Nobody's Heroes

Just this week, our medical missionary and myself were called to  a small shack in our barangay at the end of a muddy road.

We were told there was a woman inside who was possibly demon possessed.   Now, don't get me wrong. I do believe the Bible teaches that people can, in fact, be possessed. But as an evangelical Christian, reformed theologically, who does not believe every sickness, lost wallet or bad day needs rebuking and binding, I was guarded and a tad nervous at the same time. 

What greeted us as we entered the small hut was a woman about 30 years old, bound by her hands and feet and almost non-responsive. 

When we sat her up and interviewed her caregiver, we discovered she has struggled with weeks of stomach issues, has a high fever, rapid pulse and heart rate, no appetite and pupils that were not responding to light. 

Our medical missionary, Brianna, was at a loss. We prayed for this young woman while holding her hand and surmised pretty quickly that she was not possessed . But she was extremely ill. Possibly dying. And something was going on with her brain. Was it swelling? Parasites? Infection? Encephalitis? 

Only a CT scan could tell us what was going on here and getting this woman, who does not bear her own weight on her legs anymore, out of the hut and into our car was a Herculean effort undertaken by our Administrator, Andrew, and one of our construction workers.  When we finally got her into the vehicle, she had to be sedated by our missionary with an injectable sedative because she became so agitated and combative.  Her weary caregiver, a close relative, was covered  with bruises and exhausted by the previous weeks' care for this woman.  Our hearts went out to her. 

The CT scan revealed some anomalies with the brain and we informed the family this young woman would need to be admitted to the hospital for an in depth blood chemistry. 

As Brianna consulted with physicians abroad, sending every test result and every observable symptom to them by text, we could see this family pulling away from us. 

When questioned about their willingness to let us admit this young woman, and assurances from us that her bills would not fall to them, they continued to hesitate. 

They confessed to us that this woman has an intense fear of hospitals and would not likely go freely. We offered to sedate and stay with her, to hold her and restrain her if needed. 

THEY REFUSED.

Yes, you read that correctly. The family refused additional treatment and took this gravely ill woman back to their hut - with no electricity, no running water and no cell phone.

                                                             And there she remains. 

We have no authority in this situation.  We have told the family that she may not live. Or she may not recover or improve at all. She may stay "like this" for the rest of her life, requiring around-the-clock care from an already over-taxed family. 

They Understand. 

And so, this blog post does not end with a "rescue", a "salvation" or a success story.  It ends with despair and confusion.  It ends with a reminder that we are not everyone's great, white hope.

We are just people.  With limited influence, a limited budget and finite powers. 

Just people. Not heroes. 

Just people. Not healers. 

We lean on the ever-present, endless reserves of our Heavenly Father.  He can.  If He wills. 

And if not, He is still good.

THIS, my friends, is the hardest part of ministry. Not the fund raising or the late nights or the discipline problems of the children in our care.

THIS!

The clear understanding that we can not help everyone all the time.  Sometimes they won't let us. Sometimes they don't want us to. 

Please pray for this young woman, and pray for her family and her main caregiver.  We ask the Lord to breathe LIFE into that family - body and spirit.  We pray that our caring touch of their daughter showed them something of the love of Jesus.  Prayer is more powerful than "doing".  

For that, we are grateful.  

Pray for Brianna, our missionary, and her reckoning with "we can't save them all".  If there is any demon in this ministry, that is Him. The accuser. The one that tries our souls with the reminder that "this one got away".    Or "that one ran away".   Or "you can do so little and the problems are so big." 

He is a liar. 

  

Welcome Home, Anak!

So . . . you're adopting a child from The Philippines who will be more than three years old when he comes home?

Let me share some wisdom with you that I pray will make the transition easier for all of you. 

You probably already know that The Philippines is a wonderful place from which to adopt.  The children in care here are generally in small orphanages (by worldwide standards) or foster homes.  They have most likely been loved by their caregivers and the staff turnover for caregivers here tends to be low.  It is highly possible that your child is leaving a place where he was well cared for and loved  in exchange for a life of permanency and inclusion into  your nuclear family.  

And this is SUCH a great thing!  Every child deserves to be claimed, given a last name that matches his family and told "forever".

Ezekiel's Adopiton Day

And so, after 21 years of marriage to a Filipino, four international Philippine adoptions and, now a new life running a child caring agency in The Philippines, I am feeling like I have a few pearls of wisdom to offer families adopting  older children from this wonderful place I now call "home".  

I share these based on my own experience and I understand every child and every situation has nuances of it's own. 

Take what helps and reject what doesn't. 

WHAT EVERY ADOPTIVE PARENT OF A FILIPINO CHILD SHOULD KNOW:

1. The children here eat lots and lots of rice - and I don't mean Uncle Ben's.  Invest in a rice cooker and some jasmine rice to welcome your new one home.  The familiarity of a staple food can go a long way in easing transitional jitters and, if he doesn't like the other food items offered, at least he will have some rice (and soy sauce) to fill his belly while you figure out his diet together.  Some safe bets for early-homecoming meals if you don't have access to authentic Filipino food?   Roasted chicken with rice,  fried fish with rice (even young children here know how to navigate around fish bones), or baked pork chops with rice.   Basic cross-cultural foods.

2.  Your child (school age) may ask for and use baby powder.  It's used in elementary schools here for keeping cool. Every morning before school, our Mercy House kids have me put powder down the back of their shirts and they also put a dusting on their faces. Everyone does it.   No biggie.

3. Children here are never alone.  They don't sleep alone, they sometimes even shower with a same-gender housemate, they travel in little groups.  Your child may be very afraid of that beautiful bedroom you worked so hard to decorate JUST FOR HIM.  He has probably never slept in a single room before.  Add to that the cultural superstitions here about "ghosts" , "white ladies" and the "tik tik" that comes to lick the bellies of pregnant women in the night and you have a recipe for a terrified child.  I hate to tell you that a simple night light may not do the trick.  Some of our toughest-acting street boys become frightened children when the lights go off.  

4. Even in the hottest places, air conditioning is often not available in living spaces so, if you use air conditioning at home, your child may get very cold, even when you are not.  In time, they adjust to their new environments but in the interim,  his insistence on wearing that hoodie or snuggie everywhere you go is not just for dramatic effect.  He's probably freezing! 

5.  Your new child may be very afraid of your indoor pets.  There are lots of pets here and may dogs and cats but they are generally kept outside and, we have noticed, they aren't very big.  Your "big" dog here is probably  the size of a long-legged beagle in the US.  There are street dogs everywhere here and they are pretty small by western standards.  Give your new child lots of time to get to know your pets.  He may need it. 

6.  The term for the bathroom here is the "CR" - "comfort room" . .. even if your child speaks a small amount of English, asking him if he needs the "CR" will be more easily understood than any other term for that crucial place! And since we're already talking bathroom talk, let me share something you will want to know if your new child isn't diapered.  Kids here often undress from the waist down and squat on the rim of the toilet seat to use the bathroom. And most child caring agencies can not afford to buy toilet paper so children wash themselves after using the restroom with a "tabo".  It sits in what we would think of as a 5-gallon paint bucket full of water next to the toilet and the child reaches over, dips and rinses.  No towel required.  There you have it! 

7.  Even our young children here in care like spicy foods.  They especially like having a tiny sauce cup on their plates that they can mix soy sauce, vinegar and labuyo (hot, small, red pepper) into.  After the meal,  our kids drink that sauce if it's not used up - to my horror!

8.  Please don't overwhelm your new child with material goods.  Here, having a pair of tennis shoes of your own is a pretty big deal. Very few children have bicycles of their own. They are generally shared property. None of the kids I've met in care have any electronics.  Hold onto the "easy to please" aspect of your child as long as you can.  The more you buy and offer, the more he will expect and, believe me, if he is older, someone in his life has likely told him that going abroad means he's going to be "rich".  Focus on the loving bond by spending time together, don't spoil the appreciation he has for  the small things by filling his life with "stuff". 

9.  The terms "mommy" and "daddy" are used here to refer to caregivers often.  Please don't take it personally.  I remember when one of our boys came home and was telling me a story about his "other mom" (caregiver) and it cut me to the heart.  I wanted to yell at him 'I'M THE ONLY MOTHER YOU HAVE! SHE DIDN'T ADOPT YOU! SHE'S NOT YOUR MOM"  but, of course, I kept quiet.  And I am so glad I did!  Moving to The Philippines has taught me that those family words are simply titles here.  The kids call our social worker "Mommy Love" and their old social worker "Mommy April" and they understand completely that these ladies are not their actual parents.  This is a term of respect for someone who takes care of you.  Your kids will also refer to their caregivers as "Tita, Tito, Auntie, Uncle" etc and will likely say "my sister in The Philippines . . . " when telling you about their housemates.  A sort of family created by love and not blood or birth is what they are referring to.  These early bonds are good indicators of future attachment and should be appreciated and not resented.   Hindsight is 20/20, huh?   I definitely wish I'd known this before adopting.  

10.  The Philippine culture is very emotional.  Your child's despedida (or going away ceremony) MAY be filled with tears from everyone who knew him before you.  I find this whole process so healthy for our children although it may leave us feeling like kidnappers who are doing something awful to a child we love.    There will be guilty feelings and questioning of whether taking your child from this loving family environment is a kindness or a cruelty.  Trust me, it is VITAL that children in care be adopted. I heard a poignant quote at a recent training seminar I attended. It was penned by an adult adoptee. She said:

"I had to give up everything I knew in order to get everything I needed".     The truth of these words will stay with me, especially  as we process children in our care for adoption. 

11.  This is a party culture!   From birthdays to Christmas to baby dedications,  The Philippines is a place of parties. The parties here are full of food, karaoke,  card playing, dancing and more food!  Christmas here is a country wide even with parades for weeks beforehand, and lots of festivities.  Many adoptees find Christmas in the western world very quiet and dull compared to the way it is celebrated here. 

Be encouraged! If you've already adopted your child and, like me,  missed out on some the information that could have made the transition easier, take heart!  The final observation I'll make about our Filipino children is this:

THEY ARE VERY RESILIENT AND EXTREMELY FORGIVING

You are learning  to be his parent and he is learning to be your child.  You will find your own comfortable spot in these roles and that takes time and plenty of "do overs".     And isn't that the best thing about life?  Making new paths and holding hands along the way?

Enjoy your child.  Learn  his culture.  Bend and flex for him.   He is worth it.

A Mother Like That

I have a dilemma. It has come unexpectedly although should have been anticipated from the inception of our residential care ministry to
street children here, in The Philippines.

I am a mother. It's my calling and my joy.


Our ministry center is a nice-sized family home with four large bedrooms. Staff quarters is downstairs (a 2-room master shared by me, my husband and our two youngest children) and two big bedrooms upstairs. One is for the girls and one is for the boys.
We have always conceived that our ministry would run as a family home. We dreamed of these disenfranchised street children getting the experience a "regular, nuclear family".    And they do.  With one exception.

I am a mother. I am not good at drawing boundary lines between who is "mine" and who is not.


I love the children in our care.  Some more than others because I am human. There is one I would love to keep forever. For no other reason than "I just want to".  He's not particularly well behaved. He has done nothing to earn the favoritism. He's just a beautiful boy with a shattered family unit.

My missionary  heart is helping him to be prepared for an adoptive family someday.   My mother's heart wants to "lose" his documents and keep him.

I have been warned by my husband that the love I shower on this child might make it harder for him to bond with his new family when that time comes.  And he's probably right.  But something in my heart of hearts just simply can not keep this child at arm's length. He has never ever EVER had a mom of his own.  He is ravenous for mother love.  He fakes illnesses or injuries and steals glances at me to see if I'm coming to his aid.   He draws piles of pictures of his "family" (which always includes me, my husband and our youngest child) and puts himself right in the center. He copies our youngest child (using sign language even though he can talk, folding his arms and shaking his head "no" when he doesn't want something) and it is not in a mean way.  It is a blatant attempt just to be like him. Maybe to learn the trick to being utterly adored?   

And he knows the facts.  He has been counseled, more than once, that Mercy House is not his "forever home" - that we are all in prayer  that God will bring him his OWN parents and his OWN forever family.  He always says "no.  I'm staying here with you" and points to me.

This is hard and has probably gone on longer than I should have allowed. 

  As "nature took it's course", there was not a thought in my mind that pouring into this little boy could have these consequences.  I could only see the hole and fill it.   I felt like a stand-in or a substitute.  And, that IS what I am.

But I am also a mother. So imperfect but a little perceptive, too.

I know real from fake.  It's not the "image" of a mother that this little boy is after. It's an actual mother. Right now, it's me.

I dare to think  none of my other friends in child-caring  ministries have been so stupid as I.  They probably all decided from day one to stand back and let the paid caregivers do their jobs.   They probably predicted that bonding with a child who is not their own could be a mixed blessing for that kid.    Some people only have to be told that it hurts to be hit by a bus, others have to actually be hit by it to believe. I suppose I'm a member of group #2.



To top it all off, I am not convinced I am doing wrong.  I know this child will move on to a permanent home.  He knows and I know.
In the meantime, I  want to be a model for him of what a good mother will be and will do.  My earnest prayer is that the lessons and the sense of safety and unconditional acceptance will be transferred to his NEW mom and dad when that time comes.

Why do I not feel this way about every child in our center? I have wondered that many times. I never set out to single one child out or to show favoritism. I am conscious of the jealousy that can arise between the children.  But of all the children in our care, THIS is the one who will likely go the longest without a family. Some of the others have family. One of our boys has a loving mother, step dad and siblings. They will be together again soon. The family just needs time to get stable.  Our girls . . . well, they are girls. Everyone seems to love orphaned girls. They are sweet and girly. They draw the eye of every visitor. Who wouldn't love them?

But THIS child is a boy. Older. From the streets. Formerly a glue-sniffing, thieving, trouble-making BOY.  The line for a child like him is short.  His teacher at school recently told us he is the poorest behaved child in her class. Maybe that's why he grabbed my heart so quickly.  The most hidden of hidden treasures . . . but I can see it.  

And I pray, above all else, he understands when THAT time comes. That he is not hurt but is thankful.
This is a risky, muddled business and as a flawed human, it is sometimes hard to separate what God has commanded from what I simply want.

I want what is best for this beautiful boy.  I want him to be found by his forever family.  I want him to slowly grow into a deep love for them that trumps anything he has experienced here, in his first family love.  I want him to stay off the streets and develop a love for his Creator that spurs him on to choose right.  I want him to know what it feels like to be highly valued.    I believe every one of those things is possible.

So I have begun to pray daily. For all of those.  I take special care to pray for his new mother. I pray that she is patient. I pray she looks at him and feels so lucky and blessed every day.  I pray she is sympathetic to the fact that he has suffered a lot of rejection and will likely try to act "tough" for a long time.  I pray that she adores even the scars.  That she understands that he would never have been hers if he had not first been down the road of abandonment.  I pray she only speaks well of his birth family, even after she learns about the things some of them have done.  I pray that she won't resent me for being so close to him.  It was before we knew who she was. It was at the lowest time of a child's life when he is having all his life decisions made for him with very little respect to what he might want. It was at a time when there was nobody else.

Because THAT is who this little boy needs most. He needs her.  A mother like that . . .

The Quandary

There is a lot of shifting going on in our lives right now.   Our two amazing biological children left us and went back to America.
We took one of our Mercy House boys back to his foster family today ( after catching him attempting to steal from us ) and we immediately picked up another child - an eleven year old boy named JayVee.   He is already proving to be a LOT of fun.  He has an amazing sense of humor and, as an added bonus for ME, he speaks a lot of English.   I can usually tell within a few minutes if I'm going to click with a child.
We click.

JayVee (green shirt) posing with our son, Kyle

There's no quandary in these things. We miss our bio kids. We are thankful JayVee is with us and we're sad that, after 8 weeks at Mercy House, a child decided to steal from us.  Easy peasy.

Here is the quandary that keeps us up at night and has us utterly CONVINCED one minute and filled with doubt the next:

                  REUNIFICATION

We have a tiny boy in our care at Mercy House. He has a mother, an aunt and a grandmother who love him.  They want him back.
Seems simple enough, right?  No.  Not right and not simple.

This photo is purposely a little vague to protect the privacy of the people in it.  The little boy being held is our Mercy House child. The lady holding him is his grandmother, who has missed him for nine months. The woman wiping her eyes is his biological mother, who struggles with mental health issues and wandered off with this child nine months ago, unable to tell authorities where they truly belong.
We looked for them for three months and finally found them. They didn't know where this child was. They were frantic.
And now they want him back.
Our ministry philosophy has always been and is still that Filipino children are best off in The Philippines with their biological family whenever that option is a safe one.
But is it?
This child is THREE.  This little family is poor and struggles with basic needs.  We can help them there but is it enough?
Our social worker has the weighty task of evaluating and monitoring this family to ensure that they take care of this little one but none of us can be there around the clock.
And add in the "monkey wrench" of the fact that we really love this little boy.
And you have  THE QUANDARY.
The power of words is startling in this situation. The recommendations we and our social worker make determine the course of this precious child's life.
Our words can send him back to his family or they can start him on the fast track to adoption.
Our words can keep him here at Mercy House for a long time or send him away  in a matter of weeks.
This deepens the quandary.
What if we decide he can go back to the family and something bad happens to him? What if his mother relapses and takes him on another long walk to unfamiliar territory?  Will he be so lucky the second time to be placed in care before an accident happens?
In my pre-missionary days,  there would be no quandary. I would have stated unequivocally that being adopted to the US, Australia, Spain or somewhere "richer" was clearly the best answer to his need for permanency.
But I live here now.  In a developing nation.
And I know that for every child placed on the road to adoption, another child is waiting. And another. And another.
There are simply not enough adoptive parents open to older child with negative birth history to ensure that someone will step forward for this little angel.
And he is.   An angel, I mean.
He's funny and smart and very small for his age.  He understands jokes and tries to speak English a lot.
I know some family out there has been praying for a little boy just like him.  Only they don't know it.
And we could get him all set to be adopted.
But is that the best thing for him?  Not only him.  His mother? His grandmother? His aunt? His two older brothers?
They love him, you know.
Being poor doesn't mean they love less deeply than the rest of us.  They are just more powerless.
THIS is another layer of the quandary. I know what the Bible says about the responsibility I have toward the poor.
This is the reason I cling to the book of James and the promise that God gives wisdom generously to those who ask for it.
I'm asking . . . 

My There-You-Are Kids

This post is likely going to be a little disjointed and will most certainly NOT satisfy a reader who has come here looking for a ministry update.

I often struggle with how much to share on the blog. In years past, I would have had no trouble opening my heart and letting the contents spill all over this site.  But right now, today, I am a missionary.   I want to be careful that this adoption/ministry/Mama's heart blog is just as authentic as it ever was but also that it never disparages the ministry under which we serve.

But at this very moment, I have to throw caution to the wind and share something that has happened and my downright unspiritual, self absorbed, childish reaction to it.


If you are an adoptive parent, you may have experienced the unnerving phenomenon known as "love at first sight" with a child.
I have had this happen EVERY time we have adopted.  I would see my boy on the Special Homefinding list  and think "Oh, there he is. That's MY son.   Time to get the paperwork started . . . "

And EVERY TIME, he was ours.   My spirit knows my children.   Even before there are any guarantees.

I never even feared, with our 5 adopted treasures, that they were not mine.  Because they were. They are. Just the same as our two home-grown.

Grandma and Grandpa in The Philippines with us!

And now that we live in this country, where the children hold a unique place in my heart, I fully expected to "fall in love" again.  I was shocked when, as we began to serve in orphanages all around us, that did not happen.  I met child after child and waited for my there-you-are and it didn't happen.

I began to suspect that God was closing the door on our own home to more children and, instead, we would serve MANY and invest in the children here in a different way.  And I was fine with that.   Truly.   A little relieved, actually.

And then, my lightening bolt hit.   At a party we attended for a nearby orphanage.  A child came into the party so very quietly and put his head down at the table.  And not that it matters, but he was a very beautiful child.  I asked his name and age and gave him a craft to work on.   I know my hands were shaking because my there-you-are was in full swing.
I asked a caregiver about him and found out he was part of a small sibling group.  
And in walked younger sibling . . . There-You-Are . . . again.

But even more eerily, after the party, two of my own big kids noticed these children and said they should be ours. Oh, my joy!!!!

Because we serve children with special needs at this location, we visit fairly often. Each time I saw these siblings,  it was confirmed in my heart that they were our kids.  Their names, their faces, their ages . . . perfectly matched to our family. 

In typical "when our family adopts" fashion, I approached my husband.  In typical "my husband" fashion, he was hesitant but willing to pray about it.  Being the provider carries with it innate fears.  I get that.

As hubby began to warm to the thought of these children coming into our home, I worked up the courage to ask their orphanage director if they were available for adoption.  

Her answer wrapped around my heart like a heavy frost . . . ."there is a  family pursuing them now . . . the paperwork is in process . .. etc etc".

This was only yesterday.  But I  am confused.  My There-You-Are has not been wrong before.   This was something I knew just the way I know my own.   I did not WANT to be drawn to these children!  I was not looking to add to our family and I still am not.  I'm open and willing to do whatever the Lord asks of us but am not "cruising" for more sons or daughters.   We have been blessed to overflowing with the ones we have.  Above and beyond.

 I am tossed between being so happy that these children will have a family to being downright jealous that it isn't mine to wondering, still, if they will find their way to us.

Anything can happen in the world of adoption.  Especially as it crosses country lines. Approvals are not a guarantee.

And that's a terrible thing for me to say.  I know.  Please show me grace.

I warned you.   Unspiritual.  Childish. Self-Absorbed.  

But Faithful God in His perfect timing let me hear the news of their impending adoption on a Saturday.
Today is Sunday.

I anticipate I will walk into church still a little sullen and out-of-joint.
And be convicted.
And learn to trust Him more.
And decide to let this one go . . .

New ground for an "experienced" Mama.  Always room to grow and change.
Hard lessons from a loving God. 

Saying Goodbye

Oldest Son's 16th Birthday (2 years ago)

As we continue to make our preparations for moving to The Philippines, I can feel something strange and a little sad happening.  A shift in my thinking. 

I consider how old and ragged my couch  is looking.  I think "there's no need to replace it. We won't be here . . ."

I consider my daughter and second-oldest son's high school graduations and then catch myself . . . "oh, they'll be in The Philippines then."   And I feel sad and happy . . . the word "sappy" was created just for thoughts like these.

We have been blessed with tremendous friends and family here in the good old US of A . . . and I can't think about the void that will be left in my heart when I have to consider the time difference, the reliability of my internet and the cost when I want to reach out and touch someone.

But even more than my own sad and weird feelings, I am sad for my children.  THEY have made some wonderful friends, too.

Thanksgiving at Our House

Our boys with Two Great Friends at the Beach

Kyky's birthday with his favorite friends

Lunch With Family and Daughter's Close Friend

 Leaving family makes things doubly hard although I know there are airplanes and we will need to see them just as much as they will need us.  Of this, I am certain.

"MY side" at Oldest Son's Graduation Party

Uncle Jr with our sweet Angel Baby 

There is also a giddy thought that keeps my heart full of joy even though we leave so many behind.
It is the off chance, just the possibility, that after so many years of praying for Lemuel's oldest biological brother and writing so many senators( and even the President )to try to bring him to the US  and no one could help because immigration law does not allow for a young man of his age to be adopted, it might just happen in the most unexpected way . . . we will come to him.

And even at almost 22 years old, with many  there who love and care for him already, he has room for eight more people in his life.  Maybe, despite the many he has called "Mom", he would be willing to say that to this white lady who has sent him boxes and skyped with him over the years but never been able to visit in person. 
This young man has never left my heart and always has been in my prayers.   I think of his hard work just to speak some English to his little brother when they skype. And how he sang "Who Am I" by Casting Crowns to us over skype the first time we talked . . . and I felt like a ninny because it made me cry.    And every time it seemed time to end the skype, Ariel would say "Lem, Lem" and I could visibly see him trying to think of something more to talk about so they could have a little more time .

And when I pray for him now,  I refer to him as my "one", thinking of the parable of leaving the 99 sheep for the "one that was lost".  Even though he isn't lost, we know right where he is and who is watching over him, it seems he has been without blood relatives for far too long.  And we have his blood brother right here.  Seems simple enough . . .

As if adding another son to this full and blessed quiver wasn't enough, there's the ministry we get to do. We will have the privilege of going to many different orphanages to do play therapy and screening with visually impaired orphans.  We get the chance to put our hands on these fatherless boys and girls and tell them how precious they are!  We can build relationship with these children and, Lord willing, help them find their families.  Most importantly, we will be able to tell them about their Heavenly Father, who made them and loves them and has a plan for each one of them.

So focusing on Ariel and focusing on the children, I think I can do this "goodbye" thing. 
I know it won't be easy on any of us but I also know that Ephesians tells me I serve a God who does "immeasurably more than we ask or imagine" . . . so much more . . . and if those things I am imagining are THIS great, I look forward to seeing what the "MORE" will look like!

It's not quite time for official goodbyes yet but I feel the shift. The time is drawing near.
I have never had to trust so much in my life.  But our faithful Father is paving the way and
turning our hearts toward The Philippines in new ways.

And we wait . . . and expect . . . and follow . . .

We've Come a Long Way, Baby

June 12th marked six years since our much-smaller-then family piled into our old Ford, Windstar and took the two-hour drive to the children's psychiatric hospital.
Six years since we claimed a very scared but awfully cute 8 year old boy as our fourth child.

 It was the consummate case of "blind leading the blind".  Sure, we had adopted once before but never a child with a LABEL,  never a child from not one, but two disrupted placements, never a child that had been in the United States for just under seven months but experienced the pain of three adult lifetimes in that span.

It has been six years since the wave that rolled our boat, but never capsized us completely, hit our safe little nest that I so carefully feathered to keep out all the "bad things".

Six years since I lost the title of "The Most Together Mom You'll Ever Meet"  a title I bestowed on myself and based on my ability to reiterate the wisdom of others but that had never been earned through painful lessons and in-the-trenches parenting.

It has been six years since a child who felt truly unlovable,  and told me so, buckled up in that mini van to give family life one more go.  Because he had no power except the power to rage.  And he put all his effort into flexing that muscle beginning on the second day home.

Six years since the Lover of our Souls said "I have some immense work to do in one little family in North Carolina and this might hurt a bit . . . ."

Six years since I had the first glimpses into what true depression must feel like. And it was terrifying. And I understand now why someone would run . . . not walk . . . to the nearest pharmacy, or ABC Store and do anything it takes to make that feeling go away.   I never knew.

Six years since we stopped blaming bad parenting everytime we saw a kid coming unglued in a public place. We give the benefit of the doubt these days.

  So very long ago that we watched our other children learning painful spiritual lessons and rather than taking great measures to ease the pain, we recognized it for what it was and turned silently to our Father in prayer.

This little family is living proof that our ways are not His ways and our thoughts are not His thoughts. But that His are higher, grander, more far reaching, penetrating, succinct and not to be trifled with.

Six years since we lay between the rails on the train tracks and just cried out to God while the locomotive barreled by, inches from our faces.

We knew we were in the presence of a Great Work.  And as much as we longed to leave the classroom, we dared not.

SIX MONTHS . . . it has been about six months since our Father chose to heal our precious boy!
Six months since we sat up, blinked, looked at things through new eyes and said "that wasn't so bad".

                                            Lem( on the right -blue shirt) visiting biological brother
                                            who was adopted into a different family six years ago.

The Word of the Lord is true and altogether trustworthy.  I know this lesson and it has taken six years to digest it.  The healing of the Lord is complete.  I know this, too. It has taken me six months to believe it.

Psalm 30:5 says "weeping may last for a night but joy comes in the morning". 
Six years made for a long night.  Six months has been a beautiful morning.

Isaiah 61:3 says
To all who mourn in Israel, he will give a crown of beauty for ashes, a joyous blessing instead of mourning, festive praise instead of despair. In their righteousness, they will be like great oaks that the LORD has planted for his own glory.

We have tasted and seen that the Lord is good. In sorrow and in joy.  In weeping and laughter, in tearing down and building up.  His peace sustains and his righteous right hand upholds.

Faithful God . . . fulfilling His purposes . . . never leaving nor forsaking.

Never giving us the shortcut to learning but holding our hands in each trial.

Thank you, Father.  You've brought us so far... in just six short years!

Jealousy

From time to time, people we meet who learn of our family composition will share sweet words about their feelings for what we're doing. It's hard to know how to take compliments and I often just deflect them by saying how thankful we are that God has called us to adoption. It's true. We are.

The comment that makes me smile most is "you sure are a giving person".

"No, not really", I think.

It's a sweet sentiment but our pursuit of adoption was 90% selfish and 10% altruistic for me. But it was also 100% obedience to what we know Jesus has asked.

I am a greedy, jealous Mama. I love to be adored by my kids. I am greedy for their affection. I have to be #1 in their hearts (besides Jesus) and I am the LAST person who is looking for a mentor, "big brother/sister" or stand in Grandma for my kids. Sure, it's great if they forge a friendship with their youth leaders or think their friends' parents are "cool" but the buck stops there.

These kids are ALL MINE (well, and their Dad's but still . . .).

I think I am the mother version of a possessive girlfriend - a little stalkerish but for reasons I feel are justified. These kids are funny, smart and beautiful. Certainly someone out there must be out to steal their hearts from me . . . right?

I don't know why I am like this or where this ferocity comes from but it has NOT diminished as my children grow older. It might be a little worse. I see members of the opposite gender being flirty with my older kids or eyeballing them in public and while I'm sure this behavior is perfectly normal, it makes me want to yank the "starer" up by the shirt collar and say "may I help you?" about two inches from his/her face (and I won't have an altoid, either)!

I know these kids will marry someday and I may not be invited on the honeymoon. I'll have to cross that bridge when I come to it.

But for now, I'm just going to revel in having all of these terrific people under my roof where we can have lots of dinners together, play cards, watch movies, travel and enjoy each other for a little longer.

I love the time spent with my prodigy. There has been hard work invested in their characters and training and as they get older, we see the hard work coming to fruition. They are amazing! Despite our missteps and the things we could have done better, they are superb individuals! That's Jesus . . .Faithful God going before us.

I am not giving. I'm greedy.

But isn't HE jealous for us? Doesn't HE look at our hearts and say "back away, you idols, that's MY daughter and her heart belongs to ME"?

In Exodus 20:5, God tells the Israelites:
"You shall not bow down to idols or serve them for I, the Lord your God, am a jealous God . . ."

In Ezekiel 5 (a harsh chapter, I must say) God again tells His people that He is jealous for their affections.

I know my "jealousy" for the hearts of my children is not the perfect, sinless jealousy that God feels for us. The parallel falls short where my sinful nature starts - immediately.

But when I think of the shoddy, imperfect love I have for these kids HE has entrusted to me, I am humbled that His perfect, never-giving-up, always-forgiving, heart-pursuing love is so much more.

And He has the rights. He paid a high price for me. He owns me. I am His.

Let me never follow after lesser things, Father.

Thank You for being so jealous. You confound me, Father . . .

ONE YEAR

Today, July 7th, 2012 marks one year since I waited nervously on the jetway.
One year since 30 of our friends and family members gathered in anticipation.
One year since I had to learn to answer "six" when asked how many children I have.

Our precious Francis has been home ONE YEAR today!

When I remember the early weeks of his homecoming, it is with fondness and maybe a little shudder of gratefulness that we are HERE instead of THERE.

I recall those early weeks where I was his complete link to the USA. Every task I set out to do, no matter how mundane, he wanted to be a part of. From making a bank deposit to getting groceries, Francis was always by my side asking questions. He wanted to know how everything worked here. He was absorbing life in the US at warp speed.

He wanted to know how much everything cost and then would quickly produce his calculator to convert that number to Philippine Pesos . . . and then he would gasp at the sheer expense of everything from a value meal to a pair of shoes.

He took perfect care of all of his belongings and was quick to help around the house with any chore anyone was doing.

And then he started to work for his dad and earn his own money . . . and NEVER spent a dime! He hid it in his room (although I always knew just where) and counted it again and again, converting it to pesos and remarking how shocked his friends back home would be at his "stash". We stayed up late watching action movies together after everyone else went to bed. I watched a lot of shooting and explosions...I was happy to.

He facebooked The Philippines for hours each day. He ached for those friends and caregivers in a way that was so hard to watch and, although a necessary part of starting a new life, something I wanted to ease and could not.

But time went on.

He began to say "no thanks" when I offered to take him with me to the store or the post office. He began to spend a little money on going to the movies with siblings. He joined his basketball team and found confidence in his English speaking and social skills. He started to get invited over to friend's houses.

He made a lot of baskets at his games and won the respect of the other players.

His comfort level in every situation multiplied and you could visibly see him being grafted into this life and this family.

And it's been a pleasure to watch and a gift.

He is ours and we are his. A little more each day. Just when I think we've reached total immersion, we get closer. The good and the bad experiences are the glue. We welcome both. But the good outnumber the bad at least 100 to 1.

God has done us a great kindness in making Francis our son.
Right on time.

Happy ONE YEAR HOME, precious boy . . . you are a jewel in our crown.

Movin' On Up

Since the "big announcement" of mid April -the fact that our family is posed to hit the mission field in the next six to eight months- so very much has happened. Our excitement has met with mixed reviews. Most of them positive and encouraging. Many of them laced with cautionary tales of forgotten friends who struck out for the mission field only to meet with crippling illness, dangerous criminals or larger-than-life insects! We have had friends who want to partner with us financially (we're not there YET but we'll hit you up when the time comes - ha ha) and have offered to start saving items we can take with us to share with those we will meet along the way. God's people never cease to amaze me with their first-blush reactions to news such as ours. It's no secret we have a large family. Some of our family members have ongoing needs that are well-met here in the States. We have much to weigh and balance. This decision was not made lightly as "impulsive" or "spontaneous" are not adjectives anyone would readily apply to me. Yes, The Philippines has large bugs, diseases that no longer exist in the US, plenty of crime and no Wal Mart! But far outweighing those little annoyances are the beautiful people, the children who need the loving arms of parents around them, the beauty of the landscape, the openness of the culture, and the unreached population we hope to extend a hand to. . . more about them later in the post! In just a couple of days, I am scheduled to speak on the topic of Special Needs Adoption at the Together For Adoption conference in Winston-Salem. I was asked to do this long before the chance at the mission field cropped up. I am awed at how well these two paths converge! The group our family will serve, if God allows us to transplant, is the visually impaired orphan! I expect, as has been the case in every "good thing" we have set out to accomplish, we will end up receiving the blessing much more than those we aim to serve. God has used hearing impairment, Reactive Attachment Disorder, Down Syndrome and advanced age at the time of placement to remind us that we can not do any seemingly selfless deed without being swept away in a tide of His blessings. In light of what we have experienced, we go overseas a little selfishly. We know the blessing the Lord lavishes on us when we try to serve Him. It's a "secret" the apostle Paul discussed so many times in His letters to fellow Believers.

"What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ" Phil. 3:8

Galatians 6:9 And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.

Ephesians 2:10 For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.


It's seems so close at times, I wake up in the morning and feel like I am THERE instead of HERE. Other times, I look around at all the "stuff" we have to sell, pack, get rid of, do, change, cancel, paint, repair and consider before we can be free of this life and I get weary. God is going to have to do so much in preparation for our family to go and yet, it seems He has already begun, starting with the positive reaction from ALL of our children to the announcement! That was not something we expected and clearly falls under the "more than we ask or imagine" category!! Certain children of ours tend to lean toward the melodramatic and can, at times, be just a teeny tad smidge self-focused. Well, shut my mouth . . . everyone is on board!!!!!!


I close this little jaunt down the bunny trail with a special "PRAY FOR US" as the time clock tics, so many pieces of the puzzle must fall into place and only The Great Commissioner can bring the longings of our heart to a full-fledged, sustainable missionary life. More than we ask or imagine . . .

"Good" Friday : What Are We To Do?

But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon Him; and with His stripes we are healed.
Isaiah 53:5

saying, “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.” Luke 22:42


I've always found the notion of the day the Savior of the World was brutally executed being called "GOOD" Friday a little confusing. Sure, the outcome for mankind was very good, perfect in fact. Yes, the obedience Jesus modeled was nothing short of miraculous. But the pain, the suffering, the having your father turn away from you, the lonely walk down the Via Dolorosa, the knowledge that your father did NOT take the cup from you but is allowing everything to go on as prophesied, it must have felt many things other than "good" to the man part of our Messiah.

I think we tend to assume Jesus had an unusually high pain tolerance. Some scholars have theorized that the whippings alone would have killed any normal mortal and the fact that Jesus made it ALL THE WAY to Calvary is evidence of this fact. I don't know. God's word doesn't say and where it doesn't say, I hesitate to guess. I'm afraid others assume that Jesus somehow ENJOYED the pain and process of His death because He knew it would atone for the sins of mankind. Again, the Bible does not speak to any "enjoyment", only ultimate obedience, acquiescence, surrender to that which you would prefer to be taken away, far away, from you.
We forget that when Jesus took on flesh just like ours, that flesh was full of pulsing arteries, nerve endings, a spinal cord that transmits messages of pain just like yours and mine. Every whip, every step, every pulled out hair and every bitter insult were FELT, just as any human body "feels".

Please don't misinterpret this post as an emotional anthropomorphic word fest.
I would never WANT to make God like me in any way. He made that choice when he wrapped Himself in flesh and agreed to submit Himself to the human experience.

Why? Was it "all for me" as some songs so wrenchingly communicate? My reformed tendencies make me shun such a notion as man-centered and somehow off base.
But the book of Isaiah clearly says that "He was pierced for our transgression, crushed for our sins . . ." Yes, it was for me. My own personal discomfort with this idea is utterly irrelevant here.

So, what should our response be to so sacred a knowledge that the REASON for the life blood to drain from the Holy Creator of the Universe was our own sin???? What can we do? Are we to just take it in and ponder this news? Are we undone with no hope of repayment for this ultimate act? We are.

So we gratefully thank Him, we acknowledge that we did nothing to earn this sacrifice and we can do nothing that holds a candle to it in exchange. We realize how valued we are, for no other reason than that our Father just CHOSE to make us the objects of His affection and we lay our lives before Him to use as He sees fit.

We tell others, we do good, we serve the poor, we selflessly give of ourselves inasmuch as we are able with the sin sickness and it's grimy deposits coloring our deeds and we say "yes, Lord. Good Friday was good indeed"!

Nothing!

Fundraising.

Just the sound of the word can send chills down an adoptive family's spines!
Most of us have done it. Some of us are doing it. LOTS of us are afraid to try it but know we need to.

It is estimated that the largest demographic of adoptive families are middle income, two parent homes. In other words, most adoptive parents are "your average Joes".
We are.
We have a smallish home, older vehicles and I am not too proud to take the kids to the free sample line at Costco for lunch on occasion (ha ha). We clip coupons, get excited about bags of hand-me-downs and I know how to make one chicken stretch into three dinners if I have to. We use the redbox and popcorn for "fun Friday" as opposed to whole-family trips to first-run shows. We run through the sprinkler and make our own posicles from frozen lemonade. We are frugal because we have to be.

We have adopted four times internationally with NO debt!

How? How on Earth when the laws of mathematics and supply and demand screamed "stop it! We don't work that way".

Here's how:
Jeremiah 32:27
"I am the Lord, Adonai. The God of all mankind. Is anything too hard for me?"

This is clearly, a rhetorical question from the creator of the universe. The obvious answer is "no, Father. Nothing is too hard for YOU".

As I sat pondering this post before writing it,my mind drifted to our most recent adoption of our teenage son. I was truly afraid when we started this process. Not of adopting a teenager. Not of making room in my heart or house. I was afraid of how we were going to pay these mountainous fees! I had already seen the Lord work miracles three times in our adoptions but dare I push the envelope? Dare I ask Him to lavish me AGAIN with provision? Would my friends, family and church have grown weary of our excited invitations for them to partner with us for the sake of an orphan?

I remember putting my "chip in" button on my blog with a little fear and trepidation.

In no time, the first donation came in. It was a LARGE donation from the teenage son of one of my highschool friends. This young man did not know us personally.
He is, I repeat, a TEENAGER! Aren't they supposed to be self absorbed? Aren't they supposed to be saving every cent for a fast car or the latest gadget? Nope. Not this young man. He blasted us with our first big donation and reminded me
that the Lord is GOD and NOTHING is too hard for Him!!!!

Take heart, my fellow fund raising friends! God moves the most unexpected people to do the most unpredictable things for His own glory.

OPPORTUNITY TO BLESS #1:
I know a family made up of four gorgeous children, two young, busy parents and a love for the Lord that calls them to go deeper for the sake of one adorable little boy in The Philippines who has some special needs. This particular boy stole the heart of every one of my family members on the last trip. He is cuteness personified. He is the favorite of every visitor. He is the non biological brother of our Francis, who loves him and is so thrilled that he will have his own family soon.
This is a family of "average Joes". They could use our help. Please consider heading over to their blog to make ANY size donation (http://bindmywanderingheart.wordpress.com/). They have stepped out in faith, trusting that God will pay for what He has ordered. They are counting on the body of Christ to help get their son here. They'll gladly do the raising, the feeding, the training, the late-night comfort. They need US to help get him here!!

BLESSING OPTION #2:
There is an astounding, large family made up of children from many, many countries. This family opens their doors to hard-to-place children. They keep sibling groups from being disassembled. They tirelessly seek the "least of these", scoop them up and claim them.
This family has more than 20 children but does not feel complete. They are, once again, pursuing children who have nobody to call "Mama" or "Daddy". Their newest children come from Ghana, Africa. The infant of this group has some significant challenges. This family stands at the ready! They say "bring it on" and prepare, once again, to offer children the permanency that they need to thrive.
Will you pray about extending your hand?
http://gillispiefam.blogspot.com/2012/03/walking-by-faith-efuas-family.html?m=1
Cut and paste the link above into your browser for more information on helping this family.

Not every Believer is called to adoption. But we are all commanded to care for the orphan (James 1:27). Here are two opportunities right before you.

What say you?

I Say "YES" . . . Do You?

I have watched a plethora of adoption videos. Some are intended to shock while others simply pull the heart strings. A few of the adoption videos I have seen over the years are even designed to shame folks into adopting. I usually deeply DISLIKE adoption videos for the reasons above. The decision to adopt a child, older or an infant, with or without special needs, is one best wrestled between husband, wife and their Creator. God is so very good at illuminating our path - opening the doors HE wants open and shutting those we are not to walk through.
The video below,although heartfelt and touching is just as simple as an adoption video gets. REAL children sharing their REAL experiences before and after their families came to claim them.
Although each of the children in this video is an ex- US foster child, I believe their words echo the sentiments of children all over the world. The longing for a family knows no geographic limits. The heart of a child is created for family. Everywhere. All the time.
Enjoy!

Touring Holland - A Reader's Response

P.S.(IN AN AWKWARD PLACE) I JUST CHECKED MY STATS AND NOTICED READERS FROM THE NETHERLANDS. PLEASE NOTE THAT I DON'T TRULY "HATE" HOLLAND, IT'S PEOPLE OR THE NETHERLANDS. I HAVE NEVER BEEN THERE. "HOLLAND" IS JUST THE COUNTRY CHOSEN BY THE AUTHOR OF A POEM TO REPRESENT AN UNEXPECTED DESTINATION. THE NAME OF ANY COUNTRY COULD BE INSERTED.


My recent post regarding our son who has RAD and our family's exile to "Holland" sparked much response. From private emails to facebook messages, many of you expressed that you, yourselves, are fellow residents of "Holland". I want to thank you, as I so often do, for just reminding me that our family is in good company, the best, really.


One particularly poignant response is reprinted below (with permission by the author, Jeff McSwain). Jeff's wife and I were recently able to spend some very "real" time together discussing our shared struggles and the grace that God has shown us in these struggles. I hope you will find her husband's Christ-focused response to "these current trials" as uplifting and concise as I do.


Touring Holland - by Jeff McSwain, father of a large family. Some adopted. Some not.

God is my travel agent, my tour guide, and my true husband. Holland is
not where I wanted to travel, and not where I expected to be, but it
is the spot God booked for me. If I focus on where everyone else seems
to be able to go and enjoy, and ignore my Tour Guide, then my life
will be a walking death, full of a growing darkness, bitterness, and
depression. I know because I have done this, at times.

One thing that helps me is to remember what I deserve. The fact is, we
all deserve an all-expense paid trip to Hell. Holland is heaven, in
comparison!

Through suffering, I have learned how to be thankful that I am in
Holland. I have developed a desperate dependence on my Tour Guide, Who
comforts me in ways that my closest family and friends, even my own
spouse, cannot. I know my God in ways that those who seemingly get to
spend their lives in Italy may never know.

If I had been sent to Italy, where I was continuously thrilled by my
surroundings, enthralled with exotic sights and smells and tastes, and
inspired by culture filled with the music of Rossini, the paintings of
da Vinci, and the statues of Michelangelo, it might be completely
beyond me to remember the name of my Tour Guide even a few weeks
later. “Yeah, He was there, but He really was just part of the
background for me.”

But in Holland, my tour guide carries the trip, and He leads me
through the sweaty underbelly of the city sometimes, and the sights
fill me with fear and pain. He booked my trip with others who think
and act appallingly, who offend my senses and betray and wound me. My
Tour Guide, though, is kind, gentle, patient, loving, joyful,
peaceful, and truly good.

When I look back on my time in Holland, I confess that it thrills me.
The dykes under the starry, wide-open night sky where I took walks
with Him. The backstreet where I held His hand while a hoodlum opened
fire on us just for the fun of it. The hospital where He stayed by my
side while I recovered from my gunshot wound. The good advice He gave
me about how to love the others on the trip when really I was just
secretly hoping that they'd go on a bathroom break and get left behind.

Holland was the best place for me. The purpose of my trip to Holland
was not for me to enjoy and remember the good things about Holland.
The purpose of my trip was for me to fall in love with my Tour Guide.
Holland made it easy for me to love my Tour Guide. "Yeah, Holland was
there, but it really was just the background for me."

Now, it hardly matters where I am, because I know and love the Great I AM.

Why Bigger is Better

Recently, it was brought to my attention that my family is considered a "large family". According to yahoo answers and wikipedia, "a family with more than four children constitutes a 'large family' in this century". A family with more than seven children can be considered a "mega family" and a family with more than twelve children . . . well, it was hard to find NICE adjectives online to describe a family with more than twelve children. When you do an internet search of families with more than twelve children, many of those "zero population growth" folks have snatched up domain names and jumped onto soap boxes that leave no room for celebrating a family of any size. For them, even one child is one child too many! Bah! Humbug!
This little research project got me thinking of all the reasons a big family is such a wonderful place to be! I don't mean to slight or show disrespect to families of few children. It's my intention share my heart in praise of large families and mention some of the things I have observed in my own family that have changed for the better as we've added members.

Large Families are Great Because:
1. There is always someone to snuggle/play/hang out with
2. There is generally at least ONE person who is on your side in an argument, no matter how wrong you are
3. Mom and Dad never have to worry about gaining too much weight because there is often a pair of eyes (or two) looking at them pleadingly while they try to enjoy that last piece of pie. Those same eyes are near to a pair of ears that can detect the pantry door or cellophane opening from a mile away!
4. Sharing is second nature
5. Nobody's a picky eater
6. You have many opportunities to serve others right in your own home
7. We can carry the groceries in in just ONE trip!
8. Pet care, chores, and yard work are shared among many sets of hands.
9. Our sitters love our children as much as we do - they are their siblings!
10. My definition of "loud" has changed dramatically and I can now concentrate almost anywhere
11. The bathroom is the only place anyone is ever alone so when someone is missing as we head out of the house, we always know where to look
12. You learn that "me time" is highly over rated
13. Finally . . .a big family is a place where you can be yourself, find a friend, get honest feedback, share ideas, be a counselor and a counselee, share inside jokes, and teach someone something new . . . ALL IN ONE DAY!

Anthony,Aaron, Elliana, Francis, Lemuel, Kyle and Ezekiel - you make life in a big family just one big adventure! I'm so thankful that we get to learn all this stuff together!

Baby For Sale

I recently had the incredible misfortune of reading an article online (sent to me by an appalled friend) that was penned by an adult adoptee. This adult adoptee is a bitter young woman who is angry about being "snatched from her culture, language and homeland" by her wealthy, white adoptive parents. She goes on to lament a lifetime of LOOKING Asian and not BEING Asian. She felt she never fit in anywhere. She was a perfect, chubby, beautiful baby the day her parents boarded the plane to Korea. She was not, however, an orphan. After much research and several trips back to her native country (and years learning the language), the author of this article discovered living parents, aunts, uncles, full-blooded siblings and an entire village built around her lineage. This is one of the saddest adoption stories I have ever read. It's sad on several levels. First, the author never felt fully embraced by her adoptive family, she was always left with an empty ache of needing to find where she truly belongs. Second, she turned out to be right. She was not a true orphan. She was the spawn of a young, unmarried girl who later went on to marry the baby's father and build a life with him. But who knew?
Adoption is laden with miry ethical issues that are often swept aside by parents longing for the warmth and responsibility of a baby. Adoptive parents sometimes don't know the full story. Under the Hague Convention, a "true orphan" is a child who is either:
1. one of parents who are deceased
2. a child who has been legally, voluntarily surrendered by biological parents
3. a child who has been declared neglected and abandoned by the court system

The young woman in the story was none of these. She was taken to a clinic by a distant relative and left there. Her anguished mother searched for her for months.
The relative felt he was doing the mother a favor and, in time, she would see the gift she was given in being unfettered.

Why am I, a four-time international adoptive parent, even discussing such a sensitive topic? Why would I want to put something into print that might make a family second guess the decision to adopt? Because it is VITAL to the future health of your family and your adopted child to be careful when adopting. A child who's parents are deceased should have solid evidence in his paperwork of such. A child who has been legally surrendered should have surrender paperwork (ours even includes the thumbprint from the surrendering parent. I look at these prints often and, for some reason, they are extra precious). A child declared abandoned by the courts will have a long paper trail of attempts to locate birth family, court appearances, and that child will likely be OLDER because it takes time to properly execute a search for a parent who, may not even know their child is on the fast-track out of the country.
Your best chance of being certain that you are adopting a true orphan is to adopt from a "Hague Convention Country". These countries have agreed to abide by rules that decrease the likelihood of child trafficking. They are agreed that beautiful babies "found in a park" might just have more to their stories.
The draw back? Many children from Hague Convention Countries are older children. They have had to wait for documents and signatures to complete their files. Those surrendered directly at birth by parents are not as plentiful and families who feel they need a small, healthy infant must wait a long time in a Hague Country, for a match.
Yes, The Philippines is a Hague County. They are transparent in all their paperwork, fees and timelines, in my experience. The children offered there for adoption are "true orphans". In fact, our agency just received a new batch of files of waiting children. No. There are no tiny babies there (several toddlers, though) but there ARE gorgeous sibling groups. There are children who have waited a long time to be claimed as sons and daughters. There are kids there who my family MET IN PERSON and fell in love with on the last trip to The Philippines. Uh oh . . . (ha ha) yes, there's one little five year old boy on that list who is a heart-stealer. He has some special needs but those only serve to make him CUTER, in my humble opinion.
Are you considering adding to your family through adoption? Please consider a true orphan. PLEASE consider a Hague Convention Country. Adoption is a slow and painful test of patience no matter which route you take but a true orphan from a Hague Country may help your family, in the long run, to avoid some of the doubts and heartache that come with a child who knows, deep in her heart, that she had another life where she was someone's treasure. Kids know. Even young children. Somehow, they know. I believe God placed a sense in us, of where we belong. Is there a true orphan out there who belongs with you?