Shoes for Sergey!!!!

We are CRAZY EXCITED to announce that we have found the fundraiser to beat all fundraisers. We gather up used shoes (no matter HOW OLD or beat down, no matter what kind - sandals, cleats, tennis shoes, dress shoes, whatever) and then we send them to this organization (amazing group started by the guy who started Soles4souls). We collect bags with 25 pairs of shoes each, and if we can collect 300 bags we can earn $3000 towards our adoption fund!!! They send the shoes to poorer countries and use them to bless the folks there, both by providing shoes as well as jobs, since they will restore the shoes before they distribute them. THE ULTIMATE WIN-WIN!!!! I have flyers to hand out, bags to give out, huge collection boxes that can be placed anywhere you suggest, posters, etc, and now we just need your help . We would LOVE for you to ask your friends/neighbors/co-workers for shoes and gather up as many as you can. We are also looking for anyone who might have ideas of where we could collect larger amounts, like from an office/church/organization. If you would just take a few minutes to think through any ideas you might have for us/any people you know who might have shoes they could contribute/anyone you could share this with who might be able to help/anywhere we might be able to stick up one of our flyers/pray that this will be an amazing success, we would be SOOOO grateful!!!! 

I would also just like to add a little bit to make sure that God gets the glory on this one - Clint received an email about this a few weeks ago. It was out of the blue, and we have no idea how he got on the email list that went out.  We were trying to figure out where it came from, and were so happy to be able to say that it truly came from God :-).  He is taking care of raising this money to bring us to Sergey - and He is doing it through all of you.  We are WILDLY grateful to Him and to you.  Seeing how He has provided through each and every one of you, and being showered by your love and support, has been my FAVORITE part of this journey (well, except of course, getting to adopt Sergey ;-). LOVE!!!

Liv

I read an article recently about how there is a indirect correlation between the amount of time that you spend on Facebook and the amount of happiness and satisfaction in your life - the more time on Facebook, the less happiness you experience.  One of the main points was this: everyone posts their pictures, stories, etc, at their very best.  We only see the tiny little window of perfect life posted in shiny color, and then we extrapolate to assume that everyone is living that perfect life all the time, while we plod away in our dull, every day, I have to make-lunches-clean-the-house-go-to-the-store lives.  We all know this isn't true, but apparently the more you look at it, the more unhappy you will become.

However, I thought more about this today and thought about the fact that we just need to be able to see these glimpses with the right eyes, and then we could actually increase our happiness by looking at Facebook.  Over the last months, since I have moved from Facebook reader to Facebook poster, I have often felt the urge to post when something great happens. It is not that I want to brag, or want anyone else to feel bad that they did not experience what I just did. I don't want to engender jealousy, and I definitely don't want anyone to be sad.  I just want to share the joy.  It's like when you bite into a super yummy dessert and you want everyone else at the table to take a bite and see just how amazing it is. Or you see a rainbow and you want to tell everyone to look up at the sky. Or the way that the males in my family always feel that I need to come into the living room where the TV is, stop whatever I am doing in the kitchen or elsewhere in the house, and "watch this AWESOME play."  We just want others to share in our joy, and for some of us at home with kids, or alone at work, or whatever, the easiest/only way to share that in the moment with a whole bunch of people might be to post it on Facebook.

The reason I was thinking about this was that I really wanted to post a picture of Liv on her first day of school today.  She looked absolutely beautiful in her uniform.  She is just truly a picture of loveliness, both inside and out, and I felt like my heart would burst looking at her as she headed out the door to her new school.  For those of you who know us, you know that this road has been long and hard for everyone involved, especially Liv, and to see her head out so bravely to this new part of her journey, ready to embrace what lies ahead, filled me with such pride.  Without complaint, she has given up her cute wardrobe for a uniform (but she still looks SOOOO cute!!!), read the Odyssey (and fully annotated it), spent a week this summer at Latin boot camp (yes, I said Latin boot camp), and left behind everything she has known since kindergarten to embark on this new journey.  She has been willing to pour herself immediately into new friendships, into new buildings, into new languages, into new everything, and she has done it with the same grace and beauty that she brings to everything she does.  However, like I said, it was not an easy road for her to get here. And there were sacrifices made by all involved.  We were supported so very strongly by so many dear friends, praying that God would show us the right place for our daughter to develop into the young woman that He wants her to be (and we are SOOO grateful to each of you!!).  We were given a wildly generous scholarship, so that we could send her there in the midst of a very expensive adoption.  We were prayed for and prayed for and prayed for.  We were encouraged, loved on, asked about, and loved on some more.  So this day was such a true gift, in every sense of the word. Just a gift, given to us by our dear Father in heaven.

When I was a kid and I would get a present for Christmas or my birthday that I really loved, I would immediately grab it, jump up and down, run around like crazy, yell and scream, hug my mom, hug my dad, clap my hands, and basically go nuts. (The truth is, I still do that, and if you'd like to see, feel free to give me a gift anytime - I love presents ;-).  I wanted everyone to see it - I wanted to call my friends and tell them about it.  It's the natural reaction, I think, to having something given to you that you find lovely - you just want to share it.  It's the reason we crazy Christians want to tell people about Jesus - we just want everyone to share Him.  So I think when people post super fun awesome things on Facebook, it's not because they want to brag, or make other people jealous, or show off what they have - I think it is just the modern day equivalent of running around your house, jumping up and down and showing everyone your present.  So today, I'd like to jump up and down and clap my hands and show you the amazing, incredible, indescribably wonderful daughter (who by the way now goes by Liv) that God gave us as a gift 14 years ago.  We are not bragging, because we did not make her. We are celebrating the one who gave her to us, the one who did make her, the one who continues to lavish her with love.  Please celebrate with us and share in our joy (and see how cute she looks in her uniform :-). We love you Livvy Grace.  More than you will ever know.

You Were Made for This

This past week we had the blessing of spending the last week of summer at my parents' lake house at Smith Mountain Lake. We allowed the kids to each bring one friend, so we had a full house and tons of fun.  On one of the nights we were there, a rain storm passed through just as the sun was setting. The air got cooler, but we didn't have any lightning or thunder, just rain.  A few of the kids really wanted to go knee boarding, and we had just come in from the boat, so I offered to take them on the wave runner.  As I was driving the wave runner in the chilly rain with the darkness beginning to close in, something hit me that I have been thinking about ever since.  It was this simple - "I love this, and would rather be doing this than anything else, right now."  I can think of many, many people who would not have been happy doing what I was doing - too cold, too wet, already been on the lake all day, super hungry, just-want-to-sit-on-the-dock-and-read-my-book.  For me, though, I am the person who wants to be out on the lake.  Even in the rain. And the cold.  I just want to.  Especially if it involves driving the wave runner. At high speeds :-).

Here is why this struck me:  There are so many other things that I see moms doing and wish so desperately that I were that mom.  I wish my kids had scrapbooks, or even a baby book (or cute pictures from every first day of school holding those cute signs!!!).  I wish I wrote notes and put them in their lunches. I wish that every night I tucked them in and sang to them in a beautiful voice.  I wish I read the Bible with them more, prayed with them more.  I wish I told them more often that I love them.  I wish our house was always clean, or I always cooked dinner, or I didn't have days where I just cannot deal with them and just want them to leave me alone so I can be sad.  I wish I were kinder.  More patient.  More encouraging. A better listener.  I wish they always felt safe and always knew they could tell me anything.  I wish I were less critical. Less judgmental.  Less quick to tell them what to do and then less quick to be mad at them when they don't follow my advice.  More of so many things and less of so many other things.

Now please hear me that I am NOT saying that I shouldn't try harder to be a better mom and love my kids better in so many ways. It is not okay for me to just say "Oh well, I'm a critical person and my kids are just going to have to get over it." I need to pray for God to change me, and to make conscious decisions to hold my tongue when I'd rather not.  I TOTALLY realize that, and I am not AT ALL excusing my sin by saying, "Oh that's just my personality."  What I AM SAYING is that I would like to celebrate that God made me as someone who wants to drive the wave runner in the cold rain.  I don't have to tell myself, "The kids really want to do this and so I need to do it, whether or not I want to." (There are plenty of those times in my life as well!!)  Instead, I honestly want to do it.  It made me so thankful to God, that He created me in this exact way, to be the exact parent He wants me to be.  And instead of looking at all the folks out there doing all the crafty, creative, beautiful things that they are doing and wishing that was me, I was just so happy that I could be driving that wave runner. And loving it.

I have been rejoicing even more in this as the days have passed, thinking about how adopting Sergey fits into this.  My game-playing, adrenaline-seeking tendencies work out so well.  Most games can be played without a common language, and they bring a unique kind of bonding (and BOY HOWDY I have played a lot of games with that boy).  And the fact that I have never made a single scrap book for my kids or even a baby book just means that he won't be the only one in the family who doesn't have one ;-).  Young Life re-branded themselves a few years back with the slogan "You were made for this," and that is the phrase that came to mind as I zoomed around that cove at Smith Mountain Lake with the raindrops pelting my face, covered in goosebumps.  I was made for this, for being the mom that Liv, Harry and Sam need, and one day soon, for being the mom that Sergey needs.  And being the wife that Clint needs, since my drive for adrenaline allows him to sit on the dock and read ;-).

PS - I just reread this and before I post it, I would like to add one post-script.  I feel like I read things often that women have written about their lives - as friends, or moms, or wives, or whatever - and end up feeling worse about myself after reading them.  Please hear me that I truly, TRULY TRULY want this to be the opposite for you, if you feel that.  Hear this instead: those of you who know me well know how DEEPLY I struggle with feelings of insufficiency, with an inability to see anything good in myself, with a desperate desire to be anyone but me (and now all of you know :-).  So this blog is NOT about me bragging or telling everyone how great I am just because I like to drive wave runners. It is a thank you note to God, an answer to prayer, a praise that I want to share with everyone, because here, in this one little thing, I saw the love and kindness of God towards me, and actually believed it in my heart.  So if you are discouraged, I challenge you to think of one thing, even a tiny small thing like the fact that you love watching movies, or enjoy reading historical fiction, or adore eating chocolate, or are fantastic at organizing, or think that cooking is beautiful, or are awesome at knitting - and ask God to show you how He is using that in your life.  Because it IS true:  You were made for this.

Rescued, ransomed, redeemed

I had the great privilege of being part of something this morning that truly lifted me right up close to the gates of heaven.  Not to be too dramatic, but I am certain that if we had all listened carefully we could have heard the angels rejoicing.  Our friends welcomed a young man into their house exactly one year ago out of the foster care system, and today was the day that he officially became their son.  I want to write a letter to them, and to brag on them a bit, I want to bring you all in. It makes me so proud to be their friend, and so thankful that we are part of the same family in Christ. I wish each one of you could know them - they are my heroes.  Here's to you, Jason and Amara:

Dear, dear friends,

I know I am known for my tendency to exaggerate, which I don't mind. However, now is when I hate having that reputation, because I think people write me off a bit - Oh that's just Jen and she's crazy.  So I want to say THIS IS NO EXAGGERATION. I will literally, as long as I live, and certainly into eternity, NEVER EVER EVER forget this morning.  I truly think it is the closest I have come to experiencing the heart of God, and I think it was my best preview of what heaven will be like.  And I just want to thank you from the depth of my soul for allowing me and my family to be a part of such a beautiful, intimate moment.

As you sat there in the courtroom, lined up in a little row with your family behind that railing, I was desperately trying to take as many as I could of what Sam's teacher last year called "mental pictures" (she was trying to discourage kids from bringing expensive phones and cameras on the field trip at the time - the Henrico County Court does more than just discourage them, so unfortunately my pictures had to be in my mind :-).  It's part of the reason I want to write about it here, so I can always remember just what it was like. Jason, you sat there on the left, with your sugary-so-sweet-I -could-literally-eat-you daughter on your lap.  To your right was your handsome, brave, I-so-want-to-squeeze-you-but-that-would-make-you-die-of-embarassment-since-you're-13 son, and then to his right was your gorgeous, beautiful, lovely, graceful wife, with her long curly locks hanging behind her and your little tiny mini-me baby in her arms.  You all looked so beautiful it was almost hard to watch, I almost felt like I should look away.  But I could NOT look away, especially as that sweet little girl of yours continued to pat her new now-official big brother on his back.  His broad shoulders in his handsome sport coat, the backdrop for her tiny hand repeatedly patting and rubbing him.  She couldn't possibly have understood what was happening, but somehow I think she did.  When he reached over with his hand and took her little hand in his, I admit that I did let out a little gasp (but immediately sensed from the 14 year old next to me that it needed to stop :-).

The judge entered, in his flowing black robe, and sat behind his big tall desk.  He spoke, but not in the voice I had expected, and definitely what he said was NOT what I had expected.  He welcomed us all warmly, he was so joyful that we were all there.  He spoke almost as a grandfather or uncle, someone who knew you and loved you and was so grateful that you were there.  I thought about this while he was speaking, and thought about the fact that he, more than most people in the room, knew EXACTLY what you were rescuing your son from, what could have happened to him had you not stepped in and brought him close, given him a family.  He invited folks to come up and share.  He gave you PRESENTS.  He spoke kindly, almost intimately, to each and every one of you, and particularly to this young boy.  He encouraged him, charged him, comforted him, challenged him.

When you and your wife and your boy spoke, I almost had to leave the room.  I felt like I couldn't even breathe, like my brain and heart just couldn't take it in, because what was happening was so amazing I just didn't know how to keep from sobbing very loudly and uncontrollably, which would probably cause my daughter to never speak to me again.  Your words of love and encouragement to him were breathtaking.  But his words were so beautiful I think they literally broke my heart.  To think what his life has been, to think of the heartache he has endured, and then to see him stand up there, so handsome and brave in his suit, taking his deep breaths and speaking slowly about what you mean to him and what your family has done for him - how is that even possible that anyone could do that? For him to talk about being new to being a Christian, about his belief in God, his love for you, and then to end that by diving into your arms in the best hug I have ever seen - just, thank you again for letting me have that in my heart to think on whenever I need a physical picture of love.  Ummmmm - even Clint cried - but don't tell him I told you.

I am sure that there were (and maybe still are?) people who think you are crazy for bringing him into your family, considering the full plate God had already given you.  But I have to tell you that from the first time you told me about him (I can still remember EXACTLY where I was standing when you told me the whole story, the few days before he came), I just knew that it was right. Amara, you said today that you knew God would bring to you the family that He had for you, and it could NOT POSSIBLY BE MORE OBVIOUS that this is your family. Who knows if He is done, but for right now, He has given you these three, and there is no doubt.  Like the judge said, life in a family has its UPS and its DOWNS and I know you (like all of us!) will have plenty of each.  But for right now, for tonight, it is really hard to imagine any downs.  It feels like you have lifted us all up with you, and we might never come back down.

Thank you so much. As I sit here and literally sob (thankfully no one is home ;-), thank you.  Thank you for being brave enough to do what very, VERY few people in the world would EVER have done.  Thank you for grabbing this boy, for pulling him so close to you, for wrapping your arms around him, for lavishing your love all over him, for being willing to be his parents now and his friends later, for dreaming of what he will be, for trusting God in all the details that could so easily (and understandably) have led you to say no when you were asked.  I know it's cheesy (but let's face it, so am I), but I love that line "You make me want to be a better man." I would say that applies perfectly here - you make me want to be a better parent, a braver Christian, a more sacrificial lover of people.  You are not showy, you are not flashy, you do not flaunt what you have done (I had to BEG you to let me use your names and include your picture!).  You have quietly and at great sacrifice to yourself literally SHOWERED love on the least of these.  You have shown me, in flesh and blood, what it is that my Savior did for me - rescued me, redeemed me, ransomed me. He took me from the worst place possible and brought me into a place of love, of acceptance, of life forever after.  He gave his life for me, and in many ways you have given, and will continue to give, your life to this boy. Your brave son expressed today in his speech his gratefulness for the knowledge that he will spend forever and ever with God - you put skin and bones on that idea for me today.  Thank you so so so very much for inviting me into your life, and letting us peek with you behind the curtains of heaven this morning.  I love you five oh so very much. And seriously, look at this picture. Who wouldn't love you?????

What are you afraid of?

There are two other young folks from Sergey's orphanage who were hosted this past winter and are in the process of being adopted. One of them is the same age as Sergey and had the same crazy paperwork mix-up that Sergey did, so he was hosted again this summer.  The other host/adoptive parents and I are in pretty regular contact, and this boy has become quite fluent in English, so sometimes we are able to find things out through him that we would not be able to discover from Sergey.  This past week, we finally found out why we have not been able to reach Sergey by phone since he has returned to Ukraine - his phone is broken :-(.  This makes me sad, since I don't think we will buy him another one - it was QUITE expensive and we should probably just keep putting all of our money towards our adoption costs.  Also, I think the conversations might have been somewhat stressful for him since he is not much of a talker and speaks no English :-).  We had our friend Emmanuel translate for us, but the conversations were still pretty short.  The other boy has offered to let us use his phone every once in a while to talk to Sergey, so I think that is what we will do from now on, just to be able to hear his voice and remind him that we are here and that we love him :-).

The fact that his phone is broken is not what has been continually running through my mind since we found out, however.  Instead, I cannot stop thinking about what the other boy told his host mom - he said "Sergey's phone broke and he didn't want to tell you because he was afraid."  Oh that crushed me.  Why is he afraid? What is he afraid of?  What have we done to make him fearful of us? Will he ever not be afraid? Has what he has experienced in his life shaped him into someone who will always be afraid? Will his fear shape the decisions he makes in his future?  Will it keep him from deciding to come be a part of our family? Will our love ever be enough to overcome his fears? And will his fear keep him from ever believing just how much we love him?????

I pondered those questions for a few days, and then one afternoon in the middle of nowhere it hit me that I am not so different. I may not have grown up in an orphanage, but I too make so many decisions based on fear.  Fear that someone won't like me. Fear that something bad will happen to my children.  Fear that I will lose my health.  Fear that I am not "doing enough" as a follower of Jesus.  And then deeper questions started whizzing through my head.  Does my fear keep me from believing that my friends/family love me? Does my fear keep me from believing how much my heavenly Father loves me?  And if I am honest I have to admit that it does.  I am so afraid that I am not doing enough, doing the "right" things, saying the "right" things, eating the "right" things, parenting the "right" way, loving my husband the "right" way, that I am paralyzed.  I run around trying to do all these "right" things, and instead of just REJOICING in the fact that I am wonderfully and perfectly created, loved deeply by my Father in heaven and lots of amazing people here on earth, I scurry around trying to earn the love that I already have.

So from now on, whenever I worry that Sergey will ever believe that we love him, I am going to try not only to pray for him that he will know that we do (and believe it all the way down to his cute little Ukrainian toes), I am going to pray that I will know, really KNOW, that God loves me, and loves me no matter what I do or don't do.  I am sure that you cannot relax and enjoy love as long as you are afraid, and as for Sergey and I, I will be praying that God will take away our fear and allow the deep love we have been given to penetrate our hearts.  I will pray this for you as well, if you want me to - just let me know :-).

Pic taken at orphanage by family adopting this sweet girl when they were there a few weeks ago. WHAT A TREAT to get to see these dear faces - thanks again Gary!!!

Our Story with Sergey

I know that a lot of you already know our story, but I have had several people who have seen bits and pieces ask me to share it, so here it is :-).  Both Clint and I have always thought that we would adopt at some point in our lives - even when we were kids and before we ever met.  When we decided to start a family, we considered adopting right away, but were given the VERY wise advice from a dear friend that (for many reasons that we would be happy to share with any of you!) we should start down the road of getting pregnant if that is what God had for us.  That was a long and rocky road for us (again, a story for another time :-), but it ended in the joyous birth of tiny, sweet little Olivia Grace, quickly followed by Harry Clinton and and then quickly after that, Samuel Wallace (if you'd like to hear my copy machine theory on how that all happened so quickly, you can ask me that later as well :-).  ANYWAY, after that we felt that if we added another child to our family at that point, we might never catch our breaths enough to pursue our dream of adoption, so we took some actions to turn off the copy machine.

Seriously. 

About 6 years later we finally got our feet back under us (yes, it took us 6 years - no judgment please :-), and decided to pursue adoption.  God granted us a wonderful social worker who was willing to jump on the crazy train and see where He was taking us.  She wrote us a home study that stayed open until we figured out who God was calling to come join the Dowdas.  That train took us all over the place.  There were times when I wanted to get off. Times I did get off and did not want to get back on.  Times when I wanted to get on a different train and never look back.  We came very close to several different adoptions - including a 4 year old boy from Ethiopia, a 2 year old little girl from North Carolina, a baby with Down Syndrome who was still in utero in Florida, a 9 year old girl from Ethiopia, and a 5 year old little boy living here in Richmond.  After each time God closed the door, I wondered if God really wanted us to do this, or if He was telling us not to adopt.  Finally, after years of this, we decided to take a break.  I had a Facebook friend who was hosting a young man for one month over the winter through an organization called New Horizons for Children (NHFC).  I read her posts and thought that maybe this was something we could do, to care for and love an orphan.  I called to inquire about an older girl who was "host only" (children cannot be adopted once they are 16 years old and this young lady was hoping to come and figure out a way to come to university in the United States).  They told me she was available and asked if I wanted to put her on hold. It was a Friday afternoon, and I told them that I needed to talk once more to my husband and pray about it, and I would call back on Monday.  We decided to go for it, and then when I called on Monday another family had already put her on hold.  I took a deep breath and decided to just take my foot back off the train.

Fast forward a year ahead.  The fall came around again and I saw another post about NHFC. I thought "I'll just look at the pictures."  They have a website that has hundreds of small pictures of all the children who are available for hosting, along with a little bio on each child.  As I clicked through all the sweet, heart-wrenching faces, I kept wondering "How will we know? How will we know who to host? How will we know if we should host a child available for adoption, or if we should just do host only?"  Since then, I have heard of many stories of folks who felt that God told them exactly which child was "theirs'", and I think that is so beautiful and amazing.  That was not the case for us, but I do not think that God was any less involved in our decision making.  If you want to know the whole process we went through in deciding, you can ask us, but the one thing that still makes me smile is how his bio included this statement: "He would like to learn how to play tennis."  In case you don't know, my job is coaching tennis, and so I really think this is one way that God pointed us to the boy that God had chosen us to love.  He had a $800 scholarship attached to him (someone who really wanted him to be hosted had donated money to help ensure that he would be chosen), and the cutest picture ever, and the rest is history :-).

His NHFC website picture :-). 

We counted down the days, gathered up clothes and Christmas presents, and waited for him to come.  On December 18th, 2012 at 11:44 pm, we picked him up from the train station at BWI.  It was cold, and the lobby was closed since it was so late.  We stood there with our sign, holding the stuffed animal they told us we should bring, wondering how our lives were about to change.  He got off the train, looking so sweet but so frightened, so exhausted, so overwhelmed.  We said hello and hugged him, but we knew he didn't speak any English so our conversation ended after hello :-). We got in our car and used Google translate on our phone to try to figure out if he wanted to eat, needed to use the restroom, etc, since we had a few hours to drive home.  We were so struck by his gentle manner, his shy smile, and his easy-going nature.  It felt just right, from the very beginning. It felt like he belonged with us.

Picking him up at BWI train station at midnight.

He was with us for a month, a month filled with so much joy.  We played soccer, basketball, tennis, and lacrosse.  We went to the beach with family, went to Great Wolf Lodge, went to the movies, went all over the place.  We swam, we ran, we biked, we danced, we played games. We watched many, many episodes of America's Funniest Videos, the one show that transcends language.  We listened to Zac Brown Band everywhere we went.  We baked cookies and pumpkin bread. We heard the kids SCREAM as they played Xbox Kinect Sports and Sergey threw the javelin completely out of the stadium.  We had Nerf gun wars, played hide-and-seek, and mulched the entire yard.  We won a Wally Ball Tournament.  It was the best month any of us had ever had, and it almost killed us when he left. I couldn't pass by his bedroom door and had to sleep downstairs for a while.  Liv didn't even want to come home, since he was supposed to be here but he wasn't.  It was hard.

At the train station saying good-bye.

We knew without a doubt, without a conversation, that we wanted to pursue adoption. Clint had made some calls before Sergey had arrived as to whether or not he would be available for adoption (I had assumed he would be since he was not labeled as "host only").  Sadly, we ended up finding out that he was not available.  He needed to be on the national registry for a year in order to be adopted internationally, and unfortunately he had not been placed on that list when he had entered the orphanage as a little boy.  We worked to get him on that list, but it didn't officially happen until February, so we knew we would be waiting at least until February 2013 before we could start the process of adoption.  However, at that point, we knew that WE wanted to adopt him, but we didn't know if HE wanted to be adopted by us.  In Ukraine, the final decision as to whether the child can be adopted or not is given to the child himself, so we needed to know how he felt about it.  On the plane ride on the way back to the Ukraine from the United States, the chaperone asked Sergey if he would want to be adopted by us, and he said (in typical non-emotional Sergey fashion): "I would not object to that."  :-).

OBX Wally Ball 2013 Champions.

We hosted him again this summer, from the end of June through the end of July.  Again, it was a glorious month, full of fun and laughter, laced with heartache.  We were able to talk about adoption this time, and he confirmed what he had said earlier, that he would like to be adopted.  In case you are wondering how this conversation was able to happen without a common language, it was with the AMAZING help of our friend Emmanuel.  A mutual friend put us in contact with him, but it was definitely a God-ordained connection.  Emmanuel had moved here 11 years ago from Ukraine, and is a pastor here in Richmond.  He and his wife and two sweet boys have become an integral part of our story and we are beyond grateful for them and their kindness to us and Sergey.  He also helps us talk to Sergey when he is in Ukraine - we had a phone sent to him and we have a three-way conversation once every few weeks, where we check in and see how he is, and to let him know we are still here and are still coming for him :-).  As many of you know, he is not a huge conversationalist, but hearing his voice is the best thing ever.  Ever.

Corolla Family Reunion pic

So this brings us up to today, and the few posts that I have posted since he has been gone.  We just found out that he will be off the registry on March 2, 2014, so that will be the date that we can officially start the process of adopting him.  We have a finalized home study and I600 that we just sent off this week, and will start working on our dossier soon. We don't want to have it done too early, or it could expire before we are able to complete the adoption.  One other wrinkle is that you cannot be adopted in Ukraine if you are 16 (he turns 16 on July 29th). However, if you have submitted certain forms before the child turns 16, you can still complete the adoption, so unless there are other extenuating circumstances, we should be okay even if he turns 16 during the process.  As you probably also know, adoption is not cheap. The grand total for the whole process, including our three hosting times, is $42, 490. Of that total, we have already raised $19,612.  We will continue to work towards our goal, praying for folks to come along side of us in this journey, knowing that God will provide.

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These were the bare details - there are so very many layers of story, of details, of decisions, of blessing, underneath and above all of these details, and we are always happy to talk to anyone about them.  Our hope in sharing this journey with you is that you might be encouraged in some way - to trust God in something He is calling you to, to reach out and love one of the many orphans in our world, to engage in supporting justice to help children be able to stay with their families, or just to believe that God loves you DESPERATELY and has a plan for your life, whether you are at a place right now of great hardship or great blessing.  We have definitely experienced both along the way, and I am convinced that the valleys and peaks are just going to get lower/higher as we continue to love this dear boy that God has given us to love, however that is going to look.  We hope you will join us for our journey and invite us into each of yours.  I think it's going to be quite a ride.

I Wanna Sungle

Quick break from picture moments - back on that another day.  Tonight I have been thinking about the beauty of touch, of closeness, of being created in a body that can be completely transformed by one touch from another body.  God is so cool that He made us this way :-).  When Sam was little, he loved to be held, to hug us, to climb into our laps.  He was definitely our most physically affectionate child and still is.  One of my favorite things he used to say was "Mama, I wanna sungle" - he couldn't quite get out the word "snuggle" correctly. He would stick his thumb in his mouth, wrap himself up in the soft purple sheet he used to sleep with, and just try to get as close to me as he possibly could. Most of the time it felt like he would have crawled into my skin if he could have.

When Sergey was here, there were times when I almost had to walk away from him because I didn't think I could restrain myself from hugging him tightly and not letting him go. I can't even describe the feeling, but it came from deep, deep within - this need to wrap him in my arms and just hold him.  When I would walk by him sitting in a chair I would reach out and just touch him on the arm.  I would pat him on the shoulder or back or squeeze his arm gently whenever it seemed even remotely appropriate (telling him I was proud of him for something, etc.). I LOVED doing Rosetta Stone with him because we would sit on the couch and work on the laptop together and inevitably our arms would touch as we were working.  I loved meal times when we would hold hands and pray - I would always try to get the seat next to his.

I love to hug my kids, to kiss them, to rub their backs, to hold their hands.  I never knew how much that meant to me, how much I loved it, until there was this grown up boy in my home and in my heart who I loved so desperately, who might be uncomfortable with my touch.  Who might not have always have experienced touch as a positive thing.  What is it deep within us that makes touch so lovely, so essential?  Why does a hug connect us like nothing else?

I was always struck as a child with the stories about lepers in the Bible, how no one but Jesus would touch them, and how His touch brought healing to their unending loneliness.  I want to be able to hug Sergey every day, every hour, and yet he is so far away.  My prayer is that Jesus, who could touch those who no one else could touch, will touch him, wrap his arms around him, and heal him.  And I'm starting to think that when he is here at Christmas, I might just hug him a lot more and hope he's okay with it :-).