Ten Ways to Help Orphans

In basically random order…

Read -books, blogs, the Bible... things that raise your awareness of the plight of the orphans and the need to help them.

Share -share a worldview with your kids... tell them about other countries, learn about different places and people... broaden their view of the world so they begin to see with God's eyes rather than narrowed ones.

Talk -tell people about your discoveries... introduce them to orphans and their stories, talk about the ways to help, talk about the need to help.

Listen- If you're reading this, chances are you already have an interest in orphans. And probably are developing some strong opinions, too.  Take the time to listen to the facts, to the stories, and to the people who are involved on the front lines.  Orphans and adoption are highly emotional topics. Try to listen without judging. Be a supportive ear for a friend going through the adoption process. Share the joys, commiserate over the troubles.

Give -time and money, always needed, always valued... even a little bit goes a long way.  You can give to charities or orphan missions, or directly to adopting families.  As incentive, many are tax-deductible, too.  Some families seek donations in a fun way, "selling" birthdays... for example, you donate $5 for each date you want blocked off... or puzzle pieces... for a small donation, your name is written on the back of a puzzle piece and someday the child you've helped will be able to see the names of all the people who cared.

Collect -gather your cast-off toys, those little Happy Meal cars and dolls, extra school supplies, socks or hats on sale. Store them in a small box and be ready to donate them to Christmas ministries or other orphan care.

Pray -without ceasing. With joy and thanks for these children. With love and concern for them. For the people who are taking care of them now. For the people who have the power to change a life. For the families who want new sons and daughters. For the children who very much want families. For those who are uncertain. There's a phrase in adoption circles... "RH", which stands for Reluctant Husband.  I've seen many RHs become enthusiastic dads-to-be through the power of prayer… I've seen it first-hand, in fact!

Adopt -this is an obvious one, and the biggest. It's not necessarily for the faint of heart! But God does equip us. No, you can't adopt everyone. And some shouldn't be adopted. What? It's true. There are many older children who do not actually want to be adopted... they've spent their lives learning to look after themselves, and removing them from their native culture at an older age can create great difficulty. Does that mean we can't help them then? Not at all! They, too, need help... there are wonderful opportunities for them to live in a group-home family style setting, and get the care and food they need. Consider supporting one of these homes.

Shop -This one's a win-win. Many families fundraise for their adoptions... after all, how many of us have thousands of dollars laying around? Children are worth a little work! The fundraising takes the form of selling handmade goods, online auctions, and receiving commissions from parties such as Pampered Chef, Scentsy, and Tastefully Simple.  There are also some businesses who help with sales of t-shirts, coffee, and gift certificates, to name a few.  Many people have found shopping this way to be a wonderful source for unique gifts, as well as an opportunity to help bring a child home.

Start -Start moving- or start a movement.  I've found that sometimes the hardest part of doing something is just getting started. So, don't put it off. Start now! Start with prayer, if you like. That's the easiest, and will help guide you in the best direction.  Why not start a movement, too? I would love to bring up the subject of orphan ministries at my church. It would be great if I started something there.

Starting Monday, I'll look at each of these "ways to help" a little more closely.  In the meanwhile, I'll be remembering on Good Friday and rejoicing on Easter Sunday!   

Who, What, Why, Where, When, and How

Who are the orphans?  An orphan is a child without parents. Some are what we think of as classic orphans, having lost both parents to death.  Others are known as social orphans, who were abandoned, or removed from parental care, or relinquished by their birth parents.

It is estimated that between 143,000,000 and 210,000,000 children are orphans. That’s at least 143 MILLION children in the world today. (Recent UNICEF report.)  [from Harvest Ministry]

What is life like for them? Some orphans are in a good place… adequate food and clothing, health care. Others are in horrible situations… fed little more than gruel in a bottle, confined to cribs (even the teenagers), deprived of human touch.  All of them are lacking in the love of a family.

Why should I help them? Because they need it. Because you have plenty, and they do not. Because they are children - innocent children, created by God and rejected by man. Because God tells us to....

Where are they located? Everywhere. I have a special interest in the orphans of Eastern Europe, but there are children in desperate need of love and care all over the world… Africa, Asia, and right here, too.

When should I get started? Right now!

And How? Read, share, talk, listen, give, collect, pray, adopt, shop, start. Huh? Come back tomorrow…  I'll be talking about each of these "hows"!  

Reset

                Nearly every time I back out of the driveway, I need to pull ahead and start again. I always go out crooked.  It's especially annoying in the winter, when tire tracks swooping into the snow leave evidence.    When I do manage to back straight out in one try, I feel rather triumphant. But on an average day, I need pull ahead and try again. I need the reset.

                My life has needed a reset lately. Or, maybe not my life, but my spirit. My attitude. My thoughts.  This is such a strange time. I'm frustrated, sad, impatient. Angry.

                Not all the time, of course. My life is so good. And when friends and family ask me how I'm doing, I am so genuinely glad to see them that I answer, "Good!" (I know that's improper grammar. It just comes out.)  I love the cozy moments, the days when all the school work goes well, listening to Jessica's wedding plans, and watching Emmeline's movie debut.  I love how especially close Eric and I have become, and I love the way he continues to hope and plan for G.G.'s arrival.

                But sometimes it seemed there was a dullness over everything.  And I couldn't seem to get going on this blog.  How could I write passionately about helping the orphans when I didn't feel any passion?   I couldn't think of anything to say. I didn't want to write.

                I got my reset today.   It started with a devotional posted by another waiting mom… talking about waiting on God.  The scriptures resonated with me. Suddenly, I was reminded to take joy in the waiting, in this life, every part of it.  And words came to me again, and life seemed shinier.  And I wanted to write for the blog.

                I know I will waver again.  I know I will cry to God, and lean on Eric, and mourn for the child we don't have.  But I know God will hear me, and Eric will hold me, and however old she is when we get her., G.G. will be ours.  

Even When the Journey's Rough...

**This post is a re-run from my old blog. After yesterday's somber post, I decided I needed something fun, and this one is a good reminder to me that even when the journey's rough, the result can make it worth the ride.**

At the beginning of the month, we loaded up the car and headed for Maine.  We planned to take the scenic route; we couldn't get into the house until 3 o’clock anyway, and we’d been on the MassPike enough lately.  Less than 20 minutes into our drive, we came to a detour, or rather, a road closed and no clear detour indicated.  We went around and around the curvy, hilly roads, and eventually made our way into the next state.  The curvy, hilly roads were too much for Emmeline, however, who realized she needed Dramamine.  We couldn't find it in the car.  Next to her, Teddy threw up.

We stopped at the next biggish town (which didn't come soon enough) so we could get Dramamine, water, and a map.  Things were tense.  We stopped for gas. We drove off, spent a few minutes on a major highway, and pulled off to consult the map again.  Eric asked, “Where’d I put my wallet?" just as a car pulled up beside us and a very nice woman proceeded to tell us how she’d seen Eric’s wallet cling to the top of the car for a few minutes, then fly off onto the highway, scattering its contents in the breeze.

We drove back to the highway. Tense doesn't even describe the mood in the car.  We pulled to the side and with a stern warning to Emmeline to stay put, Eric and I walked along the side of the road, looking for all the important cards and things that had drifted into the weeds.  They must have been scattered for a mile.  We found everything important, however, and set off again.

The rest of the drive was fairly uneventful, thank goodness. And, of course, the end result was wonderful… a week’s vacation at one of my favorite places, with some of my favorite people.

 It reminded me of our trip to Ukraine to adopt Emmeline.  I’d never traveled to a foreign country (except Canada, which doesn't count because it’s only a few hours away).  I loved the flight, and I felt very worldly.  Even the hotel room, with its two narrow single beds, and the spigot shared between the bathtub and the sink, couldn't completely quell my excitement.  Until we went to what was then called the National Adoption Center.

We looked through stacks of binders with out-of-date pictures of children, so many children.  It was so much more overwhelming than I had expected.  At last, we decided to travel 16 hours by overnight train to meet a 4 year old girl.  Of course, it all turned out so well… that little girl became our daughter a week later. But there was a time during the early days of the trip when I was so terribly homesick, so confused, so tired and uncertain.  Our facilitators back home called my mom and dad and told them I could use a cheery call from home.  Somewhere, there is a picture of me sitting on the bed in pajamas, talking on the phone and crying.  I’m not entirely sure why Eric took it, but it does serve to document the trip from every angle.

It wasn't long before things felt right, we were in love with our daughter, the process was going smoothly, and we found a fantastic restaurant where we ate every night until we left the region.  When I remember our time in Ukraine, I don’t dwell on that brief low.  The rest of the trip and the ensuing years of parenthood make it all worthwhile.  Just like our week in Maine, which I remember as early morning walks on the beach, wave jumping in the afternoon, talking around the table (a favorite pastime in our family), and eating all our favorite vacation foods, I know there was more to Ukraine than a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad time.  There was laughter and love, lots of UNO, discovering new foods, and discovering new things about our daughter every day.

Connecting and Believing

Forgive my lack of blog posts... we've been away.  We had the privilege of meeting with other families who are in the same situation... it was a whirlwind weekend of late nights and early mornings, sharing photos and stories and tears.  It was a unique experience, forming brief but intense friendships, bonding over coffee discovered at the train station, having fifteen minute conversations that will grow into lifelong relationships.

And it was bittersweet… after this weekend, I came to the realization that we are somehow living in a dichotomy between belief that G.G. will come home and acknowledgement that we may be a part of something much bigger. I guess either way it comes down to faith… faith that God has this in control and it will all work out according to His will, whether it be for our good or for the good of many, many more.

It's been three months since we saw G.G.  What if... what if we never see her again? What if she never comes home? I've prayed for her to keep the hope that we will be coming for her. Should I instead be simply praying for her to have a good life?  During a time of group prayer, Eric spoke about God's will.  That's a brave prayer. God's will might not be our own.  But I continue to believe this situation will work out... either God will unite us with our daughter, or He will use these circumstances for something bigger and He will comfort and bless us throughout. 

It is a blessing to know so many other parents who are feeling the same way, hoping and grieving and remembering and wondering, all at the same time.

Waiting

Painting the Pink Room... Teddy likes to be in the midst of things.

Several months ago, our days were filled with cleaning and preparing the house for our home study visit, or gathering documents and getting them notarized, certified and apostilled.   I've lost track of how many times we've been fingerprinted.  And all the plans we made had the caveat "Well, if we're here then- we might be in Russia."  Then came the waiting. And waiting! Waiting for our documents to get to Russia. Waiting for them to be translated. Waiting for them to be submitted.  Waiting for a referral. And waiting for our travel dates.

I thought that waiting was so-o-o hard.

When we left our little girl in December, we were gearing up for round two of the paperwork… the court documents.  We planned to empty the closet in her room and otherwise prepare for her arrival. So much to do, and so little time!

Uh, no… lots of time. Lots and lots of time. And waiting. More waiting.

At the beginning of this journey, Em and I decided to celebrate our various achievements with ice cream.

I would much rather run around getting papers signed.  That was the easy part.  Or wait for a travel date. This waiting? This is hard. What brought me out of my funk was the realization that I needed to get busy. Call it "active waiting". There sure aren't as many papers to drive around but there's still a closet to be cleaned.  There are all sorts of household routines to be firmly established before we add another member to the family.  I realized I need to use this waiting time to advantage.  There's nothing wrong with celebrating the little steps, too. And when G.G. gets here, we'll be ready!

And completely over waiting. And celebrating!

The Backstory

A little background… we are the parents of two beautiful daughters- our youngest came home from Ukraine in 2001, when she was 4 years old.  For about ten years, I gave adoption just a passing thought, and then I started to feel nostalgic.  Not too long after the nostalgia, the desire to adopt again hit me! My husband didn't think we were meant to do it again, so I prayed and waited and advocated and, occasionally, dreamed.

Fast-forward a year. Just before Mother’s Day, I was powerfully hit by the desire to adopt… it seemed so real and exciting. I actually felt tingly.  Little did I know, the same day, Eric was making a decision. He was acknowledging the signs he’d been seeing, the change of heart he was feeling, and he was deciding.

 So when I showed broached the topic, and followed with something that could be interpreted as sarcastic, but I don’t think I meant it that way, and was really more a little desperate, anyway, when I said something along the lines of, “Not that it matters…”, he responded, “I wouldn't be so sure.” And left the room.

More tingles. Many questions.  “What do you mean?”

“I've been thinking.”

The next morning… he had to work and Em and I were going to a family party a couple of hours away… he said, as I left the bedroom, “If you want to get started on the home study, go ahead.”

!!!

That was a day of inner excitement, barely restrained. Surrounded by family, none  of whom knew what was going to happen (except Emmeline, who had some clues), anxious to get home and demand, “Do you really mean it?”, smiling to myself every time I thought about it… a long day- a good day, but a long one!

Here's the family, hanging out at a birthday party on May 12, having NO IDEA what thoughts are swirling in my head. 

And, yes! He did really mean it. And, boy, when Eric makes up his mind about something, hold on! He goes from zero to sixty in a couple of seconds. It was that way with our Ukrainian adoption, too.  Suddenly, he was excited, motivated, eager… what a Mother’s Day gift to me. J

G.G.

See that little girl on the right? Can't see much of her, can you? That's G.G. (She must have known I would want to use her picture publicly one day, because she tossed that hand up there in a "no pictures, please" kind of way when I was putting bows in her hair.  We're not allowed to share pictures of her publicly; luckily, she provided a nice anonymous one.)

G.G. is the nickname bestowed on her by her older sister-to-be. I decided years ago that if we ever had another daughter, I wanted to give her the middle name "Grace", because of God's grace and what it has meant to me. Emmeline said this little girl was a gift of God's grace to us, and began calling her G.G.  (I pictured it "Gigi" but was told I was wrong. It's short for God's Grace, so it has to be G.G. J )

G.G. is sweet and spunky, a bundle of energy, a "slam-dunk fit in the family," my husband said.   It's for her that the spare bedroom was reorganized and painted pink.  We pictured a very girly-pink little girl.  In reality, her favorite color is purple! And she loves playing "airplane" with her papa (she's the airplane- he flies her around the room).  But she wants a doll with long hair, and she likes to dress up, and she loves attention, so I'm guessing she'll be okay with a room made pink just for her!

We're hopeful she will be sleeping in that room someday. Putting on her pretty clothes. Playing with her doll.  Getting hugs and kisses from Papa and Mama and big sister Emmeline.   And then she'll know just what a gift from God she is.

Treasures

Two years ago, I started a blog I called "Treasures," about orphans and our adoption journey a decade earlier.  I hoped to help orphans somewhere, somehow. And in the process of advocating, I came to realize I wanted to adopt again. Nine months ago, we began the process... paperwork, home study, fingerprints,  background check. Our documents eventually made their way to Russia, and we followed a few months later.

I don't know when we'll go back. I do think we will. In the meanwhile, I'll do some more writing, do some more advocating, and wait for the next step to be made clear.  So, why don't I just continue with the old blog?

I stopped writing for it shortly after we started the adoption process.  I felt there were too many reasons to keep things quiet. And in the last nine months, I've learned a lot more about international adoption (the Russian version, anyway) and "met" many wonderful people through the Internet,  people whose privacy I want to respect.  In many cases, I'd written about the children who were to be theirs. And while I love that connection and would love to share "the rest of the story," I do believe it is their story to tell.

There are simply too many posts to remove and too many changes to make, so I'm starting fresh. New blog, new title, new drive, new stories.  (I'm not above re-using some of my old posts, however, so some of you may recognize them!)

I'm going to try to be more organized, and to post on a regular schedule. You may hold me accountable. J

What Are We Going to Do with a Pink Room?

We are in the process of adopting a beautiful little girl from Russia.  "Wait," you may be thinking, "aren't Russian adoptions closed to Americans now?" Yes, yes, they are. But she's still there, and we have hope that someday, she will be here, and until that day arrives, we will be "in process."

This has been an unreal time  We had just returned from our first trip, from meeting her and loving on her and telling her we'd be back  when suddenly, instead of praying for a speedy court date and smooth sailing, we're simply praying we will have her someday.

A couple of months ago, I asked my husband, "So now what are we going to do with a pink room?"  A ridiculous question in the middle of a ridiculous situation.  A way of acknowledging the possibility that that pink room might not be occupied by our little girl, without coming right out and saying, "What if she doesn't come home?"  A way of expressing the feeling that room (so lovingly and excitedly prepared) now often evokes- "what about all the months of planning and dreaming? are they to be wasted?"  An unspoken question- "how long do we keep this bedroom pink and little-girlish and empty? Will it become a shrine to the daughter that never was?"

Sometime later, I met a friend for coffee at the local book store.  It was the first time we'd really talked since the News.  She asked how we were doing and I shared our conversation about the pink room, asking the question with a self-deprecating smile and maybe a hint of tears.

And she had an answer.  "Use it for your orphan advocacy.  Do your writing there.  Store your collected donations."

Use it.

Welcome to The Pink Room.  Here you'll meet us and learn about our passion for orphans.  You'll hear about our daughters, those in the U.S and the one still waiting to come.  And you'll discover the ways you can help the orphans, too.