Congo Adventures Day 5--Hair &Fabric

Thursday, October 25, 2012:

We traveled to Congo with four large suitcases: two filled with donations, one for Bobby and me, and one for Addy. And let me tell you, that girl had a LOT of clothes! We had packed extra outfits in anticipation of the stomach issues we'd been warned about, which unfortunately turned out to be a very accurate prediction. We'd also been told that Addy was wearing size 2T at just eight months old! I certainly hadn't been prepared for that, considering I already had all these adorable little 12-month outfits washed and ready for her. So, just to be safe, I brought clothing ranging from nine months all the way up to 24 months.

One of the outfits I packed was the very first matching outfit Ayla had picked out for her little sister. Unfortunately, it was a size 12 months! I was determined to see Addy wear it anyway, so I squeezed her into it despite the rather obvious size problem. Not exactly my brightest idea, and the outfit lasted all of a couple of hours! But at least I got to see her wearing something her big sister had lovingly picked out for her.

After our usual breakfast buffet with A and Josee, we headed back to the room for a quick snooze. Well, at least Bobby and Addy did. I watched a movie while the two of them slept, and judging by the amount of sleeping they did that week, I think Daddy got in more than his fair share of cuddles! ;)

 

I had also come to Congo with a brilliant plan regarding Addy's hair: I simply wasn't going to touch it until we got home. The nannies had arranged it into the cutest little puffs, and since I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, I figured it was best to leave well enough alone. Surely, her hair could survive a few more days without any help from me.

Well, that plan didn't last long!

The thread holding her little puffs together began breaking, and before I knew it, several sections were coming loose. I decided that rather than letting the whole thing fall apart, I had better figure out how to take care of her hair. Somehow!

So off to the bathtub we went again. This time, I blew up the little inflatable bathtub we had brought along (thanks, Mary!!!), and Addy LOVED it! What a difference from our first attempt at bathing her! I let her sit and splash for a while before tackling the shampoo and conditioner.

(She really did like the tub----but was still very leery of the camera!) 

The one thing I knew before traveling to Congo was CONDITION, CONDITION, CONDITION! So I lathered her sweet skin with lotion and generously applied leave-in conditioner to her hair. Much to my surprise, combing through her curls was incredibly easy, and she seemed to thoroughly enjoy the little head massage.

I decided to leave her hair alone for a while and let her sport a cute little fro. Of course, that only lasted until after lunch, when I couldn't resist getting my hands back into it and arranging it into a few little puffs. I still had plenty to learn, but I was having so much fun figuring it out!

After another nap, we headed downstairs to wait for D, who was supposed to pick us up for an afternoon outing. Our plan was to visit a fabric store and, hopefully, a local market. D had told us to expect him around 2:00, so we were downstairs right on time, although by now we knew better than to expect that everything would happen according to schedule!

After waiting about half an hour, we decided to order a Coke. Naturally, just as our drinks arrived, so did D. But unfortunately, he wasn't there to take us shopping.

The one major hurdle we still needed to clear before leaving Congo was obtaining Addy's exit letter. We had been told to expect the letter within four working days of our arrival in the country, and we were hoping it would be ready that afternoon. Once we had it in hand, we could finally relax a little and know we could leave on Sunday as planned.

Unfortunately, D arrived with some disappointing news. The DGM, Congo's migration officials, would not release Addy's and Josee's exit letters unless we paid an additional fee. So we handed over the money and settled in for another round of waiting while D went to take care of the paperwork. He promised to return afterward and, if there was still enough time, take us on our outing.

About an hour later, D and M, our driver, returned, and we were FINALLY off to do a little Congolese shopping!

The fabric store was only a few blocks away, so it wasn't long before we were out of the hotel and walking among the hustle and bustle of the city. I was thrilled to have the opportunity to experience a little more of Kinshasa beyond the walls of our hotel.

The store itself was rather small, but there were at least twenty people inside, all searching for the perfect fabric. And WOW, were there choices! From floor to ceiling, the shop was filled with rows upon rows of beautiful, colorful African prints. There were so many patterns that I hardly knew where to begin!

We spent about forty minutes taking it all in and deciding which fabrics to buy. Every time I thought I had found my favorite, another pattern would catch my eye. In the end, I simply couldn't choose, so I bought six yards each of four different prints!

While we shopped, M happily held Addy. It was so sweet to see how much love the ALBB in-country staff had for her and all the other children. The moment we stepped out of the vehicle, M asked if he could hold her, and he spent the entire time walking around with her, smiling from ear to ear.

Once we finished shopping, we climbed back into the Jeep and began another bumpy drive through the city. Unfortunately, D told us that we wouldn't be visiting the market after all. He still needed to get back to the embassy, and the afternoon was quickly slipping away. He promised to try to take us another day if our schedule allowed.

I was definitely a little disappointed. Visiting a local market had been something I was really looking forward to, and I knew our time in Congo was limited. Still, even this short outing was a wonderful opportunity to get out of the hotel and experience another little piece of the country.

We returned to the hotel for another nap, followed by a wonderful dinner and some time Skyping with our family back home. Before we knew it, another day in Congo had come to an end.

Our week was going by so quickly! We were enjoying every moment with our sweet girl, but that exit letter was still hanging over our heads. I was praying that everything would come together in time for us to make our flight home.

And, of course, I was still hoping we'd have another chance to visit the market before we left!

Congo Adventures Day 4---Who Are You???

Wednesday, October 24, 2012:

Addy spent most of the night snuggled between the two of us. Around 4:00 a.m., she woke up, looked at us, and seemed just as confused as ever. I pulled her onto my chest, and she quickly nuzzled into my neck and drifted back to sleep for another couple of hours. Oh, how I loved having that sweet girl in my arms!

Once we were up for the day, Bobby and I were anxious to give Addy a bath, get her cleaned up, and spend some time bonding with her. Unfortunately, she wasn't quite as excited about our plans! The moment we tried to put her in the bathtub, she looked at us as though we had completely lost our minds. She refused to sit down, and even after I helped her bend her little legs, she continued giving us a look that seemed to say, "Who ARE you people, and WHAT are you doing to me?!?!"

Judging by her reaction, I'm guessing this was her first experience with a full bath. She didn't cry or whine, but she was clearly unsure of what on earth was happening. And honestly, who could blame her? Here she was, in a completely unfamiliar place, with two people she had only met the day before, and now those same people were trying to bathe her!  

For the first couple of hours, Addy remained incredibly timid and uneasy. She never cried, but it was obvious that she was still trying to make sense of everything. We cuddled her, played with her, and did our best to help her feel safe and comfortable. She watched us closely, taking it all in, but we knew it would take time for her to become comfortable with us.

It wasn't until breakfast that morning that we finally saw a little more of our girl's personality. The moment she saw Josee, her whole face lit up! There was our sweet, smiley Addy! What a relief it must have been for her to see someone familiar amid so many changes. She even ate a great breakfast, polishing off some yogurt, potatoes, and a few bites of mango.

We spent the rest of the day in our hotel room, cuddling, playing, and doing everything we could to help Addy feel comfortable with us. Oh, and NAPPING. Lots and LOTS of napping! We were SOOOOO tired! Between the exhaustion of traveling, the excitement of finally meeting our daughter, and the emotions of the previous day, I think we were all perfectly content to spend some quiet time together.

We also managed to Skype with the kiddos back home for a little while, and it was SO wonderful to see their sweet faces! As much as I loved every minute of finally having Addy in my arms, seeing the rest of our crew reminded me of how incredible it would be to finally arrive back in North Dakota. Our WHOLE family, together at last!!!!

As the day went on, Addy began to open up a little more, but it wasn't until we met A and Josee for dinner that we really saw her personality come through again. Having familiar faces nearby made such a difference for our girl. I cannot begin to express how thankful I am that we were able to spend the week with them. Their presence helped Addy transition from everything she had ever known to these two crazy white people who were suddenly holding her, kissing her, and loving all over her!

Wednesday evenings at Hotel Royal featured live African jazz and a dinner buffet, so we decided to enjoy both. We started in the courtyard near the music but quickly moved inside when we found ourselves surrounded by people smoking. Thankfully, we could still enjoy the jazz from inside, and we were now just steps away from the BUFFET!

Oh, my goodness. What a dinner! I seriously wish I had taken a picture of our plates. There was beef, tuna, salmon, chicken, potatoes, and an enormous assortment of salads, including one with large tomatoes stuffed with crab and tuna. Everything looked incredible, but the SAUCES! OH. MY. They were absolutely D.E.L.I.C.I.O.U.S! There was one spicy orange sauce that I swear nearly lit my mouth on fire, and yet I couldn't stop eating it!

We also had the chance to try Primus, a local beer we had heard so much about. It was surprisingly tasty, reminding us a little of Blue Moon, only without the citrusy flavor. Between the delicious food, live jazz, and wonderful company, it was a fantastic evening!

After dinner, A and Josee came up to our room for a while, and we settled onto the balcony to watch the streets below. As we sat together, our conversation gradually turned from the excitement of the day to the poverty surrounding us. The three of us still couldn't get over what we were witnessing.

At one point, I almost felt horrible sitting there, looking down at the streets as though we were watching a television show. Except this wasn't a show. These were real people, real families, and real children going about their everyday lives. We had just enjoyed an incredible dinner in a beautiful hotel, while only a short distance away, people were living in circumstances we could hardly imagine. The contrast was difficult to comprehend.

We had a wonderful conversation about our faith in the Lord and the things we had seen. I kept thinking about how difficult it was for me to imagine enduring such extreme poverty and sickness while still holding tightly to the belief that God loves you beyond all measure. And yet, so many people facing circumstances far more difficult than my own have a deep and beautiful faith in Him. What an incredible reminder that God's love and presence are not dependent on our circumstances.

As we talked, I began thinking about all the times I've questioned God over the smallest things. All the times I've wondered, "Where are You, God?" when life hasn't gone the way I wanted. I complain about a difficult day in my comfortable home, surrounded by my healthy children, while there are mothers living on the streets with their babies and young children, some facing serious illness and unimaginable hardship.

My heart ached as I thought about the people we had seen that day. I was overwhelmed by the contrast between their circumstances and my own, and I couldn't help wondering why I so often allowed life's smallest inconveniences to overshadow the incredible blessings God had given me.

Oh, how much I still had to learn.

As we ended another unforgettable day in Congo, I found myself praying for those mothers, fathers, and precious children. I prayed that they would know the Lord's love and care in the midst of their circumstances and that one day, they would inherit the highest seats in glory.

I was reminded of the beautiful promise in 1 Samuel 2:7–8, which tells us that the Lord sends poverty and wealth, humbles and exalts, raises the poor from the dust, and lifts the needy to places of honor.

1 Samuel 2:7-8

The LORD sends poverty and wealth; he humbles and he exalts. He raises the poor from the dust and lifts the needy from the ash heap; he seats them with princes and has them inherit a throne of honor.

What a beautiful reminder that the Lord sees those whom the world so often overlooks.

And what a humbling reminder of just how much He was teaching me through our time in Congo. 

Congo Adventures Day 3 Part 2--Addy's in OUR Arms!!!

The rest of Day 3 (Tuesday, October 23, 2012):

I fumbled around with my phone as we drove through the big metal gates, quickly asking C if she could record this special moment. After all the waiting, praying, and dreaming, we were FINALLY here. In just a matter of seconds, I would meet my baby girl!

The next two minutes went by so quickly that I could hardly catch my breath. Just seconds after I handed C the camera, I spotted two nannies walking out the door. And there, in the arms of one of them, was OUR ADDY!!!!

My heart was racing, and the tears came instantly. The car had barely stopped before I was jumping out to get my baby girl. I hurried over to the nannies and wrapped Addy in the sweetest embrace E.V.E.R! Even now, I can't think about that moment without tears filling my eyes.

There she was. Our Addy. Our precious little girl whom we had prayed for, dreamed about, and loved from thousands of miles away. After so many months of waiting, she was finally in her mommy's arms, just days before turning nine months old. I can't even begin to describe how tightly she grabbed me. I held her close, hugging and kissing her sweet little face, and then pulled back just enough to let her look at me. She didn't cry or reach for the nannies. She simply sat in my arms, staring at me as I tried to soak in every second of the moment I had imagined for so long.

Of course, Bobby was more than ready to hold his daughter, too! He finally pried her out of my arms so he could have a turn bonding with his baby girl. While they enjoyed a few moments together, I went around hugging the nannies and thanking them over and over again. They were so excited and giggly, and I couldn't have been more grateful for these wonderful women who had spent so many months caring for our girl.

Within moments of our arrival, the other eight nannies and 23 children made their way down the stairs to greet us. Suddenly, we were surrounded! Within minutes, I had at least five kiddos wrapped around my legs. We stopped to take a few pictures of those unforgettable first moments before heading inside.

As we walked through the door, one of the nannies handed out suckers to everyone, including Addy and all the tiny babies. ;) I have to admit that I selfishly remained standing for a while because it was the easiest way to get a little one-on-one time with our girl without ten other children climbing all over me! I simply couldn't take my eyes off her. I wanted to study every little feature, hold her close, and squeeze her over and over again.

 

Eventually, my arms began to give out. After all, I was holding 23 pounds of PURE SWEETNESS! I finally sat down on the floor, and within seconds, there were children all around us, eager for love and attention. I set Addy down beside her playmates and spent some time playing with the other children.

There were 24 children living in the house, ranging in age from four months to eight years old, and every single one of them was beautiful. Their smiles and laughter were absolutely uplifting. Although we couldn't communicate with words, that didn't keep us from playing, laughing, hugging, and showing one another love. I couldn't help wishing I could bring every one of those precious kiddos home! Twenty-four children, each with a unique story, a history, and a future.

I was reminded of Jeremiah 29:11 and the promise that the Lord knows the plans He has for His people, giving them hope and a future.

Jeremiah 29:11
For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

After some time playing, it was time for the children's lunch of chicken and rice. As they gathered around the table, I walked from child to child, writing down names and clothing sizes for their mommies back home. Some of the children finished their meals within minutes, while others took nearly half an hour. Once they were excused, they made their way to a large water jug to wash their hands before heading back outside to play.

We lingered inside for a little while, having absolutely no idea that we were about to be part of a DANCE PARTY!!!!

One of the nannies pulled out her phone and turned up the music. She started dancing, and before long, a few more nannies and children joined in. And then Bobby decided to join the fun! He was holding Addy and started dancing around a little, and OH MY GOODNESS, you should have seen those nannies! They started screaming and laughing and simply couldn't get enough of it.

For the next ten minutes, the music played while everyone danced around the room. A few of the children looked at us as though we had completely lost our minds, but most of them giggled and happily joined the party. One nanny kept shimmying up next to Bobby, and everyone would absolutely LOSE IT every time!

It was hilarious! Who would have thought that watching my husband dance around a room full of Congolese women would become one of my favorite memories of the day?!

As much as I loved every moment at the transition house, one of the hardest parts of the day was sharing my Addy with the nannies. The night before, we had learned about J, one particular nanny who had become very attached to Addy, or "Generose," as she was known at the house. D had told us that it was probably best that J wasn't scheduled to work that day because she was having such a difficult time with Addy's departure.

But apparently, J couldn't resist spending one more day with her girl. She came in to meet us and ended up spending the entire day with us! It was incredibly special to get to know her and see the bond she shared with Addy. At the same time, I have to admit that it was TOUGH for this brand-new mommy to share her baby girl when all I wanted to do was hold her myself!

Whenever Addy was in my arms, J would watch us, smiling at nearly every little thing we did. It was impossible not to see how deeply she loved our daughter.

Addy had been part of the first group of children to move into the transition house on July 10, and she and J had connected almost immediately. J was the one who pierced Addy's ears, encouraged her to crawl, and snuggled her to pieces. Their relationship was incredibly special, and I couldn't help but love this woman who had poured so much love into our daughter when we couldn't be there.

Several times throughout the day, I walked over and placed Addy in J's arms, watching her face light up with a love that was impossible to describe.

At one point, J told C, who was interpreting for us, that she would never be able to look at another baby without thinking of her Generose. She loved her so much that she knew she would cry every time she heard her name.

Oh, my heart!

All day long, we heard J and the other nannies calling out, "Gennie! Gennie!" Each time, Addy would turn her head toward them and let out a little giggle. It was such a sweet reminder of the love and familiarity that surrounded our girl during her first months of life.

We spent much of the afternoon outside, playing with the children and watching them enjoy one another's company. The girls played hand-clapping games, practiced little rhythms, and styled their dolls' hair, while the boys played with toy cars and chased Bobby around the yard. It was such a joy to watch them doing the very same kinds of things children do back home.

During a quieter moment, Bobby and I decided it would be a good time to hand out the gifts we had brought for the nannies. Before leaving for Congo, I had purchased gifts for ten women, only to learn shortly before our trip that we also needed to buy gifts for a few men. Somehow, that little detail completely slipped my mind until we were already on our way to Congo!

Thankfully, I had packed two large garbage bags full of parade candy for the children. I figured I could divide some of it into smaller bags to give to the men. Perfect! The women would receive nail polish, body spray, and Dove chocolates, while the men would each get a generous bag of candy.

Simple enough, right?!?!

WRONG!!!!

Bobby set out the nail polish and body spray and told the women to choose one of each. BIG MISTAKE! Everyone went absolutely NUTS! Men and women were scrambling around one another, digging through the bags, debating colors and fragrances, and arguing back and forth in French. Bobby tried to explain that the candy was for the men and handed each of them a bag, but a few of the women spotted it and immediately began pleading for some for themselves.

The whole scene became so chaotic that C, who had been in the kitchen, came out to find out what on earth was happening! Thankfully, she was able to ask us what we had intended and explain everything to the staff.

Once everyone understood, they were incredibly appreciative and delighted with their little gifts. It amazed us how something as simple as nail polish, body spray, or a bag of candy could bring so much excitement. I don't think I'll ever be able to paint my nails again without remembering that afternoon!

Another thing we quickly discovered was that the nannies L.O.V.E.D having their pictures taken! Every few minutes, someone would get our attention and ask us to take another photo. At one point, I was called into the house to find all ten women lined up and ready for their picture.

But their greatest joy? Getting their pictures taken with BOBBY!

Apparently, my good-looking husband was quite the celebrity with these Congolese women! They would wrap their arms around him for a picture and then dissolve into uncontrollable giggles. Under normal circumstances, that much attention toward my hubby might have made my blood boil, but I honestly couldn't stop laughing at how silly and excited they were!

  

At one point during the afternoon, I realized that J had put Addy down for a nap. Naturally, I couldn't stay away from my girl, so I headed down the hallway to peek in on her. Okay, let's be honest. I was really hoping to scoop her up for another cuddle!

I looked in the first room but couldn't find her.
I checked the next two rooms and still didn't see her.
Finally, another nanny came over and showed me that Addy had been in the very first room all along.

Ha! I just hadn't thought to look on the TOP BUNK, where she was sleeping alongside three other babies!

It had been a long day, and we were exhausted, but I couldn't help feeling sad as I realized our time with the children was almost over. We sat outside for about an hour, enjoying those last precious moments, until the nannies called everyone inside to change into pajamas and have their evening snack of porridge made from puréed soybeans, peanuts, and dried mushrooms.

Not long afterward, our driver arrived to take us back to the hotel. We hugged the nannies and bent down to give each child one final squeeze before climbing into the car.

As soon as the door closed, my eyes filled with tears. I looked back at the children sitting on the steps, waving goodbye to Generose and Josee, A's eight-year-old daughter. It was almost more than I could bear.

As we pulled away from the big metal gate, the tears turned into sobs. And I cried nearly the entire way back to the hotel.

The drive was incredibly surreal. Our driver had turned on some soft African music, and we sat quietly in the back seat as the car bounced along the streets of Kinshasa. My emotions were completely overwhelming. I was SO incredibly happy that Addy was finally with us, yet I couldn't help feeling a sense of sadness as we took her away from the house where she had received so much love and care.

Everything we saw along the streets of Kinshasa was so different from the life we were preparing to bring her home to in the United States. It was difficult to comprehend how much our daughter's world was about to change.

I held my sleeping baby girl tightly, thanking Jesus for the love He had shown us through the people who had cared for her and praying that we would spend every day of her life showing her that same love.

For most of the hour-long drive, we hardly spoke. Every once in a while, I would turn and look at Josee, who was staring intently out the window, quietly taking everything in.

Surreal. Unbelievable. Overwhelming.

When we finally arrived back at the hotel, we washed up and cuddled our sweet Addy to sleep. As exhausted and emotional as I was, I couldn't stop thinking about the incredible day we had just experienced.

This was the day we had longed for. The day we had prayed about, dreamed about, and waited so patiently to experience.

Addy was finally ours FOREVER!!!!

Every ache, every disappointment, every long month of waiting seemed to fade in comparison with the joy she had brought us. The journey had been long and difficult, but oh, how it was worth every single moment! In many ways, it reminded me of the pains of labor and the incredible joy that follows when a precious child finally arrives.

 

I couldn't help thinking about John 16:21, which describes the anguish of childbirth giving way to joy when a baby is born.

John 16:21
When a woman is giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come, but when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world. 

What a beautiful picture of everything we were feeling.

Our sweet girl was finally in our arms, and we couldn't have been more grateful for the journey that had brought us to her.

Congo Adventures Day 3 Part 1--Addy's Almost in OUR Arms!!

Gotcha Day

Forever Day

Family Day

In the adoption world, there is so much discussion about what to call this day. But to us, the title doesn’t really matter. What matters is the memory of this day and the incredible joy it brought to our family. After 20 months of the adoption process and eight months of staring at her pictures, Addy Rose was FINALLY going to be placed in OUR arms!!

This is a day we will NEVER forget....

Tuesday, October 23:
 
We had been told we would be picked up at 10:00 a.m., and we planned to meet A downstairs for breakfast at 8:30. But there was absolutely no way we were sleeping past 6:00. We were far too anxious and excited for the day to begin!

As I got ready to shower, I realized I had forgotten my shampoo and conditioner. Throughout the week, I would discover that I was missing a few other essentials as well. So much for packing a month ahead of time with three curious kiddos at home! (When we returned home, I eventually found several of my carefully packed items hidden under our bed.)

With no other option, I jumped into the shower and reached for the hotel shampoo, only to discover it was little more than water with a tiny bit of soap. No lather, no cleaning, no yummy smell — just water running through my hair! And the conditioner? I might as well have dumped a little yogurt on my head and called it good.

After the shower, I spent a good ten minutes trying to comb through a head full of knots. I kept telling myself, “At least I can blow-dry it and make the knots and grease look okay.”

I climbed out of the cold shower, grabbed my converter, plugged in the blow dryer, and...

Ahhhh!

Ten seconds later...

POP!

Yep. My blow dryer blew up.

For those of you who know me well, you know I have very particular, picky hair. It’s half naturally curly and half straight. Once it’s blow-dried, it tends to be very dry, but without a proper wash and styling, it can get VERY greasy.

UGH! My hair hadn’t been properly washed in a few days, and now my blow dryer didn’t work?!?!?!

Before traveling to Congo, I knew we would be dealing with heat and humidity, and I certainly didn’t expect “looking good” to be a major priority. But I had still hoped to look somewhat decent for the pictures that would capture the precious moment when our daughter was placed in my arms for the first time.

And then I caught myself.

Here I was, on the morning I was FINALLY going to meet Addy, upset over shampoo, conditioner, and a blow dryer.

Wasn’t THIS the moment I had been waiting for?

The whole idea of looking perfect for the camera suddenly seemed ridiculous. I was in Congo. I was about to meet my baby girl for the very first time. Did it really matter what I looked like?

ABSOLUTELY NOT.

After that much-needed reality check, we headed downstairs for breakfast.

Our first glimpse of the breakfast buffet once again reminded us that we were living in luxury during our stay in Congo. The spread was AMAZING! Fresh fruit, eggs, potatoes, three or four different kinds of meat, yogurt, CREPES, and more pastries than we could possibly need. We ate and ate and ate — partly because the food was delicious and partly because we had been warned that we might not get another chance to eat until much later in the day.

Shortly after breakfast, we found ourselves in the lobby with two suitcases and two bags full of donations and goodies for the children, waiting to GO MEET ADDY!

Naturally, we were downstairs by 9:55, completely ready for our 10:00 pickup.

10:00 turned into 10:30, and we reminded ourselves that we were now on Congolese time.

10:30 turned into 11:00.

Ummm...maybe he said 10:00 but actually meant 11:00?!?!?!

FINALLY, at 11:30, D SHOWED UP!!!

YAY! We were off to meet our kiddos!!!!!!

NOT.

D had only stopped by to tell us that he was running late and would need another 45 minutes or so.

Back to pacing the floors.

The anticipation was KILLING us!

Finally, around 12:30 p.m., C, another member of the in-country staff, arrived to take us to our children.

THIS WAS IT.

We were FINALLY on our way!

The ride to the house was educational, eye-opening, fascinating, and, at times, just plain strange. Seeing Kinshasa in daylight gave us an entirely different view of the city from the one we had experienced the night before. There were people EVERYWHERE — men, women, and children of all ages, simply going about life as they knew it.

 
 Of course, we didn’t drive straight to the children.

Our first stop was at a gas station, only we didn’t actually get gas. Another moment when I desperately wished I understood French! C got out of the car, went inside, and returned with a handful of money. We pulled forward a little, and there was some sort of exchange between C and a man at the station. Then we drove around the block, headed back the way we had just come, and stopped at another gas station farther up the road.

This time, we actually got fuel.

Great! Surely now we were headed straight to the kids.

We drove another few miles, dodging potholes, people, and cars, before stopping AGAIN, this time in the middle of a shopping district. C got out and went into a shop. About ten minutes later, our driver climbed out of the vehicle and disappeared into another shop.

The three of us were starting to get a little annoyed.

We had waited MONTHS to meet our children, and now that we were finally on our way, it felt as though we were stopping at every possible place between our hotel and the transition house!

 

A good twenty minutes later, they both returned to the car, and we were back on the dirt road.

A few miles later, we stopped.

AGAIN!

This time, C explained that we were stopping so we could buy the water we had said we needed. Fair enough. We climbed out of the car and headed into the supermarket.

I honestly don’t know what I expected, but the store looked surprisingly similar to any supermarket we might see in the United States, only smaller. Since we were already there, I figured I might as well replace my missing shampoo and conditioner, and A wanted to get a candy bar for her daughter. I also grabbed a small roll of cookies to bring home to E, A, and O.

We walked to the checkout with five items:

• A 12-pack of liter-sized bottled water
• One candy bar
• A travel-sized bottle of shampoo
• A travel-sized bottle of conditioner
• A small roll of cookies

C handed everything over while the cashier calculated our total in U.S. dollars. Bobby pulled out some money, expecting the total to be around $20.

Not $20.

Not $40.

Not even $60.

SEVENTY DOLLARS!!!!!

For FIVE ITEMS!

We almost had a heart attack.

Bobby hurried back out to the car to get more money, only to return and find out they wouldn’t accept his $20 bill because it had one tiny fold in the corner. So back to the car he went AGAIN, this time looking for a perfectly crisp bill.

Once we finally paid and climbed back into the car, the three of us could hardly stop talking about what had just happened. We had spent $70 on a handful of basic groceries!

Not only did the price seem absurd to us, but it left us with an even bigger question: How on earth could local families afford ANYTHING???

(Remember this $70 grocery bill when we meet Wilson later in our adventures.)

We continued climbing a large hill on the outskirts of the city, inching closer and closer to our children. The three of us had grown unusually quiet. Our hearts were racing with anticipation, but our eyes were also glued to the windows, trying to take in everything around us.

We turned this way and that for another twenty minutes or so, slowly making our way through the city and occasionally stopping due to traffic jams or stalled vehicles.

Then we turned into a small alley surrounded by houses. I had absolutely no idea that this little road, lined with boys and girls who were too poor to attend school, was leading us directly to the house where our children were waiting.

There was no announcement.

No “We’re getting close.”

No “We’re almost there!”

The next thing we knew, we pulled up in front of a large metal gate. A gatekeeper greeted us with a huge smile and began opening it.

And there it was.

The BIG YELLOW HOUSE.

The same house I had seen so many times in photographs. The house I had imagined visiting over and over again. The house where our sweet girl had been living while we waited, prayed, and dreamed about finally bringing her home.

The second I saw it, I KNEW.

WE HAD ARRIVED!!!!

After twenty months of waiting, eight months of staring at her pictures, an international flight, a sleepless night, one blown-up hair dryer, hours of waiting, and more unexpected stops than I could count...

Our baby girl was just beyond those gates.

And in a matter of moments, she would FINALLY be in our arms.

To be continued...

 

Congo Adventures Day 2--Arriving in Congo!

Monday, October 22:

We had VERY short layovers throughout our entire trip to Africa. When we finally landed in Brussels, we rushed to our next gate because boarding was supposed to begin before we had even stepped off our previous plane! We quickly found our travel companion, A, who was easy to spot among the crowd. This was my first real taste of the language barrier. Why I hadn't spent more time with Rosetta Stone in the weeks leading up to our trip is still beyond me! We settled in and waited to board. And waited. And waited some more. Forty-five minutes later, we were finally on our way. Our first taste of Congolese time?!?!

Brussels to Kinshasa (long, yet refreshing!)

As we walked down the jet bridge to our plane, we happened to meet a missionary, S, and her son. What a sweet encounter! She was so willing to chat with us, answer our questions, and help us feel more comfortable about our upcoming week. She was also incredibly encouraging about our adoptions. A few minutes into our conversation, we discovered that she was the worship director at a church just blocks from our hotel, and she offered to pick us up for church on Sunday!

I was THRILLED! Attending a church service in Congo was something I had desperately wanted to experience, but I had assumed there was no way we could make it happen. And now, before we had even boarded our flight, God had opened that door. You'll hear more about S and her family on Day 8. :)

Once aboard, we were blown away by the service on Brussels Airlines! They served us enough food (and complimentary drinks of our choice) to keep our bellies full for the next couple of days. The only downside to the top-notch service was that we were both exhausted after a restless night of traveling. But sleep or no sleep, I couldn't stop watching the little airplane inch its way across Africa on the screen in front of me. With every mile, we were getting closer. This was it. Our final flight to Congo. And I had FINALLY accepted the fact that we probably weren't going to crash. Ha! Soon, we would be standing on Congolese soil, in the same country as our daughter.

Our flight landed about 45 minutes late, which was disappointing because the sun had set just minutes before we reached Kinshasa. We had really hoped to see the city from above, but what we saw instead was AMAZING. And we're from North Dakota, where sunsets are pretty hard to beat! As our plane twisted and turned along the Congo River, the sky glowed a brilliant golden yellow, slowly fading into the darkness of night. It was breathtaking.

And then, at last, our wheels touched the ground. We were in CONGO! Standing on African soil, knowing our sweet Addy was so incredibly close, was almost more than I could comprehend.

Our adoption agency had given us a wonderful travel resource explaining what to expect when we arrived at the airport. We were told to go to a specific check-in line.

Simple enough, right?

Well, that line apparently didn't exist. At least not that night! So there we were, looking like the confused foreigners we were, scrambling around the airport trying to find "THE LINE." Eventually, we settled on one and hoped for the best.

The man who took our passports decided he needed to see certain paperwork before allowing us through, even though A had just been admitted without anyone looking at hers. After we finally cleared that checkpoint, we were directed to another booth where we had to show our immunization cards. And then we walked through a set of big wooden doors and straight into the CHAOS!

We had been instructed to look for the large signs from our agency, so I confidently led the three of us into a crowd of people yelling and trying to get our attention. Somehow, in the middle of it all, I walked right past a man who was clearly trying to get OUR attention! He didn't have a sign, but after a moment, I realized he was calling our names. I took another look and recognized M from the pictures our agency had sent us. WHEW!

He quickly motioned for us to follow him, and after gathering a few luggage carts, we headed over to the baggage carousel. And there we waited. For an entire hour. While we waited for our suitcases, A and I were approached by one person after another, each trying to get our business.

At one point, a man who appeared to be a police officer approached me and spent a good five minutes trying to explain something.
He spoke French.
I spoke English.
Neither of us had a clue what the other was saying! Eventually, another man who was also hoping to get our business noticed our struggle and translated. Apparently, the officer wanted to borrow my luggage cart and promised to return it shortly.
I agreed.
I never saw that cart again.

Meanwhile, M was going back and forth between the baggage area, where he was looking for our luggage, and the inside of the airport, where he was keeping tabs on Bobby. We were among the last people still standing at the carousel when our final bags FINALLY arrived.

All right! We had our luggage. We had found M. We were ready to get out of there...
Or so we thought.

The moment we started pushing our carts toward the exit, several men approached us, grabbed our carts, and insisted on pushing them for us. Once again, I desperately wished I understood French. I couldn't make out a single word of what M and the men were saying to one another, but it was quite obvious that M was NOT happy that they wouldn't leave us alone. As we made our way toward the doors, we passed another group of men who were yelling, screaming, and pushing one another. We cautiously walked right between their argument and out into the warm, humid Kinshasa air.

We followed M along a beat-up concrete path, and I stayed as close to him as humanly possible. I am fairly certain my heart stopped beating. There were men everywhere, many carrying guns. People were yelling in a language we couldn't understand, while others stood staring at us. It was dark, unfamiliar, and completely overwhelming. (And through it all, M was STILL arguing with the men who had taken our luggage carts!)

We kept walking until we finally reached the car, where our in-country coordinator, D, was waiting for us. I cannot even begin to explain how comforting it felt to give him a great big hug. A familiar face. Someone who spoke our language. Someone who knew where we were going. RELIEF!

While we settled into the car, M and D continued negotiating with the men for their help with our luggage. Eventually, they agreed on a price, D climbed into the vehicle, and we began a car ride I will NEVER forget.

To say that driving in Congo was chaotic would be an understatement. There were hardly any street signs, no painted lines to indicate where the lanes were supposed to be, and virtually no streetlights. Some roads were paved, while others were dirt, but nearly ALL of them were filled with potholes that resembled enormous black holes, deep enough to make you wonder if they might swallow the entire vehicle and transport you to another planet! I had read descriptions of driving in Kinshasa from other people who had traveled to Congo, but I honestly thought they were exaggerating. NNNNOOOOTTT!

There we were, flying down the roads in the darkness, with very few lights around us other than the candles illuminating the little groups of people gathered along the streets. Cars were flying around us. Or perhaps I should say AT us! Every time I dared to look up at the dimly lit road ahead, I would see another shadow darting across the street. Sometimes it was a mother, sometimes a few children, and sometimes an elderly man trying to make his way through what appeared to be five lanes of completely uncoordinated traffic.

Every minute or so, our driver would lay on the horn and accelerate around a slower vehicle, often with another car heading STRAIGHT TOWARD US. Just when I was certain we were about to collide, he would swerve back into his "lane." And then, right in the middle of all that chaos, we would feel an enormous JERK. SMACK! Our hands would hit the backs of the seats, or our bodies would slam into one another as the Jeep abruptly slowed to avoid yet another enormous pothole.

This went on for an entire HOUR. At one point, we were traveling EIGHTY MILES PER HOUR! We were bouncing and swerving, dodging people, cars, and potholes, all while taking in our first glimpses of Kinshasa.

Thankfully, this was also our first opportunity since arriving to have an actual conversation with someone from Congo who spoke English. So, during what I now consider our "Hour of Shock," we peppered D with questions. Questions about the country, the poverty we were witnessing, and what to expect during the coming week. And, of course, the question that was never far from our minds...

HOW WAS OUR ADDY?!?!?!

D explained that we were driving through the most densely populated area of Kinshasa. I had absolutely no trouble believing him. During that entire hour-long drive, I don't think I saw a single empty stretch of land. There were people EVERYWHERE.

I watched boys running along the streets, playing football in the darkness. Groups of people huddled around makeshift candlelit tables, talking and laughing together. Everywhere I looked, there was life. The poverty was overwhelming, but the sense of community was equally striking.

It made me think about the way we often live in America. We close our doors, retreat into our own homes, and live so much of our lives privately. Yet, as we drove through Kinshasa that night, I saw people gathered together, talking, laughing, and sharing their lives in a way that genuinely touched my heart.

Street after street, we passed people preparing to spend the night outside. At times, it felt as though we were driving through a never-ending tunnel of humanity. Just steps away from a group of people gathered around a table, we might see a mother curled up on the side of the road with her children, nestled together for a night of sleep. We saw very young children walking together late at night, some appearing to be only two or four years old. It was nearly 10 p.m.

I was trying to take everything in, but there was simply too much to process.

After a few more twists and turns, the atmosphere around us began to change. We had entered Gombe, the business district and wealthier area of Kinshasa. Although the surroundings looked different, the streets were still filled with people. Hundreds were outside singing, talking, and conducting business. Even here, people were sleeping along the streets, some right next to our hotel.

After everything we had just witnessed, pulling up in front of a hotel that looked and felt much like one we might find in America was strange. Almost unsettling. The contrast was difficult to comprehend.

We were greeted immediately by the doorman, checked in, and escorted to our room. At that point, all we wanted was a little food and a good night's sleep! We unpacked our bags and decided to order room service, which was actually something I had NEVER done in a hotel before. And doing it in Congo, after everything we had just seen, somehow felt wrong. But we were exhausted.

Bobby called down and ordered a hamburger and a plate of spaghetti. Simple enough. Or so we thought! A little while later, a woman arrived at our door carrying a hamburger...and an espresso. Somewhere between our English and her understanding of the order, our spaghetti had apparently turned into a tiny cup of coffee!

As soon as she entered the room, she asked whether the order was correct. We could tell she already suspected something wasn't quite right. When we explained that we had ordered spaghetti rather than espresso, she closed her eyes and looked as though she might burst into tears. She quietly asked if we would please keep the espresso in our room because she was afraid she would lose her job if she brought it back downstairs.

Oh, my heart.

Of course we kept it! We paid for the espresso and gave her a generous tip, hoping she would know how much we appreciated her service. We never ordered room service again during our stay. We were already being pampered more than enough at the hotel, and the extra service just seemed unnecessary. Besides, we much preferred going downstairs to the restaurant, where we could interact with people and experience a little more of life around us.

By the time my spaghetti finally arrived, I was completely worn out and MORE than ready for bed. But even in my exhaustion, I could hardly contain my excitement. Because tomorrow...

WE WOULD FINALLY HAVE ADDY IN OUR ARMS!!!!

EEEEKKK!

We climbed into bed and let out one enormous sigh. A sigh of relief. A sigh filled with hope and anticipation for what the next day would bring. And beneath it all, an unspoken prayer of gratitude.

Thank You, Lord, for opening our eyes.

As I lay there reflecting on the day, I realized that perhaps it was a blessing we had arrived after dark. I was already overwhelmed by everything we had seen, and I knew we had only caught glimpses of the city. Maybe arriving at night had given us a gentler introduction to a world so different from the one we knew. Maybe it was exactly the transition we needed before seeing everything in the daylight.

But all of that would have to wait. Because tomorrow would be THE BEST DAY OF OUR ADVENTURE!

Our sweet Addy would finally be in our arms, and I could hardly wait.

Congo Adventures Day 1--Almost There!

Well, I figured it's time I sit down and try to journal a bit about our adventure to bring Addy home!  We've been home a week and a half, and it's hard to even believe we were in Congo just a short time ago... it's crazy how much you can be affected by something, and then the next minute you're back to your "normal" life again.  I pray that we never forget what we experienced and that even though we are back home, we'll live our lives forever changed by what God has taught us through not only the journey of adoption, but the journey to Congo...
--------------------------------------------------------------

We had only received the call on Thursday midday that we could book our tickets and finally head to get Addy. I spent Thursday and Friday doing last-minute travel preparations and coordinating our flights, as Bobby wrapped up things at work and lined up his guys to stay busy without the boss for 10 days!

I was so elated knowing our wait was finally over and Addy would soon be home. BUT, I was nervous to leave Eli, Ayla, and Owen behind.

{A mom with a heart torn completely in half}

We'd talked for years about getting a will written, and we handwrote one a few years back when we took a trip to Hawaii... but it was a definite checklist item before travel to Congo. That process in itself was enough to get my emotions rolling... confirming with our guardians that they really would love and care for our children if we happened not to come back.  We had to face the hard realities of traveling so far and into a country that we were warned about traveling to—but all the while knowing that in the end, all that really matters is that our children know a love for Christ and are brought up fearing the Lord (whether that was with us or not).

We trusted that the Lord had clearly called us down this path and had taken us through a long journey to this point... we knew He'd be bringing us back to our earthly home.  BUT, it still weighed on my heart what the possibility of us not returning would mean for these three:

The night before departure.  Joyfully anticipating the arrival of Addy!

Day 1--Sunday, October 21:
The morning started with a very early alarm waking us to get up, shower, and out of the house by 6:45 so we could make it to Bismarck for our 9:40 flight. As boring as it may have been for them, we really wanted our kiddos to see us off at the airport so we piled into the mini-van with our volunteered driver (my big bro, Jesse) and headed down the road. 

I sat nestled in the backseat between Eli and Ayla...with Owen just an arm's reach in front of me.  I savored every second of the 1.5-hour drive.  To be honest, I was a mess.  Thoughts kept crowding my head, knowing this could have been the last time I was with them... of course, I know that could be the case any second, any day—but there was an uneasy feeling about where we were headed, without them. 

I got teary eyed as Eli and Ayla were asking me to tell them stories of Jesse, Cain, and I from our childhood---one of their favorites!  Jesse and Bobby were chatting away in the front seat as I sat back cuddling the heck out of my kiddos, still feeling surreal that we were headed to get our fourth child.  The closer to Bismarck we got, the more surreal it became.

As much as I'd wished it was possible they could go with us, when we got to the airport I was quickly reminded how "relaxing" the trip would be without having them along—the three of them crawling all over our suitcases, pulling on our sleeves, and asking a million questions as we were trying to get checked in.  (Secretly I just smiled, wondering what the car ride home would bring with Uncle Jesse and 3 tired kidddos!)

Shortly after arriving, the dreaded moment came... when we had to give one last squeeze goodbye.  We quickly snapped a last "Family of 5" photo and said our goodbyes—little Ayla broke down crying, which of course led to more "mommy tears".  Pulling her off my legs and confirming with her that we would see her soon (which I prayed was true)....ugh, I'm crying now remembering the look in her eyes and the ache in my heart!  I turned away and walked through the security checkpoint without looking back. 

 

We entered the waiting area filled with early risers on their way here and there.  I was ready to start the journey to Congo... ready to get there, bond with Addy, and come home to a family of SIX.

<<Dickinson to Denver (stinky)
Our first flight started off with a stink.  Bobby and I were seated a few rows apart...and I got stuck next to Barfing Barbara.  5 minutes into the flight, she upchucked more than a Thanksgiving dinner—in the bag, on her lap... yep, the 2-hour flight was rather stinky—especially once she felt the need to turn and talk to me the entire time.  I turned around once to see Bobby chuckling, thankful he wasn't in my shoes, or HE would be barfing right back at her.

<<Denver to Chicago (smooth, quiet, and quick).

<<Chicago to Brussels (long & restless)
About 5 hours into the flight, an elderly man got sick and continued to puke every 15 minutes for the last 3 hours of the flight.  Luckily, he was not next to us, but the sound was enough to keep us awake during this overnight flight.

Yes, the first day was a little restless, and rather pukey—but we were on our way!  I remember us saying how quickly the time went, especially being we didn't have more than a wink of a layover all day.  

Arriving in Brussels brought on Day 2—our first Congo experience....
 

Our Family is Complete....(for now!)

We're back.  We're home.  Our family is complete.....for now;)

I will be blogging about our trip over the next week or so--a couple days highlighted at a time.  All I'll say for now is, it was a wild ride. 

But for today....some shots to prove she is HERE...

If you've been following us from the start, you'll know that my only reservation towards adoption was the ability to love a child as much as my biological children.   You may also recall that God quickly spoke to my heart, telling me to get over that fear--that this child would be MY child, and I WOULD love him/her as much as Eli, Ayla, and Owen.

I'm here to tell you now, there is not once ounce of me that thinks of Addy any less than I do E,A,O.  She is MINE.  She was made for ME!  God had her chosen for our family before I even knew the word adoption and she has brought us more joy than I could ever imagine. 

From Congo to North Dakota and back a million times.....we love this sweet girl!

Get ready to read the adventures of two longing parents and one spunky girl!!  Coming up soon....
 

From Anguish to JOY!!!

I've got to admit, I've had a pretty easy life.  I haven't been through much loss, I had parents that loved me and cared for my every need, I have a dedicated loving husband, and I've been blessed with FOUR beautiful children.

But, we all go through trials and temptations.  We all suffer.  We all deal with anger.  We all sin.

Through this adoption journey we've had numerous people compare adoption to pregnancy.  The thing is, to some who haven't been through adoption, I could see how the two compare.  They are both journies that of our Father bringing a child into our homes. 

BUT, I can tell you that I've been through 3 pregnancies (plus a miscarriage) and this is NOT even close to the same thing! 

Adoption is hands down the hardest thing I've gone through in my life.  To explain adoption to someone that hasn't experienced it is very hard.  If you have children, you know that you'd do ANYTHING for them. 

Now imagine having your child 8,000+ miles away, being cared for by people other than their mommy and daddy.  Imagine not knowing many details about your child and only receiving 10 pictures from their first 9 months of life. 

So, if I seem like I've been on a rollercoaster lately...I have been! 

At Addy's embassy appointment we were told her visa SHOULD BE issued in 2-3 weeks.  Of course we got super excited and prepared to travel.  We prayed it would fall within the 2-3 weeks and thought that worst case, it would be 4 weeks.

Then we found out we needed a BPI.

They tried by skype.

Then we found out skype didn't work.

They scheduled an appointment for the birth father.

Then we found out he didn't get on the plane (he wasn't able to be contacted to inform him of the interview.

They hired a PI to try to find the birth father.

Then we waited for the investigation to be done.

They got all the paperwork together showing they tried.

And we waited for the visa to be issued.

Our 2-3 week estimate turned into EIGHT WEEKS.

You see, after we first saw Addy's face we estimated we'd have her home in September.  Overall, a month later is not bad timing.  The wait inbetween has been hard, but doable.  BUT, these last 8 weeks have been another story!  Being told we'd more than likely travel and then have that swept away was sooooooooo incredibly hard.

Each week ticked away.  Each day she grew....physically and in our hearts.

My last post was all about endurance. You know, counting our trials as joys  and the testing of our faith to produce endurance (James 1:2-4).....

And oh how I felt that.  God kept telling me over and over again that this wait was a test of my faith.  A test of my trust that He had this.  A test that I've never experienced so directly before.

And then the last 24 hours happened.

For the past week we have truly believed this was going to be "THE WEEK."

Again in my Bible study (James: Mercy Triumphs by Beth Moore) I felt God talking directly to my through His word.

This week's study was on anguish turning into joy.  Oh how I felt and believed this week was God's way of proving to me (like He needs to do that!) that this trial and wait has been a test of our faith and all the anguish will soon be joy. 

I felt it...and felt it...and felt it!

Then the week started to slip away....the clock struck 10am this morning (5pm DRC time) and I wanted to scream.  I truly was at a state of complete frustration.  I broke down in tears, so full of emotions.  I stayed up late last night PLEADING for God to turn our anguish into joy.  I woke up this morning feeling defeated and felt like I needed to continue to talk to the Lord and tell him how much I trust in Him and how much I love Him. 

After the clock turned 10, I decided to jump into the shower and relax a bit.  To get away from the kids crying and fighting and spend 10 minutes pleading to God to please bring Addy's visa yet this week.

And then.....

I jumped out of the shower to my ipad blinking a new email. 

An email from our caseworker....

An email stating Addy's visa will be picked up tomorrow....

An email stating we can GO GET OUR BABY GIRL.

I did not doubt our anguish would turn into joy....but I did not see God's perfect timing hitting home so clearly.  God needed me to hit "rock bottom" and to call out to Him evening, and morning, and noon. 

Psalm 55:17-18

Evening and morning and at noon
I utter my complaint and moan,
and he hears my voice.
He redeems my soul in safety
from the battle that I wage

Just like a mother no longer remembers her anguish after childbirth, we no longer feel our anguish.....our anguish has turned into dancing.  Into pure joy that our daughter will soon be in OUR ARMS! 

John 16: 20-21
Truly, truly I say to you, you will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice.  You will be sorrowful, but your sorrow will turn into joy.  When a woman is giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come, but when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that that a human being has been born into the world.
 

Another way adoption IS like childbirth;)




(I will not be posting on my blog until we are home safely with Addy...)
 

18 Days Until Orphan Sunday (25 for our church)...

On November 4th, as well as the surrounding Sundays, thousands of events will echo across America and around the globe, all sharing a single goal: that God's steadfast love for the orphan will also stir in our hearts.  From many sources, one voice. Orphan Sunday is an opportunity to excite family, community, church and friends to God's call to care for the orphan. As Orphan Sunday approaches, we pray you will dedicate time on one Sunday in honor of the fatherless. Here are a few helpful and practical recourses for how to spend an Orphan Sunday from Christian Alliance for Orphans' Orphan Sunday.org website: Partnership Packages - Ideas and action points from over 20 different orphan, adoption & foster care organizations so you can find an activity that fits your church. (Be sure to check out Lifesong's Partnership Packages as well!) The Orphan's Table - Experiences impact us more deeply than words. On Orphan Sunday, share a meal eaten by orphans around the world.  Gather with family, small group or church for the meal, discussion and prayer. More Resources - Check out OrphanSunday.org for other church resources such as sermon starters, worship songs, bible studies, bulletin inserts, prayer guides, and much more! We are hopeful you and your church family will honor orphans by participating in Orphan Sunday.

------------------------------------------------------- We are excited to be celebrating the 2nd Annual Orphan Sunday at our local church (Evangelical Bible Church) on Sunday, November 11th. If you would like information on what our church is doing, or how you can get your church involved, please contact me!

Producing Endurance

"Consider it a great joy, my brothers, whenever you experience various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance."

James 1: 2-3

 

En-dur-ance n.: the ability or stength to continue or last especially during pain and hardships 

I recently started a new Bible study, James: Mercy Triumphs, by Beth Moore.  I know it's one of those incredibly awesome powers of God and His word, but I am still amazed how clearly I relate to every study I do.  It's like the study was written for me, in that very moment of life.  But with this study, I R.E.A.L.L.Y feel it;) 

A couple days ago I was doing a lesson on the two verses listed above (James 1:2-3).  I've known these verses and had them memorized before the study started, afterall the book of James is probably the book I've read the most and the book in which I've memorized the most verses....but these two verses bring on a whole new meaning right now, as I'm facing trials.

"Consider it a great joy..."
The word 'consider' implies we shoud think or reflect on our trials and consider them a joy.  I agree with Beth that, "I can't think of anything harder than counting hardships a joy." 

"... the testing of your faith produces endurance."
The testing of our faith gives us endurance. Trials aren't meant to take away from us, but to give us endurance. What we see as painful and hard is not always what is bad or turns out to be bad.

You see, I can tell you this waiting game is H.A.R.D.  It is not easy to keep patient and feel joyful about our situation.  BUT, what we have learned and gained through this process is a faith and trust in God that we've never had to experience before.  We have grown to be more reliant on Him and less of ourselves, our timelines, and our expectations.  We have found that waiting strengthens our faith, and the stronger our faith is, the more obediently we can live our lives.

By learning to wait, we've learned to trust.

So... yes, we do consider this waiting a joy--even though we don't always feel it! 

Is it easy?  No.  But, we are placing our trust in Him, knowing His plan is greater than any plan we could ever dream up....(plus, we do know that holding Addy is in our arms will definitely make this wait worthwhile)!

While we keep waiting, we will continue to produce endurance...through the strength and hope found in Him.

"Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things."
1 Cor: 13-7
 

His steadfast love endures forever! 

7 Turned into 8 (months, not family members!)

Our baby girl is now 8 months old.  8 months.

I remember being very overwhelmed as a  first-time mom at different stages.  Me, the mom that has always wanted numerous kiddos, often found myself questioning how I could ever have more.  The endless breastfeeding, the sleep schedule (or lack of) and the change to sitting at home and conversing in "baby talk" all day was enough to make this "made to be a mom" crazy at times!

BUT, I vividly remember that once Eli was 6 months, life seemed to get easier.  Being a mom was wonderful and I even started to have BABY FEVER! 

Then 6 months turned into 7 and 7 into 8. 

With all three--Eli, Ayla, and Owen--I remember feeling like 8 months was the BEST age.  I remember thinking there was no way it could get any better (and then every month after I would think the same thing).

So now I'm reminiscing about their babyhood and wondering what was it at 8 months that made me think it was the best???  I'm assuming it had a lot to do with their new adventures of roaming from place to place.  Or the silly and cute faces they were making.  Maybe it was the personality that was starting to shine.  I'm guessing it definitely had to do with the fact that around 8 months they wanted their mommy---yes, even though stranger anxiety can be a nuisance, you can't say it doesn't warm a mother's heart to know she is the center of her child's life.

6 months turned into 7 and 7 into 8.

Now, I'm feeling the same twist of time, yet a whole different taste.

When Miss Addy was 5 months old I prayed we'd have her home by 6 months (but thought FOR SURE we'd have her home by 7).  Then she turned 6 months and I was praying we'd have her maybe not home, but in our arms by the time she turned 7 months. 

And then, 6 months turned into 7 and now 7 turned into 8.

It tears me apart to remember how much I adored this age with E, A, O...and how I'm missing it with Addy. 

Is she crawling?  Is she starting to show her own unique personality?  Is she attached to someone, and maybe starting to think they are her mom/dad?  Does she have teeth?  Does she eat solid foods?  What is her sleep pattern like?  Does she like to be cuddled?  Does she play with any toys?  Have any favorite friends?  Giggle?  Babble?  Cry a lot? 

I feel like I'm constantly trying to see her in my head, yet I can't fully visualize her--because she's my daughter and I don't even fully know her.

To believe you will be leaving any day to get your child and then to have that all slip away is a very emotional, hard situation.  We are so thankful to have an agency that is working their tails off on our behalf.  We are thankful for our friends and family who are praying for us and keep encouraging us through scripture and support.  And we are extremely thankful for our God who will not forsake us...Who loves us, and loves sweet Addy.

We are still unclear as to what our timeline may be--because no one really knows.  We could be on a plane in a week, it could be 2, or 8 months could turn into 9. 

Addy--8 months