It takes a village

Twenty-eight thousand dollars.  
That's what it will cost to ransom the next little life that we are waiting to welcome into our family.  Maybe most people have that sitting around and don't know what to do with it, but we didn't.  
But we knew what God was putting on our hearts to do, and so we began to work towards that big number: we sold our camper, we hoarded the income tax return, we had a garage sale... 
And as we did whatever we could, God began to work in bigger ways.  He put it on our hearts to host a silent auction fundraiser and information night at our church - it would raise money for our adoption process while we tried to share the needs of orphans around the world.
Then Wolfgang Schaefer and the Ironfist Taekwondo Club held a kick-a-thon fundraiser for us, and overwhelmed us with their hard work and generosity.  

And we've felt so grateful, and are excited to see the "adoption account" numbers rising.  We know God is showing us that He will provide for what He's leading us to do.

And now we have been invited to participate in the first Winkler Mother's Day Craft & Gift Show.  Shirley and Rebecca, the organizers have been crazy considerate of us!  They have asked us to serve a lunch, provided ideas for how and what to serve, and offered us the sole role of selling baked goods and snacks.  Then they offered me a craft table in a great location in the building, so I could sell my hand work and have further funds to put towards this adoption.  I'm humbled by their thoughtfulness and desire to see us succeed at this fundraiser.

So here's a sneak peek at what will be going on May 10 (Saturday) from 9:30 till 4:30 at The Bunker:
All sorts of donated AMAZINGLY yummy home baked goods, along with coffee, pop or water.  For lunch we will be serving a bowl of chili, a fresh homemade bun, and a drink for only $7.  Everybody is welcome!

And here's some of the hand work I'll be selling at our table, with all proceeds going towards our adoption expenses:

We can't say thank you enough to everyone that has joined this journey so far!  And there have been so many people willing to bring baking and chili on Saturday that I am blown away - we have been so supported all along this adoption process, and we are eagerly waiting to show a picture of our next child as soon as we get a referral!

Your family is here and yet you're somewhere else alone

This past Christmas we weren't yet sharing our precious news of a new baby somewhere in China. But privately I ached.

Where was this little one, away across the sea?  Was she being treasured and celebrated?  Was he hungry or cold?  Did any one come in the night to comfort her if she cried?  Was there someone to hold him in their arms and love him while I am waiting?

Then I found this blog post - I follow this blog, having found that the writer adopted their little girl from in the same city that we picked up our Bronwyn.  And when I arrived at the civil affairs office in Xi'an I found the room looked familiar, and the friendly orphanage director looked familiar, and I realized God had shown me months before through Kelly Raudenbush's blog where we would meet our daughter. It was familiar at a time when nothing else was.

When I couldn't even pull my scattered thoughts together to write coherently, I found something that expressed my heart better than I could myself.  A post from Kelly's own waiting days - the Christmas before they went to pick up their daughter.

"It’s a strange feeling this year, knowing that we have a daughter somewhere and she is not home with us. The only comfort in that is knowing that it is our last Christmas without her and the fact that we know that God is near to her and to all of the children who are without parents. May He hold her today for us and whisper in her ear that she is loved."

There’s a little girl trembling on a cold December morn,

Crying for mama’s arms

At an orphanage just outside a little China town

There the forgotten are

But half a world away, I hang the stockings by the fire

And dream about the day when I can finally call you mine

It’s Christmas time again, but you’re not home

Your family is here and yet you’re somewhere else alone

And so tonight, I pray that God will come and hold you in his arms

And tell you from my heart, I wish you Merry Christmas

As I hang the tinsel on the tree and watch the twinkling lights

I’m warmed by the fire’s glow

Outside the children tumble in a wonderland of white,

Make angels in the snow

But half a world away, you try your best to fight the tears

And hope that heaven’s angels come to carry you here

It’s Christmas time again, but you’re not home

Your family is here and yet you’re somewhere else alone

And so tonight, I pray that God will come and hold you in his arms

And tell you from my heart, I wish you Merry Christmas

Christmas is a time to celebrate the holy child

And we celebrate His perfect gift of love

He came to earth to give his life

And prepare a place for us

So we could have a home with him above

It’s Christmas time again and now you’re home

Your family is here so you will never be alone

So tonight before you go to sleep, I’ll hold you in my arms

And I’ll tell you from my heart, and I’ll tell you from my heart

I wish you Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas by Third Day

Here we go again!

I knew it before we did it last time.

Dean knew it before we even overcame jetlag from our first journey.

God knew it from the beginning of time. 
    Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you.  Jeremiah 1:5
    For he chose us in him before the creation of the world.  Ephesians 1:4

"Why do you do it?"  
"What made you decide to adopt?"  
From the somewhat derogatory tones to the truly curious, we've been asked those two questions more times than I can count. 
The answer is more complicated and way more simple than is easily shared: God told us to.  37 times.  37 times in God's Word it commands us to look after the widows and orphans and foreigners.  So it wasn't a question of "should we?"  so much as "how should we?"  And for us it's to welcome a child into our arms and hearts forever.

Step by somewhat reluctant step I've been led into this world of orphans - and the stories and needs have changed me.  I want to block the sites that I so easily joined - stop seeing the constant broken little faces that show up in my email and on my facebook every day. Someone's advocating for one more little one.  
This one's about to age out - be sent to live on the streets because she's 14 and too old for institutional care.  
Another one has cuts and bruises from a rough environment and even rougher nannies.  He is 7 and weighs 24 pounds.
A little boy is covered in black birthmarks - nobody wants him.  All the world seems to be looking at the outward appearance, forgetting that God looks at the heart.
A little girl with cerebral palsy will likely never walk, and has trouble speaking.  Her only real problem is being unwanted.

And my heart pounds and I'm afraid.  I don't know much of anything about special needs.  I have five children already, and I don't want to hurt them.  I don't know if we can provide for another little one.  Will I ever sleep through the night?  I'm too old - or at least that's what some tell me.  

Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress.   James 1:27

Father God so gently nudges.  Quietly asks.  My spirit nods - I'm learning to trust that He is good and He might ask me to do hard things, but never anything that will hurt me or my family.  One small nod, and Holy Spirit bursts within me a passion for a child I've never met.  He creates within me the desire to mother another one.  

On Saturday, March 29th we are holding a silent auction to invite friends and family and anyone else to join us on this journey.  The introvert in me has had a hard time with this.  This is my secret.  I want to do this myself - just Dean and I and the kids.  But again I nod and excitement grows to share our news and invite others into our joy.

Bidding begins at 7p.m. at Christian Life Centre.   Everyone is welcome to come and bid on tables of wonderful donations.  Coffee (Jonny's Java!!) and desserts will be available, as well as two other ways to partner with us.  

A Chinese auction ( I love that it's called that:) table will hold a variety of other donations. Tickets can be purchased and put towards any of these items, with a draw being held at the end of the evening.  

Another table will be covered in red envelopes.  Each envelope has a dollar amount written on it, and all the envelopes tally up to $5150.

Money raised from any of these events will go towards adoption costs (specifically the international agency fee for registration and translation, as well as the China government dossier authentication process.)  

Except the money from the red envelope table.  When we go to pick up our child, an orphanage donation must be paid.  This is meant to cover the nutritional, physical and medical costs of our child up to that point, as well as go towards the care of other children that will be staying at the institution.  Each province dictates the exact amount - which usually lands between $5000 and $5500.  Any money that is donated via red envelope will go towards these orphanage costs.

Do we know if we are getting a boy or a girl?  No.

Do we know if he/she will have a missing limb, or a cleft palate or downs syndrome?  No.

Do we know what this will look like every step of the way?  No.

Hillsong United expresses our hearts pretty well:

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders
Let me walk upon the waters
Wherever You would call me
Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander
And my faith will be made stronger
In the presence of my Savior
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dy9nwe9_xzw

“Safe?” said Mr. Beaver; “Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.” 
― C.S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

A dedication, a birthday celebration, and finally... our adoption story video

What a perfect day.

Today we had Bronwyn dedicated to God.

She wiggled and giggled her way through the whole thing - finding a ball under a nearby chair and throwing it across the front of the church.  

 She's decided she loves Pastor Weldon and went to him very willingly to smile at the congregation and then receive her blessing.

Today was also Grandpa's birthday and Pastor had the whole church sing to him.

Today is also the date that Bronwyn was taken into care in China, as well as a celebration of her birthday from two days ago.

We set up in the church hall and invited family and friends to celebrate the miracle and joy of Bronwyn.

I had a great idea for a cake in mind, but ran out of time and ended up making these caterpillars on short notice.  But they were still yummy.

Bronwyn found Mama right after the service and sat with her for the whole luncheon.  

Opening presents went over very well!  Bronwyn's most favorite part of all was yanking tissue paper out of gift bags and then belly-chuckling about it.

Without my Aunt Alvina this would never have happened.  She helped set up everything, prepare the food and then stayed to the very end to clean up.  What a blessing!  She allowed me to just enjoy our day with everyone. 

We are so very blessed with family and friends.  It's kind of overwhelming, really.

Dean made a beautiful video of our adoption story, and this is the link below:

Our adoption story

The way that you see

When I was a little girl I found people with glasses interesting.  I would ask why them wore them, and what things looked like if they took them off.  Once when I was quite small I remember literally pushing up close to another girl and imagining if I got my head right next to hers maybe I could see through her eyes - see what she was seeing.

That novelty has long worn off, since by the time I was 13 I was prescribed glasses of my own.  In fact Dean and I have a very similar prescription for our eye glasses.
But we see so differently, Dean and I.

When we used to grocery shop together I'd zoom up and down the aisles with my focus on my list in hand.  Dean would notice people who needed help reaching something, or someone that he knew from the community and would wave hello.  We would actually get into arguments over this.  Dean got embarrassed when I would get so single-minded that I literally drove into another lady's cart when careening around a corner.  I would get frustrated that he wasn't staying on task and helping me get this job done.  I saw my list and the amount of time I had to get it done, while Dean saw the people around us.

When we would go out together I would just see Dean.  I would want to hear what he had to say and watch his face.  I focused on him.  Dean would notice people coming in and out of the restaurant and wave to people or stop and chat with someone he knew.  

In many ways we've become more like one another in the last almost 2 decades together.  I am much more aware of the people God has put in my daily path - I try to see them as God sees them, and I ask Him if there's something I should say to someone.  And Dean is more goal-oriented, and now when we go out for dinner he pays more attention to us as a couple - to how we are connecting right then.

There is one area in which I'm so glad we see differently.  Very differently.
The way we see me.
I am blessed with a husband whose eyes see me as beautiful when I'm very often not.  
I don't have a problem with self-image...  seriously, I don't.  Some things are just facts: such as behavior can make you ugly, and there have been more times than I care to remember when Dean overlooked my bad attitude and impatience and chose to see the beautiful things about me.  
And another fact:  head colds make you ugly - even if just temporarily.  But here I am 5 days into a nasty sinus cold and my nose is raw, my lips are dry and I've used up all the tissues and almost all the toilet paper in the house.  My voice sounds like a combination of James Earl Jones and Piglet on helium.  
I had just laid out my glass of water, my bottle of decongestant, my lip balm and jar of vicks beside my bed.  I was hoping to just get through the night still breathing.  My throat was dry because I couldn't breath through my nose at all, and so I huffed and puffed out of breath and finally plopped into bed.  
Then Dean comes into the room, sits down on the bed and says, "You're so pretty."
What?
But the way he says it, I know he means it.  
Many times my husband seems to see what God sees, even if it doesn't make sense in the natural.

Just like I was so curious about what people with glasses really saw, how their eyes worked, so I wonder how God sees.  Once in a while I kind of get a glimpse into what God really sees, and how different it is from what we see in the natural.
A couple years ago I had the privilege of being at a conference in Calgary.  We were given the option of touring the Calgary Pregnancy Crisis Centre - an faith-based organization that provides loving care for individuals affected by a crisis pregnancy. 

 Around 75 of us women signed up for this tour, and were bused there early one morning.  We were forced to park around the corner and walk a few blocks.  I looked around me at all these women, most in high heels or some sensible loafer.  They all looked fairly ordinary, middle-aged, and quite harmless.  I heard the giggle and chatter of of all these feminine voices, and the clatter and click of all their shoes on the sidewalk.  

What a picture we must make, I thought! 
Who could know that these ladies all worked with troubled pregnant girls and their families?  Who could tell the hearts of compassion and the strong spirits that lived within these individuals who fought for redemption and healing along with their clients?  
Skirts billowed in the light breeze, and manicured fingers stroked curls back into place as we hurried along.

Suddenly I felt like my view morphed into something completely different.  
I saw rows of trained warriors.  I heard the incredibly loud rhythmic thunder of boots marching in unison.  I felt these women carrying a power and authority.  I saw an intimidating army. 
It was only for a few seconds, but what a memorable moment!  It's whetted my appetite to see more of what God sees.  What's really going on?  Beyond the natural, beyond the cultural norms and habits and routines - what's the immoveable truth about a situation?

And so I've been so fascinated with this song lately.  It's SO good!

YOU SEE by Jonathan David Helser

  I see a mountain          You see a miracle

I see a wasteland          You see a garden 

I see dry bones             You see an army

I see impossible

You see everything

I see a seed                 You see a harvest

I see the water             You see the wine

I see the broken           You see your body

I see my enemy

You see your footstool

You are I Am, but I’ve

Been so blind all this time

My God touch me, I want

To see the way that you sse

I see my sins               You sin your blood

I see a baby                You see a saviour

I see my failures           You see redemption

I see a beggar

You see a son

I see my father            You see your son

I see a shepherd           You see your lamb

I see my saviour           You see your joy

I see your eyes

Staring at mine

Rough places made smooth

One of my most used prayers as a mother is "Lord go before us.  Make the rough places smooth and the crooked places straight."  
I have long lost track of how many times I spoke those words as we journeyed through Bronwyn's adoption, and as we literally journeyed to China and back.  The part I love is how many times I have been excited/relieved/surprised when something worked out so unexpectedly:
~being matched with a social worker who had completed her own adoption of a little girl from China a few years previous to us
~being adopted ourselves for the remainder of our China-stay by a wonderful family picking up their 2 year old in the same province on the same day 
~making friends with a commercial pilot who talked me out of some of my flight fears while we were in China
~the amazingly beautiful work done by the plastic surgeon in China on Bronwyn's cleft lip (and we weren't even aware that she was going for surgery)
~the precious way each of our birth children have made room for Bronwyn in their heart - evidence of Holy Spirit working in ways we couldn't know would be so important

Bringing home a baby with a cleft palate has brought us all sorts of new education.  B could store rice up in her palate, sneeze it out an hour later, and use it as a secondary snack.  She could make the cutest burbling noises as she pointed to the interesting things in her new world. And since her sippy cups/bottles had to have larger holes (she couldn't suck) she loved to pour them out onto her tray and splatter-paint like any gifted abstract artist.

 We met our cranial-facial nurse and plastic surgeon shortly after arriving in Canada. How light-hearted and cheerful they are.  How professional and capable... they set this mother's heart right at ease.  God knew that I NEEDED to feel confident in these individuals.  

We met the geneticist next, as we explored a possible history for Bronwyn's cleft lip/palate.  Before he labeled her non-syndromic (that's a good thing), he commented that she was left by her birth parents because she was a girl, not because they may have wanted the best care for her special need.  I got a little snippy (that happens with moms) and as soon as we got to the truck I vented to Dean: "He may be a brilliant scientist, and I'm glad for people who do what he does.  BUT, he is NOT an attachment specialist, and he is NOT an expert on the culture of China or it's adoptee demographic.  God knew that I NEEDED to get my thick mom-of-a-special-need-child skin in place.  
(BTW, I think every child has some sort of special need.  A time for every single child when his/her mother should get thick skinned and demand from friends, family, the school system, the medical system, the government or what have you, exactly what that child needs.  It's called being an advocate for your child.  It's tough.  It's important.)

Next we got the call that Bronwyn's surgery had been bumped up - it was supposed to be today, October 17th.  Instead she was called in on September 24.  I took her in and  she was oh so patient and cheerful through several hours delay with no eating or drinking.  

5 minutes before her surgery began with plastic surgeon Dr. Ross, the ENT Dr. Jones came to see me in the waiting room.  Bronwyn wasn't schedule to see her till November, but since she was in the OR that day, she suggested she look at Bronwyn's ears and put in any T-tubes while she was already under anesthesia.  I quickly signed the paperwork.  God knew I NEEDED to not re-do a surgery experience for Bronwyn again in November. 

 

Bronwyn sat in a little ride-in car and I pushed her around  until the nurse took the handle and wheeled her into the OR.  Bronwyn never saw that she'd left me behind. I was told she was "under" in less than 2 minutes from leaving my side.  God knew I NEEDED to not have her remember me handing her to strangers.  I had brought this to Him on several occasions.  4 and 1/2 months ago two loving nannies took her to a strange place and held her out to me and walked away.  I wasn't willing to copy that experience for Bronwyn.  

Right after surgery Dr. Ross came to fill me in.  The left side of the palate was very minimal, and he didn't know if the repair would hold.  He worked hard for over 2 hours for a midline suture, and so the left side may not heal completely.  He cheerfully informed me that we could do the surgery again in just over a year when she had had some time to grow.  I promptly texted my pray-ers. 

Recovery was very rough.  I'm so very grateful to the individuals who have been willing to share these personal details of their stories on blogs and websites so that I could prepare myself as much as possible. Knowing that attachment setbacks are common after surgery, that I needed to push her attachment needs with the doctors, and that with a repair like hers the road was predicted to be rough - those things did help.  
Did I mention that recovery was very rough?  
In the pre-admit clinic I had been told that babies wake up angry from surgery.  I could handle that.  I've heard angry before.  I worked with angry before.  I've calmed angry before.  

Bronwyn was not angry when she woke up.  Pain didn't seem a major factor either - of course she was uncomfortable, but morphine is a good thing.   I cannot describe the sound of her cries - all 6 and a 1/2 hours of her cries.  She wailed.  She sounded grief-stricken.  She sounded traumatized.  
The rest of the details of those 24 hours after surgery are hers and mine.  They were very rough.  

But God.  I love that phrase. 
But God gifted us with such kind nurses.  Each one that stayed with us (Bronwyn was in a monitored bed the whole time) was patient, affirming of all my efforts to calm my little one.   Anything I mentioned from children's videos, to soothing music, to lights on/off... anything I mentioned a nurse was right there to try it.  And finally Lisette came on duty later that night.  I was leaning against the high bed, B's back to my chest as she sat and we rocked side to side.  This beautiful young Asian nurse slid in beside me, wrapped her arms around Bronwyn and continued the same rocking motion so I could slip away and sit down around the corner.  Slowly Bronwyn drifted off and I watched as nurse Lisette just continued to rock, and rock, and rock... 
God knew I NEEDED to see Bronwyn loved before I could leave her side. 

Friends with more foresight than I had, had offered to take all the other kids while I was away and even after Bronwyn and I came home.  What a blessing.  Finding home made soup in my garage when I got home from a quick trip to the pharmacy to fill B's prescription, the texts and phone calls that kept coming to ask how she was doing, the messages reminding us that people were praying for our little girl - these things were gifts from God too.  

A full week of beautiful fall weather gave us opportunity for many walks.  When Bronwyn woke up every day from her nap, she was inconsolable.  The wailing would begin, and nothing seemed to help except actually leaving the house.  I would snuggle her into the stroller and off we went: Mama's house, visiting Auntie's twins, wandering Main st. and fully exploring The Scrap Shoppe and Bible Book Store...  The very next week it turned cold and windy and I wondered, "What would I have done last week if it hadn't been so nice out?"  Sunny days at the end of September are a gift from God too. 

All along the way my attention keeps being turned to the Father as I say "Oh thank you!  What if that hadn't worked out so well - but You thought of everything!"

Each night as I rock B before putting her in her crib, I sing "God is so good", and then I pray for her.  Each night I prayed, "healing, health and complete restoration inside and out of this little body, soul and spirit."
Last week we had the post-op appointment with Dr. Ross.  Bronwyn screamed and clawed at my neck anytime anyone in a lab coat came near her.  After the weigh and measure and initial reporting, Dr. Ross came in.  Funny thing - he did a jig and she calmed down.  He looked in her mouth and I held my breath...

"Looks perfect.  Exactly what we want to see," he said over his shoulder to the student surgeon with him.  "We won't need to see her again unless other problems surface that we are unaware of at this time."  I don't know if that means the near future or ever.  I do know that I kept smiling and smiling.  
It's been almost a month since Bronwyn had her palatoplasty (cleft palate repair), and I really miss her little burble noises - I think that's a little weird, because I also feel like a kid on Christmas each time she tries out a new sound. 

God has made so many rough places smooth and crooked places straight.  Places I don't even know I need to pray into.  He has gone before us.  Wherever we end up, I find that He's already been there.