in Addis Ababa early in the morning on Friday after two days of traveling (one day was not 'traveling', as we were delayed out of OKC and spent the day sitting at our home airport). The Hero said I did really well on the flights, which is great for me because as most of you know I HATE to fly. After meeting two of our team members and spending two hours through customs and baggage claim, we had arrived safely back in Africa. I couldn't have been more excited. For 18 months I had been aching to be back and here we were at last. Even my breaths felt at home.
Seeing Yemamu again was beautiful and throwing my arms around his neck brought tears. Seeing him again so clearly reminded me of the paths that God intertwined to fulfill His purposes and it began 18 months ago with Yemamu being assigned to show us the city by our adoption agency. Through those two weeks of seeing his heart and his passion for the people he was raised with in Korah, God planted the seed for Yemamu to start Hands for the Needy and I began to love this man like I did my own family. Yemamu proved to be such an amazing guide and trustworthy soul, I referred everyone travelling to Addis to meet him, which led to him being introduced to Amy and then my LoPa partners, which led to LoPa donating our profits to Hands for The Needy.
He took us to our guest house, a two minute walk from Korah, and let us rest before dinner. We napped and when he asked us what sounded good for dinner, our entire team laughed and screamed "We're in Ethiopia, Ethiopian food." We spent dinner talking and telling stories about our kids and learning about the projects that HFN had going and the progress that had been made in just a year of existence. By the time we left dinner, our team couldn't wait to see the center and meet the kids that we were going to be supporting.
Some people need time to adjust to time changes, sensory changes and the differences between being on one continent after directly coming from another. Not me. Not this trip. I felt like I was home. As if for the first time in 18 months there were no expectations of me, no time lines or due dates to follow and I felt my soul relax, as if it had settled on the back porch with a pitcher of lemonade and was watching the sun set. It was beautiful and all I could pray for that night was that God use my being to bring Him glory and to embrace every opportunity to show His love.
As The Hero and I climbed into bed that night, I felt like a kid preparing for Christmas morning. After a year of praying, planning and seeking God's direction, we were finally going to see the faces and touch the hands of those we would be serving. I barely slept.

2011-09-19T06:10:00.003-05:00

I wrote this Saturday morning as we were touching down in OKC. After two days, it's still all I can piece together without losing sight of my computer because of the tears.

We left Ethiopia Friday morning about 11:oo a.m. I cried all the way to the airport. Sobbed as we got out of the taxi and hugged Yemamu, Sisay, the rest of our team and Kaleab. Our flight to Dubai was almost four hours and I wept like a baby most of the way. During our six hour layover, I tried to talk to The Hero, but each time I opened my mouth, all that came out were tears. Our overnight flight to Atlanta was not much better.
And as I sit typing this, we are about an hour outside Oklahoma City, and I'm tearing up. Please understand, after 10 days, I am ready to see my children. But a huge piece of me is still in Ethiopia.

Re-entry is always hard. It usually takes me weeks to back to a routine. This time is different. I don't want to go back to how it was before. I don't want to walk into a grocery store and forget those that struggle to find food on a daily basis. I don't want to eat another meal at a restaurant and forget those 12 boys who eat, sleep and scrounge for their every necessity at a trash dump.

There is so much of our trip that I will eventually be able to share; to attempt to attach words to what occurred those beautiful 10 days. It's just not today. There will be much that I cannot share for awhile; and parts of it I never will. Today the hurt is fresh, raw and while I always want it to be there, I don't know yet how to verbalize or write it and I know you couldn't understand my mumbling through all the crying.

Cursed and Unimportant

2011-09-15T09:55:00.009-05:00

(Guest Post by: Layla Payton)

I have a disorder that causes me swallowing difficulties. Sometimes it gets so bad that I have to go on a baby food, or a liquid diet. I am on the baby food diet at the moment.

I think an ulcer may be causing this particular flair-up, but I really don't want to talk about that right now. That's not the point of this post. The point of this post is attitude. I usually go into a major funk when I have to go on one of these diets. I LOVE to eat. I LOVE to bake. And I LOVE to eat what I bake. Take my food away, and I get a tad grumpy. Okay, probably more than a tad. I start to feel sorry for myself, because "everyone else" gets to eat a cheeseburger.

No, not everyone.

There is this little place. You may have heard of it.

It's called, "Africa."

I have some friends who are there at this very moment. Friends who stood in an official's office today. They dug in their heels and said (in so many words), " We are not leaving until you sign the paperwork." And they didn't, until a certain official signed that significant paperwork. Paperwork that NOW legally allows them to feed 60 children in Korah.

My sweet friend, Lindsey Andrews, posted this on her Facebook status:

"I made our entire team (5 of us) go the government office this morning. He about freaked to see all of us sitting at his desk BUT paperwork was signed and filed with the government!!!!! We are ready to start feeding tomorrow. THANK YOU JESUS!!!!!!!!"

(Yeah, now you know why Lindsey is often referred to as: "Bulldog." That's what you get when you have someone who is CrAzY in love with Jesus, AND an attorney.)

Do you know about Korah?

Please watch this if you don't.

(You'll need some Kleenex.)

"Cursed and Unimportant."

What if that was said about YOUR children?

What if that was YOUR child digging in the trash for food?

Yeah, kinda puts a whole new spin on things. Things like complaining about having to eat baby food.

I eat like a queen.

Enough with the "poor me," already.

The following is a post from Tom Cox, who was also in Korah:

"Visited the trash dump and met some boys that live in a make shift hut. They collect plastic bags and sell them by the bundle. They get about $0.30 per bundle. On top of that, they do this while dodging the bulldozer. The cool thing is, they are pooling their money together to send one of the boys to school.

That's the love of Jesus!"

Yep...

...that'll give you a GREAT BIG attitude adjustment!

What We Really Need

2011-09-02T23:10:00.003-05:00

Many of you have written asking what you can do

or send

or give

while we are in Ethiopia.

The Hero and our travel group have talked

and prayed about it a lot.

The team has decided that we are loaded and ready to go.

But on a personal note, there is only one thing we really need:

Pray.

PrAy.

PRAY some more.

Pray for my flight anxiety.

I HATE to fly.

Pray for our team.

Individually and collectively.

That we would be at every moment, the hands and feet of the One who sent us.

Pray for The Angel and The Dinosaur.

We've never been away longer than two nights at a time.

Pray for this momma's heart.

I'll leave part of here and leave the rest of it in Ethiopia.

If you are interested in writing a guest post while we are out,

send your post to andrews dot africabound at gmail dot com

by Monday night.

2011-08-30T21:02:00.003-05:00

It's been 18 months since we've been a family of four.

Sometimes, the days go by so fast, it's only when I look back at pictures

that I am reminded of how much the kids have changed,

and how far we've come as a family.

I had a friend post this video a few days ago.

I remembered this song from when we were in the waiting process

for The Princess and The Dinosaur.

I had it up and playing on my computer today at work

when The Dinosaur bounded into my lap.

I hadn't been fully paying attention to the video while I was working,

but as The Dinosaur asked me questions about the video and the song,

remembrance of longing for my children two years ago flooded back.

As The Dinosaur sat in my arms and I sang along,

I let the tears stream down my face

and onto to one of the precious heads I waited so long to meet.

Single Digits

2011-08-29T21:43:00.003-05:00

We've entered into The Hero and I's single digit countdown to our

Ethiopia trip.

Only 9 more days.

I'm so excited I can hardly breathe.

9 more days.

And It's Only Saturday

2011-08-27T23:13:00.003-05:00

The last few days have been crazy.

We sold our house.

The sellers accepted our offer on another one.

We threw our first LoPa Art event in OKC Thursday night.

Friends came in from out of town to help and hang out.

Ethiopia for The Hero and I is in 10 days.

Between packing for the trip,

spending time with friends,

the art event,

packing up our house,

I was looking forward to quiet afternoon at home today.

The Angel and I were almost asleep on the couch for a nap

when The Dinosaur swallowed a penny.

So this afternoon was spent at the Emergency Room,

having X-Rays done and thanking Jesus that the penny

had successfully passed through his airway.

While I am hopeful that tomorrow will be a little more relaxed,

it is only Saturday.

And life around here is nothing if not lively.

Older Child Adoption: For Me

2011-08-15T22:19:00.004-05:00

The Hero and I were kidless when we brought home The Angel and The Dinosaur.

Our agency made us watch a lot of videos about parenting.

We had a lot of conversations with experts, adoptive parents and our family about "older" kids.

In the adoption community, "older" is defined as older than three years.

We had even more discussions about adopting two kids at a time.

The literature says that adopting a sibling set is extremely challenging.

They were right.

Many people tried to deter us from the boxes marked "older" and "sibling".

The adoption community has had some terrible stories.

And I felt at times we only heard the terrible.

We were told that our children would have to be with us as much time as we were apart to

properly attach to us.

While this is a great guidepost to follow,

it was not our story.

I believed that from the beginning of time God hand picked me to mother

The Angel and The Dinosaur.

There are days, I question His sanity.

I don't feel worthy to parent them at all.

I can truly tell you that The Angel is number 1 in the biggest heroes in my life.

Her story is tragic.

But she'll never tell you.

She's too busy smiling and breathing in life one inhale and exhale at a time.

It's why I think she's beautiful.

Not just her bouncy curls,

killer smile or curvy frame.

It's the way her driving spirit wakes her up every day.

Praying for a bigger house so that God will give us more kids.

Begging me to have a garage sale so the $ from her lemonade stand can "feed some kids".

Telling me that I'm better than coffee. (it's own blog post.)

And making us all laugh hysterically.

She will take on anything and will be ready for whatever plunge our family makes.

As long as we make it together.

(that's really she and I, holding hands and laughing our heads off.)

While I never question any one's choice of age when they are adopting.
It truly is an issue of your family's directive and spending ample time in prayer.
But all I can tell you about my "older" child,
Is that she is for me.
And while there is so much of her life that I missed,
I know He is glorified in it all.

Angel, you have the spirit of an eagle and the fight of a tiger.
Watching over you on this earth is an honor and I do not take it lightly.
Thank you Jesus for her Daddy and I are grateful~we are just not deserving.
But I am so glad that she's for me.

Shoutout Saturday

2011-08-13T06:56:00.003-05:00

It's back to school time.

Time for new pencils,

crisp new notebooks,

and the dreaded back to school clothes shopping.

So instead of busting it to the mall,

check out these tees for your crew and help bring a family together.

And then help me spread the word for ShoutOut Saturday.

Meet the Wayman Family.

They blog here.

And you can follow their journey to Ethiopia

to their son and see some of the adorable finds

that Jennifer posts about along their journey.

She had a GREAT jewelry find in yesterday's post.

And have their own etsy store here.

So you can go straight there and buy one of these:

Check out the Crockett family's tee:

I've been following their Ethiopian adoption journey for several months.

They blog here.

Lindsey is always posting product reviews,

adorable adventures of her little family and

why adoption is on her heart.

They have also been chosen for the month of August

as the Home for Hire family of the month.

This means to click the above link,

shop the Etsy shop,

buy until your fix is over

and 25% of your sale goes to the Crockett family!

I hope you all have an amazing Saturday.

1st Time A Coincidence

2011-08-11T09:49:00.004-05:00

I'll be 32 in September.

Within that time frame, I can't tell you that I've ever wanted a tattoo.

It's not that I have a religious restriction.

Or a hesitation about "marking my body".

I don't.

I just never wanted to be in my 80s and look down and think

"What the hell was I thinking with that?"

"Tweety bird, really?"

"That's not spelled correctly."

Or,

"I'm not sure I can tell what that was supposed to be."

A group of friends and I were actually standing in a tattoo parlor

in OKC 2 years ago waiting to get variations of Africa.

The artist was ticked there were 10 of us.

And I don't think she gave a rip about Africa.

She was so rude, we all left.

Back around Christmas, a sponsorship letter arrived from K.

At the bottom of it, he had drawn an adorable flower.

I told The Hero I had found my tattoo.

He laughed it off.

"Baby, that's probably not just for you. It's probably just a coincidence.

He probably draws that all the time."

Maybe the first time.

But imagine my surprise when I opened up the mail yesterday.

Our first letter from K since Christmas.

And at the bottom:

So don't be surprised if some time soon,

The above image is inked on my body.

Happy 32nd to me.

2011-08-09T21:45:00.003-05:00

Two years ago, if you had asked me or The Hero

where we would be vacationing on our first vaca away from the kids,

It would have probably sounded like

Mexico

The Caribbean

Or some other place with a beach and a glass of wine.

Well, in exactly one month,

The Hero and I will take our first vacation away from our kids.

The first time we've been away in 16 months.

Where are we jetting off to you ask?

Let's face it.
The Hero and I aren't the same people we were 2 years ago.
Ethiopia,
here we come.

Have I Told You Today

2011-08-08T18:24:00.002-05:00

When I was a kid, my dad traveled all the time.

It was not uncommon for him to leave on Sunday night until Friday afternoon.

When he was with us,

he was always giving us a hard time.

His favorite thing to ask me was

"Have I told you today that I love you?"

I always got so sick of hearing that,

but like with most parental issues,

you always end up sounding like your parents,

so it was no surprise that a few months after The Angel and The Dinosaur were home,

I channeled Dad and started asking

"Have I told you today that I love you?

The Angel now makes it a game.

She is always asking me and

then bursting into laughter as she tells me

"well, I do; give me a kiss."

My baby sister came home this weekend and we had a great visit.

The Angel always takes Aunt LaLa leaving really hard,

so tonight she and I sat at the kitchen table and had a good cry.

The Dinosaur's world was completely displaced

with his two favorite women were crying.

He had no idea what to do with himself.

I had my head buried in my hands when his little fist was punching my arm.

"Hey Mommy?"

" Yeah buddy."

" Have I told you today that I luf you?"

While I really wanted to continue crying, I couldn't keep from laughing.

Booger Eater

2011-08-05T21:25:00.003-05:00

I need The Hero's stability.

I also need him to move me off high center.

We've been debating moving for several years now.

I've been dragging my feet.

Part of my lethargy is laziness; I'd rather have a root canal than move.

The other reason is nostalgic.

The Hero and I fell in love here.

The Hero asked me to marry him in our kitchen.

This place has held 8 years of the highs and lows of us.

After weeks of house hunting, searching and crunching the numbers,

The Hero had fallen in love and ready to place an offer on a house.

He was pushing me for an answer.

Pushing.

At dinner a few nights ago, I lost my temper.

I told him in front of The Angel that he was the boss and I didn't care.

If he was ready to move our family, even if I didn't agree,

I'd go anywhere with him.

The Angel's nose recoiled into her face and she

shot me a look.

"Mommy, Daddy is the boss?"

"Yes baby. Daddy is the boss."

"But Mommy, why?"

"Baby, the Bible says that Daddy is the head of our family."

She paused and thought about it.

She raised her finger to shake it back and forth.

"Mommy, that may be true.

But Mommy, Daddy is still a booger eater."

The Hero and I both burst into laughter.

I laughed until tears streamed down my face.

"Baby, why do you say that Daddy is a booger eater?"

She huffed.

"Mommy, Daddy is a boy.

And all boys are booger eaters."

Women Wednesday: Makeup Removal

2011-08-03T21:40:00.004-05:00

I am most upset with my kids when they lie to me. I don't think anything irks me like knowing that they have done something only to have them turn around and lie about it. Last night The Hero confronted me about an issue that I was not ready to address; so I did the thing I despise the most; I lied and told him I didn't know what he was talking about. Eight years together and The Hero knows me and he knows when to fight, but better than that, he knows how to win. I just had no desire to have my husband believe that I didn't have every area of my life together; even though he already knew better.

He let me go to bed feeling awful about lying to him. I was up at 6:30 this morning praying over my attitude and even The Hero was already at the station, I called and apologized.

Mommy: 0

The Hero: 2 (1 for avoiding the fight last night and 1 for out lasting me.)

I think we as women want every one around us to believe that we have it all together, that our families are a carbon copy of a Nordstrom catalog (we're more of the Old Navy variety, 'cause I can't keep The Dino without Cheeto stains) and we as women are all Maybelline models.

I wonder how much more fun The Hero and I would have had by lying in bed laughing, instead of ignoring the elephant in our bed and I wonder how much deeper my female relationships will be when we start discussing the hard stuff and removing the makeup.

PoPs

2011-07-31T21:18:00.002-05:00

Before I was a mom,

I was an aunt.

It is still one of the favorite titles attached to my name.

Before The Angel and The Dinosaur came home,

our niece and nephew were with us almost every weekend.

Now that our nephew is 16 and driving,

I feel like we are always begging to see him.

Having him around always keeps us laughing,

but I know that we are not near as cool as his friends right now.

Last weekend, however, we were a full crew.

Our nephew even brought one of his buddies to hang out with us.

We set out to pick peaches at an orchard about an hour away.

We got to the orchard too late and with the 105 temperature outside,

we opted for a favorite Oklahoma pit stop on old Route 66,

a burger joint that specializes in pop.

It's an old school salute to all things cola.

Oldies,

Random flavors,

And the perfect way to spend a Saturday.
(The Dino was having fun, he had just woken up from a nap :)

Trail to Thailand: Doctors Appointment

2011-07-26T19:26:00.004-05:00

Another accomplishment on the paperwork trail today.

The paperwork procedure leading up to our home study

has been quite lengthy this time around.

I don't remember so much prep work before our home study,

but then again, it may be me.

I think mommy hood has sucked out my brain.

The Hero and I went and had our physicals done by our physician.

Only one more stop this week (the kids have to visit their pediatrician for health updates)

and we can send off to our home study agency.

Then they will schedule us for a home study and come out

and see how much more insane we are than two years ago.

Praying to get it all done and sent off by Friday.

And that $1800 will appear in our bank account.

God will do both.

What The...?

2011-07-25T22:44:00.002-05:00

Has it really been 16 months we've been together?

Days it seems like we just met,

but more and more it feels like this

Instead of like this:

And our baby,

Isn't much of a baby anymore.

Thank you Lord for reminders.

Of where we were.

of where we are.

and where we have yet to go.

The Things I Can't

2011-07-18T22:10:00.003-05:00

I've noticed that having another girl in our family

creates it's own dynamic.

I love it but there are times that I become frustrated by two women in the house.

The Angel Can get The Hero to do things that I have tried for 8 years.

She has him wrapped like a Christmas present.

What ever she says, he snaps to attention.

Adopting a second time involves its own set of challenges, but we seem to be suffering from a lack of time. Although we pray for our new addition every night,

The Hero and I have struggled to

complete our home study paperwork.
To be honest, I've had mine down for almost a month now,

but The Hero had a HUGE test a few weeks ago

and has been lagging in the "recreational time" category.

On Saturday, The Angel was distraught

that our newest family member would not be home by Christmas

to play with her and was demanding some pretty stringent time frames.

I pulled out her notebook of paperwork

that we filled out when we were going through our first adoption

with her and The Dinosaur

and explained that this was going to be awhile.
She asked where we were in the paperwork stage

and I showed her the 100+ paperwork application,

The Hero had yet to complete.

I told her that this needed to be done first.

She huffed.

"Um...what do you need to say on that?"

Mommy: "Well Mommy has already filled it out.

Daddy just needs to finish."

The Angel: "Hmmm...why he not done?"

Mommy: "Well, Daddy has been busy."

The Angel: "Ok Mommy. I'm on it."

I laughed it off.

So tonight, after dinner,

right as The Hero was slinking into his chair and

breathing a relaxing end to the day,

his daughter questioned

"Daddy, is your home work done?"

The Hero, incredulous, glanced my direction.

I shrugged.

He answered her, almost laughing "What homework?"

Now both hands were on her hips,

"You know the home work. The one for (insert name)".

The Hero tried to get my assistance.

I ducked back into the kitchen.

He tried to fight back.

"Well honey, I'll work on it in a little bit."

She was not to be moved.

"Daddy, it better be done before you go to bed."

While the rest of us finished a movie,

The Hero pouted on the couch and finished his home work.

While being in the house with another girl is a challenge,

The Angel moves The Hero in directions, I never could.

I love that about her.

Gimmie A "T"...

2011-07-17T08:41:00.007-05:00

The Hero was at the fire station yesterday.

The Angel and The Dino were supposed to go to a birthday party.

They had talked about it for days.

But at the last minute, they said they would rather paint.

So we did.

The temps in Oklahoma have topped over 100 for almost two solid weeks.

I set up a fan on the porch.

Brought out the paints,

the paper,

the play clothes,

and just let them have at it.

We painted with brushes,

our fingers,

and made a complete mess.

We painted dogs,

and sunsets,

our names

dots,

uh, The Dino really never explained this one.

But even in the middle of a beautiful,

hot summer day,

a portion of our minds

were several continents away,

thinking about our newest family member.

Each of the kids wanted to paint something

for their soon-to-be sibling,

so Mommy painted it and

The Dino and The Angel put their stamp of approval on it.

That's right,

We LOVE Thailand!

Thank you so much to all of you that voted.

You all must know how much we love Africa,

because over 40% of the votes were
guessing that we were adopting from Uganda.

Not this time.

This time we're headed to Thailand.

Where our newest member waits.

Our winner for the "Worth the Wait" tee is:

Amanda from To God Be The Glory blog!

Thanks to everyone who played along!

Women Wednesday:

2011-07-13T21:20:00.003-05:00

I use to think that having a great girl friend meant I had done something right,

That I had picked a good friend.

The older I get, nothing could be further from the truth.

My best girl friends in life have always chosen me.

I guess I assumed having a good friend meant I was a good friend.

It's not.

I am a horrible friend.

I forget to call.

I forget birthdays.

I change plans, often times at the last minute.

I need a girlfriend to call me out about these things.

And I've found several.

Knowing where I am lacking as a friend is not always a fun conversation.

But if I want to have a good friend, it's important to learn to be one.

And I am grateful that the good Lord has sent me just the girls for the job.

So why do we as women avoid making new friends?

I think we avoid new girl friends because:

1.) There's too much laundry to do,

2.) We haven't yet determined what keeps us from being a good friend

1.) What keeps you from being a good friend?

2.) How has a girlfriend now/in the past challenged you to be better?

Me? Or Three?

2011-07-12T11:46:00.003-05:00

Becoming a mom overnight to two toddlers was hard.

Since neither The Hero or I had never parented before,

there was/is/always stuff we don't know.

And parenting two adopted children has its additional set of questions.

But the one we are asking ourselves lately is

Is it me?

Or because he's three?

The Dinosaur has his nickname because well,

he's a Dinosaur.

A cute dinosaur,

but a dinosaur all the same.

Two was adorable, challenging because of

attachment issues, but we've come to the other side of those I believe.

We are outside of the terrible 2s and fledgling in the

horrible 3s.

Maybe I was drinking or fell and hit my head when I was reading all those parenting books

and getting advice from all my mommy friends.

But I really thought that they were called the terrible 2s because

there was an ending date.

The Dinosaur would blow out his 3rd birthday candle

and there would be a respite.

Ha!Ha!

I almost fell off my chair laughing.

The Dino better at three?

Right.

So mommy may look like this for awhile:

Until The Dinosaur looks like this again:

Come on parents, fess up,
what was your most challenging parenting age?

Where In The World?

2011-07-07T12:05:00.005-05:00

For any of my new blog newbies:

1.) Welcome.

2.) We are adopting again.

3.) We haven't revealed much about our newest addition just yet.

4.) We kinda like messing with you guys about it too! ;)

We answered the question a few weeks ago about how many children we were bringing home.

A lot of you were shocked to learn it is one.

The next question everyone wants answered is WHERE?

Since we are still very early in the process (still gathering info for our home study),

we are going to give away a Worth the Wait tee again to a lucky reader.

All you do is:

1.) Go to the poll on the right and vote for where you think our newest clan member is from.

2.) Leave a comment to this post that you voted.

3.) Sit back and wait.

We'll draw and reveal our winner next week!

Women Wednesday: Roots Part 1

2011-07-06T09:37:00.005-05:00

Everyone has a story. It is a mixture of pain, beauty, hysterics and ridiculousness. Mine doesn't make me different from anyone else; just me. Perhaps by acknowledging that each of us have been hurt by another woman, we'll show more love to one another. Here are my roots, Part 1.

After my last Women Wednesday post, I was talking to a girlfriend who said "I thought that because you have always had good relationships with your mother and sister, you would be a terrible candidate for being afraid of women. Where did all this start?"
I laughed. Probably a huge reason why I have women issues because I was so close to my mom and sister. I always felt like I didn't need another female relationship. And I had starred in my own personal version of Mean Girls before Hayden Paniterrie arrived on the planet.

Being 75lbs and under 5ft tall at the start of junior high was laughable and boy, did my classmates laugh it up. While my body missed the memo about evolving, my father missed the memo about the color of men's collars in rural Oklahoma. While dad worked 8-5, my peers' fathers worked according to the sun; if it was in the sky, they were working. Although my parents struggled with money like everyone else in the late 1980s', the title of "spoiled rich girl" cemented my pre-teen biography.

I swore off all vanity; any modified change in my appearance only invited attention and attention was always more teasing. My hair was too straight and brown and my body resembled my nickname, "Twig". The gaggle of girls that tormented me hurt, but the silence from the boys in my class only confirmed that women run the world.

Home life was so good, I didn't want to disrupt it with my pubescent woes. Having three kids in five years left my parents busy, even if I had displayed angst about school; but I wasn't up for talking to mom and dad. While other mothers were making a home, mine was making a business. She made jewelry, ordered the best take-out ever, only turned on our oven for special occasions and looked young enough to be my big sister. Her bottle blond hair, 5'8" frame and Farrah Faucset good looks were the only positive comments I got from boys through most of my tween years. We laughed, worked and played as a team and life was a strange dichotomy of great and miserable. I hid my dive-bombing self esteem, bruises from being pushed into lockers and planted my emotions in an alternate universe, books.

I was called my first expletive in writing. Scrawled on a note and shoved in my locker, the word screamed at me. A few weeks later, one of the ringleaders held my face in the snow. I walked to my first class drenched in a mixture of tears, snow and sweat. I told my teacher I fell. She called my mother. I told mom I fell.

Gum was consistently found in my books, locker and even my hair. Name calling was after every class bell and I tried to shrink into oblivion. I was reading 6-8 books a week, both at school and home, anything to forget I was me. I was arriving at school as the last bell was ringing and hiding in the locker room during lunch. The more anti-social I became, the less banter I had to tolerate in between school bells.

I stopped talking all together second semester of my 6th grade year. I correctly answered the exact date the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor during history class and a combination spit ball and "dumb a***" followed. I tanked the test. By mid-semester, I was failing almost all of my classes. The principal called my parents.

I don't remember the incident, but it was so bad a big sister of a girl in my class broke it up outside school, brought me home and told my parents everything. They cried. I enrolled in a new school the next week. The wall against true sisterhood had structure. Four years later, I'd return to this same school and confront all these issues again.
Maybe I'll go there next week, but today my soul is raw from remembrance.

Show more sisterly love today.

Even if she doesn't deserve it.

She probably needs it the most.

Book Review: Passport Through Darkness

2011-07-01T15:07:00.002-05:00

It is not uncommon for me to read through a book rather quickly.

If I can scrape together enough free time

and ignore the laundry,

I can read quickly.

Not the case with my most recent selection.

The writing was brilliant.

The story was griping, tragic and beautiful.

But the subject matter was difficult.

There were times when I wanted to turn away.

Close the book.

Ignore the pain that was inside of it.

But I couldn't.

Passport through Darkness is Kimberly L. Smith's story of

how she and her family personally experienced and were drawn

into a world of combating human trafficking and

helping protect the planet's most vulnerable victims.

Together with her spouse, Kimberly started

Make Way Partners, a non profit

built to protect those to which other organizations and ministries say

"No Way." "Too expensive." "Not worth the risk."

You cannot read this book without

calling out to God and asking Him

how to break your heart so that your life might make a difference.

I've linked you to the Amazon page so all you have to do is go buy it.

So that we may fight for freedom for everyone,

not just those of us who buy fireworks for a day in July.

He promised rain.

2011-06-28T20:32:00.003-05:00

I've been working on a project for over a year now.

It's been inspiring, beautiful and at all times, God-defined.

Since the beginning, this project was in His plan.

He dreamed it,

orchestrated it,

and been patient while I fretted about it.

Lately, the entire project is coming to a screeching halt.

Over a technical difficulty.

I've had to place this project in the hands of others.

The difficulty is above my area of expertise.

I keep going back to God in prayer.

"Is this what you want?"

"Did I hear you right the first time?"

"Maybe I wasn't listening quite right."

I was reading this morning in 1 Kings.

Where Elijah takes on the 400 prophets of Baal at Mt. Carmel.

It's one of those stand up and cheer moments of the Bible.

Drought in the land.

Pagan gods.

False prophets.

Two rams on two alters.

Elijah taunting the prophets of Baal because Baal sends no fire.

And at one request by Elijah, he praises God's name and fire falls from heaven

God consumes His alter in flames.

WHOA!

Elijah must have felt like quite the spiritual champion of the day.

But if you go back and read the first verse in Chapter 18,

God promised rain.

Not fire.

Right after the Baal prophets are defeated,

in verse 41, Elijah tells King Ahab to go feast and drink

"for there is the sound of a heavy rain."

As Ahab is headed off to party,

Elijah returns to the mountain to pray.

As he is praying, he informs his servant to go to the sea and look for rain.

The servant returns with nothing.

"Seven times Elijah said, 'Go back'" 1Kings 18:43

Really? Seven times.

I think after the first time I would begin to whine a little.

I wonder if Elijah was silently pleading with God,

reminding Him of that rain He promised.

I know I have been pleading.

A LOT lately.

Too much.

I know that my project is where it needs to be.

That God is who He is no matter where I am.

And how little my faith has been.

The story of Elijah on Mt. Carmel ends like this:

"The seventh time the servant reported,

'A cloud as small as a man's hand is rising from the sea.'"

Elijah informs the servant to run to Ahab,

have Ahab hitch up his chariot

before the rain stops him."

Immediately, in verse 45:

"Meanwhile, the sky grew black with clouds,

the wind rose,

a heavy rain came on

and Ahab rode off to Jezreel.

The power of the Lord came upon Elijah

and tucking his cloak into his belt,

he ran ahead of Ahab

all the way to Jezreel."

Now I'm going to have to wait 'til heaven to ask Elijah

which was a more awesome moment.

Either watching fire fall from heaven

or by beating a man in a chariot while running on foot.

But for now, I'm off to pray for my project.

And remind God that He promised rain.

Women Wednesday: Fear

2011-06-22T09:04:00.005-05:00

Ephesians 4:1-2 "...I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love."

I'm already regretting writing these posts.

As I sit here praying over why,

I already know the answer.

Fear.

There.

I said it.

I'm scared.

Afraid of offending someone,

saying the wrong thing,

or simply not conveying what I want to say.

Give me a task, a job, a complex legal issue, advocating for a client;

add solid research, coffee and a forum for debate;

and I'm alive.

It's the lifeblood of who I am.

It's the cape I wrap around my shoulders in order to hide the insecurities;

the achievement badge that adorns my life's sash of meritorious attributes.

While I fail at almost everything else, being at my place,

in God's universe,

making succinct data of the chaos is salve to my heart.

And reminds me that at least, here,

I am not a total failure.

And for the rest of who I am, hope to be and was in the future,

it's covered in caution tape.

Because there is fear.

I think it is the best lie that the Devil ever spun.

He can apply it to so many things with us, ladies.

With his snarky laugh he reminds us

You won't be friends if she knows _____________ about you.

She'll never understand that you don't have it all together.

Don't be yourself, just follow everything that she does.

Blah. Blah.Blah.

Excuse.

And it keeps us from each other.

From growing and learning through one another.

And we know better.

I'm reading Blue Like Jazz by Don Miller.

There is a scene where Don moves into a house with 6 dudes to experience community.

I cringed while I read, because being locked in a house

with 6 other women might as well be torture for me.

No thanks, I'll take Water boarding for 200 Alex.

Why?

Fear.

Fear of being judged, unliked, not having it all together or knowing that the facade that you have sewn is just a cape your wrap around yourself to hide your insecurities.

I think the older we get, the more activities our children have

and the more "stuff" we pack in our days, we lose the ability to smile to the mom in the car pool line, ask our daycare worker how today REALLY was or seek out a woman we know could use an ear and a cup of coffee.

I think that while Don's experience in Blue Like Jazz is a great example of community,

I don't believe community is only experienced in our houses.

I think it's experienced in our hearts.

So why do I fear letting a girlfriend really know me?

My top three would have to be:

1.) Having someone know how guilty I feel certain days for being a working mom.

2.) Sharing that I struggle daily to follow Christ.

3.) Discovering how true community might shake me from my comfortable cape of selfishness.

So here's to putting aside the fear, and getting messy with one another.

I encourage you this week to put aside the fear of engaging in a new relationship this week and re-set that coffee date (Layla, name the time and place), stop just a little longer to talk and seek community with a fellow sister.

Reveal #1 and A Winner!

2011-06-21T09:30:00.004-05:00

Trust us.

We were as surprised as you guys.

The Hero and I had always assumed that our next adoption

would look just like our first.

A set.

Siblings.

Two.

Imagine our surprise when there was only

set of eyes staring at us from that waiting child list.

One story.

One heartache.

One child waiting for a family.

And one family...

praying,

searching,

dreaming

of more kids.

It's why we hesitated.

Backed up even.

Questioned God's whisper.

Are you sure?
There's only one.

Were you not calling us to more?

I love that about loving Jesus.

Sometimes He just lets us think we've got it figured out,

only to softly laugh when His plans change.

And then steer our hearts in alignment with His plan

While we were planning on two more,

since the beginning of time He knew for now

there was just:

So with our first reveal done,

we are excited to share with you a small

piece of the puzzle.

And looking forward to sharing with you some more in the weeks to come.

Alison, from Lovin Much blog was our winner

of the LoPa "Worth the Wait" tee.

Alison, go to this post, pick out size and color

and email me and I'll get in the mail.

The rest of you, head over to this post and

order up your own "Worth the Wait" tees.

Come back real soon, and we'll start another contest for another piece of the puzzle.

What do you want to know more:

The Country from where we are adopting?

If it's a boy or a girl?

Orphan Care Ain't Just For Mamas!

2011-06-17T09:16:00.003-05:00

You might think that a post before Father's Day would be about my father or the father of my children. This one isn't. This one is about Big Tom.

Most of you reading this are women. That's not a sexist statement; it's a fact. I read a lot of emails from many of you who wonder about getting your man involved in care of the fatherless or simply adoption. For many of you, I don't have a lot of answers. The Hero was ready to have kids and I knew that God had placed a desire to love whatever munchkins entered our home; no matter how they got there, but then God reminded me of Big Tom.

In December of 2009, our church signed on to partner with Children's HopeChest to sponsor what we thought would be one care point in Uganda. Through several meetings and planning sessions, we were advised that there were three care points totalling over 500 kids that needed sponsorship in the area we were looking at sponsoring.

Our home church is not a large church. Signing on for 500 individual sponsorships and fundraising for three separate care points would be no easy feat. That's usually how God likes it, I think. It's when He gets to display His glory in full force. He did. Eighteen months later, God has funded through Westmoore Community Church a feeding program for our 500 sponsored kiddos and fully funded three separate community buildings where the kids can eat inside and our feeding program coordinators can cook in a more sanitary environment.

Children's HopeChest encourages each partnering organization to travel at least once a year to visit their care point and assess the progress for accountability and for maintaining a relationships in Uganda. Our first team left in May of 2010 for Ngariam, Uganda and we'll send our sixth team in August of this year. Big Tom has been on at least four of those missions.

Big Tom was a greeter at WCC when The Hero and I first started attending there about four years ago. I'm not sure if this was a title he gave himself or if he was actually on the Welcoming Committee, but each Sunday we saw him, he smiled, shook our hands and thanked us for coming. When our sponsorship of Ngariam, Uganda began, Tom sponsored two kids that first Sunday and signed up for our first missions trip. The Hero and I were travelling in March to pick up The Dinosaur and The Angel and wouldn't make the Ugandan mission trip. I told him I expected a full report.

He came back and almost immediately started talking about moving there. As the months progressed, while The Angel and The Dinosaur would scream and run and beg Big Tom to throw them in the air, I was learning from team members that the children of Ngariam were doing the same thing and that Big Tom was becoming quite the legend in Uganda amongst the kids.

Whether it was running after a soccer ball, checking on a invalid child or serving a meal, everyone in Ngariam was falling in love with Big Tom and he was smitten right back. As he and I talked, I asked him how a single man could have fallen so hard for kids on the other side of the globe, he just grinned and then showed me some pictures and told me about the kids and their stories; JUST like any bio dad would. He told me again he was going to move there and run his U.S. based business from Uganda.

Last month, Big Tom left to live in the village of Ngariam to oversee the construction of WCC's three care points, help oversee some of the schools in our area, help establish a feeding program for additional kids in the area who are unsponsored and learn about Ugandan farming. His plan is to stay three months and return to give us a status report, check on his business and eventually create a dual continent existence.

At night when we say our prayers, The Angel will mention Big Tom and ask God to watch over him. Her favorite prayer for him is "God, keep Tom safe in Africa, because God, Tom LOVES Africa."

Happy Father's Day Big Tom! We miss you and love seeing that caring for the least of these ain't just for mamas!

If you want to follow along with Big Tom's journey in Uganda, he blogs here.

My Crazy Adoption Blog Guest Post

2011-06-16T10:50:00.003-05:00

So excited that when Kari from My Crazy Adoption Blog put out requests for guest bloggers while she is in Uganda and that she chose ME! My blog post appears today on her site. You can go here and read it.

Women Wednesdays

2011-06-15T18:18:00.004-05:00

I don't think God "talks" to me. I've known and heard about Him talking to other people, but not me. He pushes, urges me through His word, nudges me and then there are the slaps in the face. Those are usually the things that I'm reminded of again and again until it eats me to the core and I can't stop thinking about it.

For about the last year, I've been feeling pushed to approach my phobia of women and female relationships in general here on my blog. It grows stronger and stronger with each blog post I write and as I sit thinking about each next blog post, the topic looms over me. And I feel Him pushing me outside my comfort zone. Him asking me to put my issues and fears and insecurities aside and just trust Him. And Him alone.

So each Wednesday for awhile, I'll be posting my thoughts about misconceptions, stereotypes and issues that we women face together, separate, how the enemy uses those to his advantage and what the good Lord is teaching me about such things. I'm calling it Women Wednesdays. If you have topics that you want to discuss or approach in prayer, leave a comment or send me an email. I don't want this to be the complaining post, but a place where we learn more about community with one another and individually toward Jesus.

I hope that you'll join me. Maybe together we will grow a little deeper and learn a little something about one another, ourselves and all of the in between.

Remember to vote on the tab to the right. Our next adoption is a waiting child(ren) and we are giving a giveaway for the first weeks/months of our journey. We'll reveal a little more about our waiting child(ren) each week until we've told you as much as we can. This week we are voting on how many children we are bringing into our home. Leave a comment and then vote and we'll draw next week and the winner will receive a "Worth the Wait" shirt of our remaining inventory.

So?

2011-06-13T19:25:00.007-05:00

After being in Ethiopia and seeing how many older children, special needs and sibling groups languish in orphanages waiting to be adopted, the Hero and I knew that our next adoption would only be from an agency's waiting child list.

About seven months ago, we started signing up again for adoption agency's waiting child lists. We didn't even consider starting the process another way. In November, we began applying for a specific sibling group through foster care here in Oklahoma. We were almost done with our paperwork when our social worker let us know that the siblings had been adopted.

In January, we fell in love with a little girl in China who was about two years older than The Angel. The agency advocating for her would not consider placing her in our home because it would be out of birth order. We researched countries, agencies, requirements and scoured waiting child lists from tens of agencies. I received a CD from an agency and fell in love with a fifteen year old boy. His circumstances changed several weeks before we called about him and he was no longer available. I briefly inquired about some of the other children on the CD with the worker and she stated that she would send me an additional DVD with children specific information, including health reports, videos and photographs.

She advised me that this country was known for being long, expensive and completely unpredictable. She stated the process would take us at least two years from start to finish. I don't think that she was trying to scare us off, only giving us the facts, but after about fifteen minutes, I reassured her that adoption was not our first rodeo and I don't scare easily.

I almost forgot about it until a month or so ago a CD arrived in the mail. It had been sent to the wrong address. It was full of videos, health reports, pictures and information. I sat and cried. I waited two days before I showed it to The Hero. He said only one thing "let's do it." We waited three more days before we showed it to The Angel. She was ecstatic. There were several health concerns to consider so we decided to pray about it some more. We stopped talking about it as a family.

Until two weeks ago, The Angel stomped into the room, put her hands on her hips and looked at me "Are we going to adopt __________________ or not?"
I laughed. I told her we were still praying about it. She said she thought we should. She has a way of getting what she wants around here.

So here we are.

I don't mean to torture you, but since it looks like we are going to be doing this for awhile, we thought we would at least make it at bit more interesting. So this week, we are putting up our own poll and inviting you to help us pass the time by learning a little bit more each week about our newest addition(s). From now until next week, you can vote for how many children we are currently in the process for. All you have to do is click your vote to the right and then leave a comment. We'll randomly draw names from the comments next Monday night and the winner will receive a free "Worth the Wait" shirt in either an adult or children's size. We'll do a similar game until we've revealed as much as we can about our new adoption. We appreciate you guys following along this second time around and we can't wait to show them/her/him to you one day.

If you guys can't wait to get your hands on your own Worth the Wait tee, go back to this post and read how to get one of your own. Our LoPa Art team left today and they need some money to buy some more fabulous Ethiopian art to bring back to you all. Also, LoPa launched its blog today and our family was the first partner's family to be highlighted. We were honored.

Worth The Wait

2011-06-08T17:29:00.008-05:00

A lot of adoption news in the community has been hard news lately. Court delays, slow downs, investigations, "on hold" are never good things to hear. But as adoptive moms and advocates for setting the lonely in families, we at LoPa Art know that those precious kiddos currently smearing jelly over our walls and fighting with their siblings were two things: God-timed and Worth the Wait.

We recently travelled to several shows with our art and our t-shirts and they were HUGE hits. Since we are gearing up for our annual shopping in trip to Ethiopia next week, we need to clear out some inventory. Here is where the special for you guys come in.

Our Worth The Wait shirts come in both adult and children's sizes. For only a few days, we are offering our shirts for $20, which includes tax and shipping. I've attached the list of our remaining inventory. All we ask is that you send us an email at lopa3moms at gmail dot com and tell us what shirts you want. You can paypal the amount to our account and we'll pop your shirts in the mail before we skip over the ocean for a month. If you order more than two shirts, please include an additional $2 per shirt to cover shipping. Not only will we be able to continue to support LoPa artisans, but we'll also continue to help our partnership agency with their feeding program in Korah.

Remember to check our inventory list at the bottom of this post and I'll update them until they are all gone.

Is our model not the cutest preggie mommy ever?

Adult Shirts:

Pink with yellow-
Xs-1
Lg-1

Blue with yellow-
M-3
L- 3
XXL-1

Charcoal with yellow-
S-1
M-2
L-1
XL-1
XXL-1

Charcoal with green-
S-1
M-2
L-2
XL-2

Charcoal with purple-
S-1
M-2
L-2

Putty with purple-

M-3
L-2
XXL-1

Children Sizes:

Pink with yellow-
S-2
M-1
L-2

Lime green with purple-
M-1
L-2

Putty with green-
M-3
L-3
XL-1

Blue with yellow-
M-1
L-4
XL-2

Brown with yellow-
XS-1
S-2
M-3
L-3
XL-2

My Favorite Day Ever

2011-06-06T17:59:00.004-05:00

Saturday, The Angel turned Seven.

I wonder how old she is in Angel years?

Since I don't know what a biological child experience is like,

all I have to go on is the here and now with The Angel and The Dinosaur.

There are days that I stare at her face and I wonder if she

even knows the depth of how much I admire her.

For her strength,

her laugh,

her outlook on everything,

and her ability to grieve for what she's lost

and still enjoy the present.

I am honored to share a house,

a life,

a love

with such a fighter.

I despise kid's birthday parties.

The planning,

the expense,

the expectation of outdoing the other moms on the block.

The unnecessary buying of gifts that you know will be returned

or never played with more than once.

Please hear me:

I LOVE BIRTHDAYS.

The cake.

The ice cream.

The singing.

The celebration of one's life.

An entire day about being selfish.

I want to teach my kids how to celebrate,

without the gluttony of entitlement and stuff.

We talked to The Angel a lot about what she wanted.

She only had three requests.

Dinner, with her entire family.

A new bike.

And everyone singing happy birthday

Loud.

Just for her.

We gathered everyone together.

The Hero and I bought her a new bike.

I covered our house in balloons

and pink and yellow streamers.

She got a new "sparkly" tank top

and new shorts.

We all sang Happy Birthday.

Twice.

Just for good measure.

We ordered her favorite cupcakes.

And made her favorite dinner.

And the grandparents overdid it with gifts.

Again.

The Hero built a bonfire.

We made smores in the backyard,

sat around the fire

and relished in the glow of her face.

As she "snuggied" in my lap

and I stroked her hair,

She smiled and told me

"Mommy, I didn't have a birthday in Africa."

"I know sweet heart."

"But mommy, it's ok. Because today is my favorite day ever."

"It is?"

"No. I guess not. Every day is my favorite day ever."

Dear Angel,

Thank you for being a daily reminder

of strength,

beauty,

love

and opening my eyes to the fact

that each day

should be my favorite day ever.

And as long as you are a part of it,

it will be.

Just for Tonight!

2011-06-03T21:49:00.003-05:00

School is out.

Summer has begun.

The Angel turns 7 tomorrow.

And she has a brand new bike in the garage.

But none of these did we celebrate tonight.

Tonight, we celebrate for the one(s) who come(s) next.

The newest addition(s) to our family.

Over the past months,

We've inquired about several.

Prayed about many.

Scoured waiting lists for siblings,

older children,

special needs children

and felt our hearts be tugged,

pulled

and stretched.

But today, we filled out paperwork for _______?

There will be plenty of time for questions,

all of which we will answer.

But not tonight.

Tonight, just join us in knowing

That the Andrews' clan is growing.

And we think that is a ROCKIN' thing to celebrate tonight.

Without Fail

2011-06-01T22:29:00.002-05:00

My kids adore my sister and brother in law.

They came home the first week we were home from Ethiopia.

The Dinosaur was captivated with Brian from the first day.

He even made up a song about him as he fell asleep in Brian's arms.

It went like this:

"Papa Chu.

Paaaaaapa Chu.

Papa Chuuuuuuuuu."

To this day, none of us know what Papa Chu means.

But the nickname stuck.

The Dinosaur has no clue Brian has another name.

He had such a hard time saying Laura,

she has been forever relegated to the name LaLa.

At every meal, every night time prayer, my son opens up the prayer.

He bows his head and says three words.

"Papa Chu,

LaLa"

Laura thought I was kidding that he prayed so consistently

and without fail only for them,

until I started recording him.

And calling her during meal times with the phone so

The Dino couldn't see it.

AND...making my mom a witness when she's with us for dinner.

He is so devoted to it that even when Brian and Laura travel home,

and are WITH us during dinner

and nighttime prayers,

He STILL prays for them.

I think Laura believes me now.

A month ago, we took the kids on a small road trip.

To a place in the northern part of the State.

And found this adorable little church inside Har-Ber Village.

At the front of the church was a prayer bench.

The kids wanted to know what it was used for and how.

The Hero explained to them how to kneel and speak to God.

The Dinosaur only had three words.

"Papa Chu,

Lala."

I was bawling.

I made him go back and do it again.

Because I knew Laura would never believe me.

That even in the middle of vacation,

whenever my son calls out to God,

he only has three words.

2011-05-29T22:10:00.002-05:00

My mother's side of the family is consistent, normal; nurses, farmers, firemen, and land owners. Beautiful really, but the people with the craziness and the ridiculous stories is my father's family. Gamblers, hell-raisers and overall lovers of life, stories about them always left me slack-jawed and wide-eyed when I was a kid. With it being Memorial Day, I thought about one of my favorite Willis family legends.

My great-grandfather, Harry fell over drunk in a rose bush in the front yard of a woman who only discovered him because he wouldn't stop singing. She later married him and bore him three sons, one of whom was my grandfather. Harry's drinking was legendary, so was my great-grandmother's church attendance at the local Baptist church. Harry would be coming in from a night or a weekend of bar-hopping while Mattie had spent the same amount of time or more at church, on her knees that Harry would come to his senses. She was consistently pleading that God would provide a way for Harry to sober up.

She thought the oldest of her boys being drafted into the United States Army not long after Pearl Harbor would be enough. She was wrong. When their middle son was drafted not six months later, Harry's time inside a bottle only increased, as did Mattie's time in church. But when my grandfather, the baby, was drafted only a few months after both the older boys, Harry met Mattie on the porch of their house as she arrived home from church. For the first time in a long time, he was sober.

He only had one question: "Mattie. Is your God big enough to bring all three of my sons home from war alive?"

She only gave one answer "Of course He is Harry. Of course He is."

Now I've heard that you're not supposed to make deals with God, but apparently, my great-grandfather was clueless. He told Mattie to go back to church and tell her God that if He would bring all three boys home safely, he would never drink another drop.

Four years later, one after another, each of the boys came home. Safely.
And Harry kept his promise. He never drank again.
At he and Mattie's 50th wedding anniversary, someone offered him a margarita. He laughed and refused. All he said was "He kept His end of the bargain...I'm not going against mine."

I only remember meeting Harry a few times. He died when I was just a child. As we celebrate those who've gone before us this weekend, I am reminded that I have an ever-growing list of who I can't wait to talk to in Heaven. Harry is definitely at the top of the list.

Bacon Make You Feel Better?

2011-05-26T21:52:00.003-05:00

Today was hard.

You know the type.

Words are snippy.

Attitudes are haughty.

Open disobedience abounds.

And that was just Mommy's day at the office.

The Angel has had a spell of lying lately.

It's completely out of character.

As I tucked she and The Dinosaur into bed tonight,

We talked about lying.

Why it's not good.

Why it makes it hard for Mommy to trust her.

Why it makes it hard on everyone when she lies.

She cried.

I cried.

We prayed.

She prayed to recognize the truth and own it.

I prayed to provide grace.

Even when she fails.

Just like my Father does for me.

The Dinosaur watched in amazement from his bed.

Still.

Through the talking.

Not a word.

Through the praying.

Just stares.

Until The Angel started crying again.

"Hey {Angel} bacon make you feel better?"

I thought he mispronounced a word.

I asked him to repeat.

"I ask {Angel} if bacon make her feel better?"

I almost fell off the bed laughing.

So did the Angel.

I asked the Dinosaur if bacon made him feel better.

"No. Why?"