Who Cares?

In 2013, my family sold all our stuff in America to embark on a life in The Philippines, the country of my husband's birth.

That life was to be  committed to serving children in orphanages who have visual impairments or blindness.
We had an organization of sorts, that committed to helping us raise our support. We had some money of our own to help us get started and we had a good working knowledge of the country's orphanage system as we had already adopted from The Philippines four times prior to our "big move".
But we were not prepared.
We were not prepared for the ministry God had already expertly carved out for us. And it was not with visually-impaired children.  It was the most unlikely, under-served, cast-aside group  that we have since come to love with all of our beings.

STREET BOYS

We were led into this ministry in the most unusual way.  Every Saturday, we would drive to the orphanages where we were already serving a child or two, pick up the children and bring them to our home for a day of classes that included academic tutoring, Bible study, a healthy meal, art and physical education.  Many Saturdays, after the long drive, we would stop at McDonald's for a treat after the last child was dropped back off at his orphanage. At McDonald's, we noticed many dirty, loud, seemingly "high" boys in the parking lot begging or helping to park cars (guiding them and expecting a few pesos in return).  One day, my husband invited three of them inside for lunch. One was a much older boy living as a girl. He was wearing very short shorts, a little bit of makeup and jewelry clearly intended for a female. He was with two younger boys.  Not only did we invite them in, we talked to them about their lives. We asked where they slept and how they made the money they needed to buy food.  They were very open with us. Shockingly open.
Open enough to break my heart in a million pieces and make me wish I had a shelter to invite them into on the spot.

That was very naive thinking on my part. I now know you can't just walk around inviting children off the street to come and live in a shelter but, at that time, I just felt a fire light in my heart for these boys. And that fire didn't die. It only grew as we passed more and more street children and began to really NOTICE them. It exploded in me as we visited a government shelter that rounds up these children periodically. We started to look for them everywhere we went.  We began to talk to them. Buy their lunch. Ask about their hopes and dreams for the future. Ask what they wanted to be when they grew up.
The saddest revelation of all . . . not one of the children we asked could come up with a single thing he wanted to BE.
Ask any American child what he wants to be when he grows up. You will get answers like "a doctor", "an astronaut" or "a ballerina".  They have a dreams. Goals.
Ask a Filipino street child and you get stared at like you have three heads!
Who has time to think about what he wants to BE with a first-grade education and what-will-I-eat-today on the brain?

Now, ask that same child how much he can cash in a kilo of scrap metal or plastic for and you'll have a conversation! Ask him which restaurants give out their leftovers at the end of the day and, watch him brighten up!
For us, that was  just unacceptable. For us as parents, as Believers in Jesus Christ and simply as human beings, the life these boys were living was not okay.
So, we contacted our local Department Of Social Welfare and Development to find out what we needed to do in order to open our own shelter for street children. We contacted our initial sending organization and shared our passion with them for these street boys and were informed we'd need to part ways. And it was with much stress and some fear that Mercy House was born.

One of the biggest discouragements as we set off to reach these boys came from a well-meaning friend who is very wise in terms of fund raising. We knew we would have to raise our own funds as we no longer had a sending organization. This friend said to us "it's easy to fund raise if you have babies and girls in your care. People love to donate to babies and girls. But older boys? It's going to be an uphill battle."

I believed her.

She has experience in this arena.  I felt like we were doomed but, as long as our own initial funds held up, maybe we could help a few street boys turn their lives around, expose them to the gospel and do a little "good" before we had to go back to the US, tails between our legs, and start our lives over.

 Because WHO CARES about street boys? They are dirty, rude, spend their days bugging local vendors, sniffing solvent from plastic bottles to get high, committing theft and vandalism, peeing in public, cursing at each other loudly while patrons try to enter and exit stores and restaurants.
They have often been put into government shelters (from which they run away at first opportunity), been involved in sexual crimes - either as victims or perpetrators, and been rejected again and again by their families and then by the public that surrounds them. There is a nickname for them here that translates to "fog boys" because they just hang around pointlessly.
They are an annoyance here as you can't stop at a stop light without some of them washing your car windows and expecting payment, whether you wanted your windows washed or not.

So, WHO CARES about boys like this? They aren't little anymore. They should take responsibility for their own choices!  Maybe they LIKE living on the street!
Who cares?  God cares.  He loves these boys. He made them for a purpose. He gave them life and has a plan for them.   They may not be tiny, helpless babies but they are just children in so many ways.
When we bring them into our center, we get to see, up close and personal, how they shift from "thug" to "child" in a very short time.

We get to watch a miracle each time a street boy comes in and begins to submit to our authority, come to us for help, let us meet his needs, TRUST us to be kind and take care of him! We are privileged to watch their disbelief and then understanding as we teach them that God loves them and that their lives can be a testimony of redemption.  That they were made with a PURPOSE.
Three years into this ministry. It still hasn't gotten "old".  We are revived with each new admission.
We are astounded every time a child, who has been his own "boss" for so long, accepts discipline and correction without running away or lashing back.   We are humbled when one of them expresses a desire to have his sins forgiven and start a new life as a follower of Jesus.

And getting to baptize a child whom we once fed on the street!!! There are few joys that compare!

We have found, underneath all the problems and poor adult choices and petty crimes, lies a precious child who longs to redeem some lost years. He wants to play with action figures, draw and paint, be tucked in at night, have his cuts and scrapes bandaged and just be a child.

So, if you live where they do, and  you see a street boy, take a minute. Talk to him. Ask him what he wants to be. Ask him why he's working instead of going to school. You will definitely be surprised at HIS surprise.

Because people usually don't. They just keep moving. It's only "fog".

More Than A Street Child

Just a week ago, we received a new client at Mercy House.  He's a lovely boy of 11 years. We fed him on the street several times and he was always polite, appreciative and pretty shy. His name is "MJ".
He drew my heart toward him once when we were doing wound care in the street. A very sick young man was being treated and, while we were treating him, he was asking us for money. MJ kicked his foot and told him in Tagalog "you don't ask people for money when they are already helping you".
And that stuck.
I could not forget that small comment.
It said more than those words I heard.
It said "I have a sense of right and wrong". 

Feeding "MJ" at McDonald's with his tropa (MJ in stripes) 

 So, imagine our reaction when we brought some American visitors to the government shelter for street kids just THREE DAYS after this McDonald's feeding and saw MJ at the shelter. He had been picked up by the city's task force that is assigned to take children off the street. When we saw each other at the shelter, he began to smile and then he hung his head in mock embarrassment, as if to say "they caught me".    We had devotion time with the children there and acted out the story of David and Goliath. MJ was chosen to play Goliath. He stood on a stool and played the part with gusto.
When it was time for Goliath to "die", he kicked his legs in the air and had a fake seizure. The children watching were in stitches.
Just a week later, we pulled into McDonald's again for visit with  the street children who congregate there and, lo and behold, MJ was in the street again. He ran from us and hid around the corner of the building. We went to him and asked why he was hiding. He said he was afraid we were going to take him back to the government shelter or that we would tell on him. We promised we wouldn't do either and brought him some lunch. I wanted to ask  him that very day to come with us and be admitted to Mercy House but my social worker was not available and I wanted to make sure we did it "right", so we said our goodbyes and  left him. My heart was heavy but I was glad he had a good lunch and some clean water to drink. 
The next week, we returned to the government shelter to have a sibling visit for one of our clients, and there was MJ AGAIN!  This time, I was determined not to say goodbye without a plan. So we counseled him on the spot about his willingness to come to us. We talked to him about going to school, having a family setting, getting off the streets for good, giving up sniffing solvent and a host of other things he would need to consider, even at just 11 years old, before he could come to Mercy House.   The biggest request we had of him is that he NOT run away from the shelter for a whole week. We made an appointment to see him a week later. When we returned seven days later. He was there. Waiting. With a big smile and saying he was READY.
So, on October 1st, we were ready too and he became a part of the Mercy House family.

Admission Day at Mercy House 

Admission Day meeting/introduction/orientation

The usual protocol for us when we receive children from the street is to admit them, help them get settled in with an orientation about the rules, an introduction to all staff and housemates and then, when we feel like they are comfortable, we start unraveling their histories, a little bit at a time to find out if there are any capable relatives around who have been looking for these children.
What we found in the case of MJ was a lot more than we bargained for.

His father is in jail. We took MJ to visit him. He loves his father and he began to cry when he saw his father from far off.  But his father will likely never be able to parent him again due to the seriousness of his charges and the time he will serve.  MJ does not want to believe this. He has built a fantasy around his father that does not include a true picture of the man.

We then located his mother and found a homeless woman who often roams around but sometimes lives for free in a public building. She struggles with her own poor life choices and tries to care for several children who decided not to become street children as MJ did. One of them is a 14 year old girl who is extremely ill.

Mj's "big" sister. Please pray for her healing!

When my social worker sent me a brief message and photo during her counseling time with the family of MJ, my heart just broke. I immediately thought of contacting my friend, Claire Henderson, who runs a beautiful ministry to sick and dying children here in The Philippines called "Children's Recovery Unit" or "Helping Hands".  I sent Claire this photo and the diagnosis the mother was given and asked for her input. Her input was one of the most beautiful messages I have read in a long time. It was along the lines of "I will take her in our home in Baguio as well as her drug-addicted mother if she is willing".
Can you imagine???? I was simply asking for advice as this is waaaaayyyy out of our league.
So, we have made plans to transfer this mother and child to CRU for a stay where we are asking you to pray for a few things.
First, for the mother's addiction to drugs to be broken. She told us she has not used them for a time. We cautiously hope she is being honest.
Second, for this beautiful girl to be healed of her illness. If not healed, that her pain can be well managed and her quality of life drastically improved.
Third, through Mercy House and CRU, that this family would be introduced to the love of Jesus and the complete healing of heart and soul that only comes through HIM.
In our ministry,  we are aware that serving a street child is not just serving a street child. It is serving his family, helping him connect the dots of his broken life, finding every family member who has ever loved him, opening doors to hopeful reunification and, after exhausting all avenues locally, exploring the option of a brand new family.  Serving our kids involves partnership with other organizations who are strong where we are weak.  It involves being willing to drive many hours sometimes to obtain help and just trusting the Lord with the outcome.
Because MJ matters so very much. He is a beautiful boy created in the image of God.  There is a plan and a purpose for MJ.
HE IS MORE THAN A STREET CHILD.  So much more . . .

"If We Are The Body . . ."

The title of this blog post is taken from a Christian song by the same name, written by Mark Hall for Casting Crowns sometime around 2002.   You may remember the chorus, that says something along the lines of . . .

AND IF WE ARE THE BODY, 

WHY AREN'T HIS ARMS REACHING?

WHY AREN'T HIS HANDS HEALING?

WHY AREN'T HIS WORDS TEACHING?

I heard it for the first time "back in the day" and,  frankly, was annoyed by it.  I thought it was too cynical. I felt like maybe the writer was talking about his own church, but not MINE.   I felt sad that the people most convicted by it would likely be the ones pouring themselves out for the lost and yet, feeling that they aren't doing enough.

I am now singing this song right along with my youtube Casting Crowns video (with lyrics, of course) and asking if we, all of us, even me, really ARE doing all we can in the body of Christ?  And if we are, why am I staring eyeball to eyeball with SO many orphans every single day?

And on top of that gripping frustration, I have an overwhelming fear. . .

THAT ORPHANS ARE THE NEW 'CAR ALARMS' OF THE CHURCH

What do I mean by that?   Do you remember how, in the "old days", when a car alarm would sound, everyone would look, wonder and react?  Now-a-days, we don't even turn around in a crowded parking lot to see who's car alarm is sounding.

Is the plight of the orphan going the way of the car alarm?   We used to be moved to tears by the faces of the children in orphanages. We used to step out in faith to open our homes to children who we knew might be damaged beyond our parenting skill set.  We did this without enough money, enough room or enough bunk beds . . . but we did it because they were there and we are blessed.  We did this in spite of the fact that our own biological progeny might have to step aside for awhile and get over themselves.   

And some of you still are.  I fear your numbers are shrinking as you are still redeeming, serving, opening . BUT . . .

In walks "orphan care", telling us that adoption is not for everyone and if we just box up our old clothes and shoes and mail them to Haiti or Guatemala or The Philippines, we have fulfilled James 1:27 because we're "looking after orphans".  And we ARE!  We, on the front lines, do not want you to stop participating in orphan care.  Adoption is NOT right for every family.  But I believe it is right for many who are running the other way because it's expensive and messy and so unbelievably risky.

WHY has our beloved adoption agency in the states (www.christianadopt.org) had such a hard time finding families for just 12 children slated to come to the US for summer hosting?   WHY does a beautiful 12 year old boy in my Saturday class not have a long line of families hoping to adopt him? Or even a couple?

Is it because consciences are assuaged by "orphan care"?  How better to "care" for an orphan than to be the ones to remove that stigma and make him a "son" ?  What shows MORE love of humanity than calling her "daughter" who was once rejected?  

Let me assure you of a few things if you decide that God is calling your family to serve orphans in this way:

1. You WILL bite off more than you can chew

2. You WILL question your decision a thousand times after your child comes home

3. Your life WILL get exponentially harder when you bring a once-abandoned child into a loving home

4. Your biological children WILL suffer in some ways - but grow and flourish in others

5. You WILL want to find the blog writer who pushed you over the edge toward adoption and have a few words with her (ha ha)

6. You MIGHT have to make decisions about whether keeping your new child is worth it. And you will be unlikely to ever face such dark, painful choices in life again

7. You MIGHT struggle to encourage others to adopt because it's so darn hard, but you'll look at your child and realize adoption is a good thing.  And you'll still encourage others

8. You MIGHT find that blessings come in unexpected ways and your own walk with Christ EXPLODES with "realness" as you walk the path of an adoptive parent.

9. You MIGHT lean on your spouse more than you ever have before, and strengthen that marriage in new ways

10. You MIGHT understand concepts like selflessness, going above and beyond, faking it until you make it, putting your own needs way down the priority list and "growing" into love rather than having it thrust upon you.

But never forget, that He who has called you is faithful.  He is oh, so faithful, friends!  He pays for what He orders, He gives us our daily bread, He makes us more than we thought we could be for the sake of His great name and His own glory.  Some of these things, I am sure I never would have known up close if it had not been for our adoptions - both the smooth ones and especially the bumpy ones. 

I know that, personally, I have so far to go in knowing Him and in fulfilling the responsibility He has given us toward orphans. 

So far,  I have barely stepped foot onto the path. 

How about YOU?  Are you called and running?  Are you certain you are among those for whom adoption is not the right path? Do you even know what His word says about Believers and Orphans?  There's a free adoption Bible study at the web site of Home For Good Foundation (www.hfgf.org) that might set your feet toward whatever God has for you.   No matter where He leads, my prayer is that your are always moved to reach out.  That orphans are NOT the car alarm in your church and in your life.

They are real, living, breathing children who long to be claimed.  They wait, growing a little older each day and understanding a little more fully their plights.

Consider it, my friends.  Ponder it.  Seek and Ask.  Be intentional.

Most of all, do not fear . . . 

 

 

 

Nothing to Be Afraid Of

For many months, I have been alluding to  big changes in our family. I have shared the fact that we plan to move to The Philippines and into orphan ministry but have been deliberately quiet about the details.

Mainly because we wanted to be 100% certain this was HIM and not US.
And because our organization's web site had to be prepared and tweaked before I could share it with anyone.
And because I would NEVER want to put something out there that people may feel led to support financially until I am sure it is what it claims to be, the doctrine behind the organization is square and they are good stewards in every way.

So, it is finally time for me to share the details of the project God is calling us to.

Our name? The Bartimaeus Project  (Mark 10:46-52)
 
Headquarters? Littlestown, Pennsylvania

Our "Job"? Traveling to various orphanages to work with visually-impaired children, evaluate them for possible hosting in the US for free surgery and (hopefully) a chance to find their "forever families".

When Will We Leave?  Lord willing, by March or April 2013

Where Will We Live? In a rental home somewhere around Metro Manila . . .yet to be determined.

Will the Whole Family Go?  Yes, even our high school graduate! We are thrilled!!!!!!!

How do you feel about such a big move?  I'm excited, scared (they have such BIG BUGS, BIG RATS and we will not use air conditioning in our home there -electricity is 3X the cost there as in the US).We have a lot to get used to.  Mostly, I CAN NOT WAIT!!!!! When God calls, the desire to obey Him over rides any fear or hesitation.  The fears are there but they pale in comparison to the chance to walk in the full life that He is offering.

When will you come back?  We don't know. Maybe a year, maybe never.  We are planning to rent out our house and not sell but that is mostly so our children can have the $ someday.

What do you need?
We need prayers most!! We also need many, many Believers to partner with us financially to accomplish this BIG THING. You will feel a part of something wonderful, I promise! And the Lord blesses gifts given in His name to work much for His kingdom.  His economy defies logic sometimes but always leaves me grateful I gave.

Right now, the organization is conducting a "Red Envelope Challenge". Basically, you go the web site, click on "Red Envelope" and pick an envelope (they are numbered 1-500).  Whatever number is on the envelope, that is how much you donate. You can choose #22, #4 or #500 . . . whatever you feel you can do!  Please take the challenge!!!!!

Next, we need families to partner with us monthly to keep us afloat while we are in the field. Even a small monthly donation is effective. Money goes much father in The Philippines and resources like food and medicine can be purchased so inexpensively.  

Finally, we need friends to champion our cause.  Will you spread the word? Will you consider talking about us on Facebook? To your church leadership? In whatever sphere of influence God has given you? 

You can find us at : www.bartimaeusproject.org


Help us help children . . . for the sake of good news of Jesus!

A Slice of Life

I seriously need to update the pics on the sidebar. I was noticing that yesterday.
I'll get to it. It's on "THE LIST" . . .but for now, let me share some brand new pics of these gorgeous, funny, awesome people (and pets) God has given me:

We call these pics "Ghetto Wolf Lodge" . . . who needs 30 foot waterslides when you have a large tarp, a hose and some suave shampoo???

Our beautiful daughter!

Lem's 14th Birthday! That sweet kid let little brother blow out his candles!!!

Oldest son, his good friend/prom date (for the second year in a row) and our lovely daughter . . . aaaah to be young and carefree again . . .

Red Skies in the Morning, Sailors Warning

James 4:17
So whoever knows the right thing to do and fails to do it, for him it is sin.


More choppy waters on the home front. And a safe harbor at the end of the day.

Our struggling son has ONE ally in this house. ONE person who he has not injured, lied to or worn out to the point of weariness. Our newest son.
Newest Son is a Godsend for so many reasons. He not only brings extra light, life and cheer to this home but he was perceptive enough to know right away that our struggling son has "issues" and he shared with me that he feels like he can be a good influence on Struggling Brother. He has been. He is.

But last night, Struggling Brother blew it.

(side note)
Our home is structured like most Filipino homes. Our younger children are expected to show respect and obedience toward their older siblings. The older siblings are expected to be kind leaders who put the needs of the younger children before their own. Our younger kids have to call the olders "Kuya" (big brother) or "Ate" (big sister). Is is a family structure that has been in place since our first kids were born and I love the way it plays out. Our kids do NOT hit one another. Our younger children have NEVER said to an older sibling "you're not the boss of me" or "I don't have to listen to YOU! YOU'RE not my father/mother". The olders are, in fact, the "boss of you" and you DO have to listen.
Likewise, we don't see cruelty from your olders to our youngers. It's a structure I would never have known had I not married into it and it's one more reason I'm so HAPPY to be married to my Filipino hubby!Well, that and the incredible food his culture has brought into my life (can somebody pass the pancit, please?).
(end side note)

Struggling Son walks into the room where New Son is playing an NBA video game and says "I want to play". New Son says "I'm in the middle of my game. You can play next". Struggling Son says rudely "I PAID FOR THAT GAME" and proceeds to plug in a controller and pause the game on New Son.
New Son shows great restraint in putting down his controller, saying "here, have it" and leaving the room.
Struggling Son says "sorry, sorry, sorry" over and over as he realizes he's about to get into trouble.
New Son keeps walking, goes to his room to cool off (well done!).

Struggling Son, my great saboteur and self isolator was in need of putting a chasm between himself and New Son, who has been a great friend to him.
It hurt me to see this play out. It hurt me for both boys. I went upstairs to talk to New Son first. He was very understanding. He said "I see how it is with him and I always try to help him but NOW I see why nobody wants to spend time with him."
Sad but insightful. And true. But still mostly sad.

I go into Struggling Son's room next to talk through what he did, why he feels he did it and how he can now fix it. He GREATLY over reacts and ends up telling me that he doesn't want to be close to me. He will be out of the house soon and he's fine if he and I don't have a relationship. I did NOT make this event about he and I. He did. Everything always comes back to me and him in his mind. It's the "mother part" of Reactive Attachment Disorder. I'm paying for the sins of others. I think I always will. I hope not but I think so.

Struggling Son pouts for awhile but, hey', it's "Fun Friday" and we always watch a movie as a family and have popcorn and/or ice cream. Struggling Son comes out to watch the movie but refuses the food. Apparently, he doesn't need anything from US. He sits in a bean bag chair he has slid as far from the rest of us as possible. It's a small house. He can't go far. But he's here. That's progress.

We watch "Tangled" and it ends at about 9pm - still early for a "Fun Friday" so we decide to Netflix "Mars Needs Moms". It's a little dark for kids and pretty odd but we didn't pay extra for it so I eat my havarti and crackers while we watch.
Immediately, the child in the movie gets into trouble and tells his mother he doesn't need her! He tells her he wishes he didn't have a mom! A tear slips down mom's cheek as she gently shuts his bedroom door.

I hear a sniffle that is NOT coming from the television.
Struggling Son is all teary on his bean bag.

By the end of the movie (spoiler here . . . ), the son is clinging to his mother and telling her how much he needs and loves her. He talks about how she tucks him in at night and feeds him. How she vacuums the house and bandages his cuts. How she washes his clothes and cheers at his soccer games . . . gulp. . .

Struggling Son is in the bean bag and is now wrecked. He is trying to sob silently but not all that successful in said endeavor. The occasional wet snort reverbs around the room.

The lights are all off. The room is dark.

I make eye contact with hubby and slightly shake my head. Hubby is NOT to mention what is taking place. None of us do.
We leave this muscular almost 14 year old, sporting his faux hawk, with a little dignity. We wait until he pulls himself together to turn on the light. He makes a bee line for the bathroom where the nose blowing commences.

I go to my room and wait.
I hear him trying to find me and the slightest little "tap tap" on my door.

He comes in and when he sees me, the water works begin again. Apologies. Forgiveness. It's over. Again.

And so goes it with such a tough and yet fragile child.

I do love him so very much. Sometimes the love gets caught up in the circumstances and swept way like debris in a fisherman's net. But then some connection of his ability to hurt with words will float to the surface and it looks like a buoy in the storm. He's GETTING IT! I do believe he's getting it.
And it scares him so much that he lashes out. And our whole family thinks "here we go again" and some of us wish, secretly and not so secretly, that he was just passing through. And the visit was winding down.
But that's not what our Heavenly Father called us to.
We met him in that psyche hospital. We prayed to our sovereign God to show us how far we were required to go and our loving, all-knowing, always-good Father said
"all the way".
Those are facts that can not disputed. Not then. Not now.

We have to keep on keeping on so the name of our Savior is made to count for something in this little household, among our friends, in our church, hopefully even in the blog community.

We want to make a mark.

We just want all of this to matter. For now and for eternity.

Missing It

This morning, I sit and type, thinking about the great day ahead for our Christmas Eve. We have a communion service at church. We come home, have a devotion and open gifts with our children. Historically, we travel to my parent's home on Christmas day so that is why we began the "presents on Christmas Eve" tradition. Practically speaking, it eliminates being woken up at 5am by eager children!
But if I hear one more comment about Christmas being "all about family" or "just about being together", I may just have to pierce my own eardrums with a knitting needle.

We are going to be with our families. It is pleasant to be with them (theoretically, anyway - ha ha) but Christmas is not about that cozy, fuzzy feeling obtained when familiar people get together, eat, and trade presents.

Christmas is about the God who created the universe willingly putting on a body of flesh, submitting to be born and agreeing that the painful death awaiting him at the end of his short 33 years was worth the outcome. Christmas signifies the first step in the redemption of a fallen world. Christmas is God, extending His hand to us, mending a broken relationship, curing our spiritual disease and claiming us as His own. Christmas is the falling of the first domino in mankind's victory over sin. Christmas changed the world FOREVER.
We no longer have to sacrifice animals to have our sins forgiven.
We no longer have to communicate with God through a priest.
We no longer have to live under the law, that only condemns but can not save.
We can have PEACE WITH GOD.
We can have complete forgiveness of sins.
We can have assurance of our eternity spent with Him, enjoying His presence forever!

These things were not free. They are free to us but they cost the Holy, Perfect Creator His very life's blood.

Your forgiveness, my forgiveness. It cost a life. A perfect life. God came to pay a debt He did not owe, and it was no small bill.

Let's not trivialize these next few days by focusing on the holly-jolly-tinsel-wrapped-mistletoe-pie-in-the-oven kind of sentiments.

ENJOY CHRISTMAS!
But let each element serve to remind you of the high price paid for you and for me.
BE JOYFUL!
But let that joy come from knowing that God loves you enough to come walk this Earth and ultimately die to cover your sins. And mine.
EMBRACE YOUR FAMILY!
But do not miss the fact that Jesus loves them even more than you do and wants to have a personal relationship with each member!

Please don't miss it! Please don't have a counterfeit Christmas!

Emmanuel, GOD is WITH US!!!!

Bonding - The Flap and the Facts

In the adoption world, much is made of the concept of "bonding". Children who are not bonding with their new families in the allotted length of time (usually 6 months) are suspected of having attachment disorder. Parents who do not feel a strong bond to their newly adopted children immediately often become terrified and wonder "what if we DON'T BOND?". Parents who struggle to feel bonded to their new child in the first month or two often assume their adoption is doomed to failure and begin considering disrupting the adoption for fear that a lack of bonding is the kiss of death. I am here to tell you that bonding is important but it is not the only glue that holds an adoptive family together.
Let me tell you straight: I am firmly bonded with three of our four adopted children. Two of them came to us in diapers and I have been up to my elbows in their . . .um . . . excrement and not batted an eye. I could not do that for a neighbor's child or even a niece or nephew. Only for one of my own. Just a couple of weeks ago, our newest son got a stomach virus. I knelt beside him and rubbed his back as cup o noodles poured from every orifice. Not only was I NOT grossed out, I felt only pity for his illness and barely noticed the splashage on my night shirt. Yup . . . he's mine.
Those of you who have been around this blog for awhile know the struggles we've had with our thirteen year old. He came to us at age eight and has put us through the ringer with lying, sneaking, disobeying and hurting other children. He came home from residential treatment last May after a 7-month placement. He is not attached to us and THAT IS OKAY. I am parenting a child who does not really love me. AND THAT IS OKAY, TOO. I am here to tell you that it can be done! Attaching in adoption is beautiful but it is not mandatory for a successful placement.
We recently visited a friend's church and a sweet young man from the youth group came and introduced himself to my teens. He invited them to come and sit with him. All of my teens refused except . . . you guessed it . . . my little RADish. He left us in the back of the church without even looking behind. He is no more outgoing than my other children. He is no more social. He just does not prefer our family to other people - in public or in private. When you read a narrative of a child who is waiting for a family and that narrative says "little Johnny has never met a stranger . . . " you can bet dollars to doughnuts that little Johnny has attachment issues. I used to believe that Reactive Attachment Disorder was a ruse. I thought that psychologists made it up in order to sell books and keep their client lists long. BOY, WAS I WRONG! I have no doubt that our son has a significant attachment disorder. He interacts with us as if he's reading from a script. He is not genuine but his words say the right things. When he hurts someone, he is contrite but his eyes are hard. He tries to give his toys away to kids he just met but then is stingy and greedy with family members or close friends of the family. He compliments strangers about their shoes, cars or physical appearances in an odd cadence and during our church's greeting time, he hugs visitors but stands stiffly if a family member extends their arms. Trust me, he is not suffering from mal treatment in our home. He does not recoil because we have hurt him in some way. He just does not like to be close with us - physically or emotionally.
Recently we were able to start a skype relationship with his older brother who still lives in The Philippines. I once asked Lemuel if he wanted to see if his big brother remembers their mom and dad. He could not, for the life of him, figure out why he should care about his birth family. He knows his birthmom is deceased but he said flatly "I don't want to know anything about that stuff" and went on to put his ear buds in and crank up his mp3 player. I could fill at least ten lengthy blog posts with evidence that our son is not securely bonded to us or to anyone.
He cares little about his past. He does not want to keep ties with former caregivers or orphanage mates. He is happy to see them if the opportunity arises but he never asks. He has a biological brother in the same state we live in and I have reminded him often that he can call or see his brother any time he wishes. He simply says "okay" but never pursues contact. Take my word for it. This child has all the textbook symptoms of RAD except that he does not set fires, does not treat his "mother figure" with contempt and does not have sexual deviance issues. He has been with us for more than FIVE YEARS and has never shown genuine sympathy, remorse or unsolicited affection. . . NEVER. I think you get the point. He isn't very bonded to us. He's happy to have a place to call "home". He likes my cooking and he lives for his birthday and Christmas when he gets lots of cool "stuff". He likes "stuff" an awful lot. He found a way to get a football team mate to get him some very nice Nike cleats and I still don't have the facts straight on that story. I'm sure he painted us as some sort of derelict parents who only shop at yard sales and could never buy new cleats - to be honest, I don't really care to chase that bunny down the trail anyway. He has besmirched our reputation countless times. We are growing immune to besmirchism.
Even as I type, he sits in the livingroom eating popcorn and watching "Mr. Bean" with two of his siblings. He is laughing his head off and having a blast. He HAS TO LIVE SOMEWHERE and I have been blessed with three precious adopted sons and two amazing biological children who truly love me. They all think the sun shines out of my . . . um . . . "eyes" and so, I can muddle through with one child who does not follow suit.
Is it difficult parenting an unattached child?
Absolutely! If he was my first child or if he was my only child, I would be devastated. If he was violent or sexually inappropriate with anyone under this roof, I would disrupt the adoption but he is neither. He is just a broken little boy who, for self preservation, decided early on that he could count on no one but himself. And that is how he lives his life.
How does his attachment problem play out in everyday life?
First, he needs to be supervised 100% of his waking hours. If he is not supervised, he plays waaaay too roughly with younger children. He steals on occasion. He is loud mouthed and obnoxious. He has a "me first" attitude to the Nth degree - and no amount of training, punishing or guilting has freed him from these habits. He is addicted to video games and will literally shed tears over lost games but he is remiss to cry over a flesh and blood person he has hurt. He eats to the point of feeling sick if he is not watched. He puts others down verbally. He tells lies about our family that paint us in a less-than-favorable light.
Would you do it all over again if you knew then what you know now?
No. I would not. Not with this child. It's like asking a person if he would choose to have an amputation without anesthesia. It hurts incredibly. It changes life in ways that nobody would choose but I know it's "right" that he's here. I know that God is sovereign and HE put that boy in our house for the duration of his childhood. He needs to be trained and guided and shown the love of Christ to have even a snowball's chance in hell of having some semblance of a normal adulthood. We've been charged with the task and we must rise to it.
/Why didn't you disrupt the adoption early on when things were so bad?
We didn't disrupt because God placed him in our home and we never felt free to change the arrangement. We had no peace about disrupting. We did not believe that a new family would somehow be able to show him how to attach. We believed, and still do believe, that sending him from our home would just start a chain reaction of multiple placements that would reinforce his innate sense of self preservation.
What if he reads this post?
He won't care. I let him read the post about adoption disruption that featured his life story. He could not have cared less. I wanted to get his permission to publish it because it was so very personal. I shared with him that it could help people to understand some things about adoption. He asked me if I would add something that tells how good he is at football and how he's not scared to fight even if the other guy is bigger than he is.
How do YOU feel about him, really?
Honestly, sometimes it really sucks parenting an unattached child. There's a lot of "give" on my part and a ton of "take" on his. I believe that when he is older he'll leave us for a better deal and may not even keep in touch. That's sad. It's hard to invest in someone when the pay off is miniscule. It's hard to keep tending to the daily needs of a child who casts aspersions behind your back. It's also very freeing. My goals are different with this child than with the five others. I hope to help him learn a little empathy for others so he does not hurt people who want to be close to him. I teach him to fear the law so he does not end up incarcerated. I stress to him the love that Jesus has for him and that it is NOT conditional upon him feeling "warm fuzzy feelings" toward God. We are on a very basic track with him. I know that our other five children will have more "normal" lives. I know there will be weddings and grandchildren (oh, I long for those grandchildren!!!!) and job decisions and that they will call home to my husband and I for advice on life-altering decisions. I know they will. I know Lem won't.
I realize it sounds like I have completely eschewed God's ability to heal. I used to pray for Lem's healing and his bonding a hundred times a day. Five years later, I believe it's time to take another approach. I remain open to and hopeful for God's miraculous hand but realistically, we need to plan for the "what if he never attaches to us". That seems to be the eventuality.
Forgive me if this post sounds dismal. It is meant to encourage! We have a joyous, full, happy family life. There are so many fun times, so much physical affection, so many games, sports and chores together that we treasure and enjoy. Every child, Lem included, is here for a reason. Every life is precious to God and He is refining and shaping us all. It's just that with Lem, his heart is off limits to the rest of us and we have to rely on Jesus to get in there and touch the places that we will not be allowed to go near.
If WE can do it, YOU can do it! So your adopted child doesn't open up to you, tell you with sincerity how much he loves you . . . sometimes knowing he would if he could has to be enough. It has to be.

"Update" . . . yawn . . .

I've been holding off on blogging for a while in hopes that our new family pictures would be ready for the posting. They aren't. They haven't even been taken yet. We keep planning to take family pictures and then some appointment, commitment or unexpected "thing" cuts in line. I am hoping in the next week we will get those pictures taken. I am bothered by the huge portrait that hangs over my couch and contains neither Ezekiel nor Francis. That picture is not my family . . . it's only part of my family. I am even more aware that the five close up pictures that line our stairwell are an incomplete set. It seems tolerable to have a picture missing two children but when just one is missing from a grouping, it seems almost "mean". . . I know I'm waaaay over analyzing this photo thing but, hey, that's the way my mind works these days.
There isn't much news to report that would be of interest to those outside this family but things are changing around here. My husband sold his Harley yesterday. My oldest son sold his leopard gecko and I registered Francis and Elliana for an upcoming driver's education class! In a few months THREE of my children -exactly half- will be driving on either a permit or a license! I am going to be spending more time in prayer than ever when that happens.
We have been homeschooling for exactly two days now and it feels good to have a routine again. Everyone feels purposeful and it is obvious. The lazy feel of our home has given way to a structured, forward motion. Chores are done early, students are at the table with books, computers and pencils. I am circulating the room, Ezekiel on my hip, answering questions and checking assignments. I am going to miss this someday. I am keenly aware that, no matter how many times we adopt, at some point this phase of life will end. I will not have a bustling house full of kids to teach, train and enjoy. I suppose I should be looking forward to that time and planning a Disney trip - or something- with my husband (and Ezekiel - ha ha) but I can not even fathom it yet. I don't want this to end. I LOVE my life. I love my tiny house with too few bathrooms and mismatched interior doors. I love the fact that we fill the 8 passenger van when we go out as a family and there's no more room. I love the rulers, pencils, dried markers and broken crayons that litter my counter top on weekdays and I love how the washer and dryer are always in use, whether by me or one of my teens. I love the way the trash has to be dumped twice a day sometimes and the fact that my top dresser drawer is full on unmatched socks of all sizes and colors, waiting for me to have time to sit and find pairs. I love being called "mom" by voices in all stages of puberty - pre, mid and post - and knowing who's voice it is without ever having to look. THIS is what I was created for. To mother, educate, raise, reach out to, accept and cherish these people - to blur the line between "biological" and "adopted" in such a way that nobody wishes he was one and not the other. I pray for strength to live this life with excellence, knowing that the Lord has given me a calling too high to attain on my own. I just can't do it apart from Jesus. And isn't that just the way it should be? Anything we can tackle easily on our own strength is likely NOT our calling.

"God calls the unqualified to do the unimaginable through His power, that is immeasurable, in a world that is unreachable apart from Him who is unchangeable".
Author Unknown

On The Road Again

We just returned from a road trip that took us from North Carolina to the heartland of America, Nebraska. I was born in Omaha and both of my parents have family there.
I have a precious 90 year old grandmother who is battling cancer (and winning!) and plenty of aunts, uncles and cousins in Nebraska that I would love to know better. We had a wonderful time swimming, eating, playing cards and just sitting and chatting. We put about 2400 miles on our mini van and visited at least 20 rest areas on this little jaunt. I have to admit I was a little apprehensive about traveling with Ezekiel. He is two and he does not love the car seat. He actually did surprisingly well and didn't actually "melt down" until about 9pm last night (we arrived home around 10:30 so imagine what the 9:00-10:30pm segment of the trip consisted of . . . wwwaaahhhhh!!).
Between the snacks, DVD, frequent restroom stops, books and toys we carted along, everyone survived the drive and dare I say, some may have actually ENJOYED it? I know I did. It provided lots of time to just sit, pray, think and talk to my husband - all things I generally neglect on a "normal" busy day around the house.

One of the most delightful parts of the trip was meeting a cousin who, until just a few years ago, I didn't know existed. She was given up for adoption by my uncle and his then girlfriend just about two years before I was born. She found her birthparents (my uncle and his ex-wife) through the placing agency and they reconnected. I had so many questions that I wanted to ask an adult adoptee. I tried to prioritize them so as not to overwhelm or monopolize her but the biggest question I wanted answered is "do you think it was for the best that you were placed for adoption?". She graciously answered that it was absolutely for the best. She knows her birthparents were young and unprepared and she was adopted by a loving family who longed for her. I know every person is different and some may resent being adopted while others may feel "incomplete" until they meet their birth family.
I don't know what impressions my boys will have about their "life before me" but I can only pray that as they grow and mature, they have the wise perspective of my cousin and the understanding that adoption represents the ultimate act of love, first by a birthparent and then by adoptive parents.