Greeting Unexpected

Our trip to Africa was a long three days in airports. No, not three days with time change- three days of flying and waiting. One layover was long enough to take a hotel room for the night only to head back to the airport first thing in the morning. The flights were long and dry, and to my amazement, Celia did very well with them.

As soon as the plane touched down in Addis, all the "things" came flushing back to my brain. The front and rear door were opened on the plane and the hot air came in as our fresh air went pouring out. I am sure you have never heard the air on an airplane described as "fresh", but that is only because you have not been to Addis. The city air was hot, smoky, and immediatly tightened my lungs.

We marched down the metal offloading steps and onto a bus. We were one of the last off the plane so fortunate for us, we had no one exposing their armpit in front of our nose as they held the hand rail, such as the last time I was in Addis. No, we had the tram pretty much to ourselves and it was great to take in the expressions of my family as we drove to what was likely one of the smallest international airports that either J or Nana had ever been in. Luggage was everywhere on the tarmic, apparently in an order that only made sense to the airport staff- but looked like a security issue to American ol' me.

We waited in line for Visas. We waited in line for customs... and out of no where I heard my name, "Brooke!" I turned, half expecting to see Kibrom from the guest house I stayed at last year. It was not. Instead, it was Pastor Surafel from Phoenix! He was supposed to have left Addis the day prior to my arrival, and yet here he was, standing on the other side of customs to greet me! I was so surprised and so happy to see a familiar face.

He had postponed his flight in order to greet my family. So sweet. So thoughtful. We walked with him as he arranged for our bags to be taken (which was no small feet with a total of 16 bags weighing over 600 lbs). I had to excuse myself to run off to the restroom... the first one I could get to since we landed (someone must talk to the airport about that since those lines can take some time!) . Anyway, Surafel escorted us outside as I scanned the people for our driver. I was expecting a sign with my name on it but instead, found 2 staff from HOpe for the HOpeless and 4 beautiful children from the Drop In Center at HOpe! They each had a beautiful boquet of flowers for each of us which brought tears to my eyes. We were hugged and greeted. It was SO GREAT to be in Africa with my extended family! It was just where I was supposed to be and felt completely right.

We found a sign for Carolyn Fremouw- And we were off to drop some things at our guest house and on to see the kids. The exhaustion faded to nothing and the excitement for our tasks ahead was all that was left. I felt whole. I felt at peace. I took in a breath of that smoky air and praised God for all that he had done to prepare me and to assure me. It was very right.

The Rant- PS. Sorry it all starts here!

I have had a hard time getting back into the swing of things since our return from the great country of Ethiopia. I find myself feeling tired, sick, busy, and just kind of down. I don't want to come down on America, because I love America. But it is not the country today that it was intended to be back in 1787. When the Declaration of Independence was written, it was by men who had risked it all to stand for what was right. It was by people who had a vision of one nation, under God, and free from oppression. It was so that we, as Americans, could work hard, earn, and prosper. Today, I just feel so sad that we got it all backward. We prosper, work hard (most of us) and earn. But we have lived lives of EXPECTED prosperity. We only want the best, whether the best is what we can afford or not. So much so, that though we blame the banks for our current economy, that we, as American households, have overspent and underearned into unprecidented personal debt and subsequently, unprecidented national debt. I wonder how those that fought for our freedoms back then would feel about our choices today? And then, instead of owning the responsibility for our hardships, we ask why the government allowed this to happen. Don't get me wrong, there are REAL victims of this economy that could not have done anything differently to avoid their current hardships. Many, many people are in this situation. But it is their neighbors, not the government, that caused this. (Just my opinion.)

So here I sit, I have been home for over 2 weeks. I think of Africa every day, several times a day. I keep hearing my dear friend Fekadu tell me as we walked into his church that the whole corner of the church's land was seized by crooked officials in the government with no compensation. If you saw how much land we were talking about, it would make you as sick as it makes me. I hear Bicky, our super special friend and driver, tell stories about his protesting a fire set by the government when he was a young man to drive people out of the country and getting thrown into jail. He felt so defeated that at first, he acted out and landed in jail three times. Then he gave up his fight and has complacantly fallen in line like most other Ethiopians, knowing that their single voices are only squashed by the mighty government. I am angered for the people of Ethiopia, that they must go through so much to just survive, inspite of their government, in spite of the system. And here, we have a government that really is for us, and few of us really appreciate it. "I hate Obama." "The war sucks." "Our economy is in the dump and we are so poor." Statements of fact for many, yet also it shows how spoiled we are. First, we get to state our opinions without consequence. Second, we can't even begin to say we are poor. Third, of course war sucks. No one ever wants to kill others or die defending our nation... but complaining accomplishes nothing. I feel like we are so eager to put off the blame, to point fingers, to complain, etc... and what are we really willing to DO to change it?

So yes, today I am on my rampage. I don't know how else to begin telling about my trip... I suppose most sane people would begin with the arrival at the PHX airport. It just seems that in order for me to go back, I must first get off my chest what I feel now. Please don't feel as though I don't have empathy for where we are as a nation. I do. I get sick when I see our teachers losing their jobs. I see CPS not investigating allegations. I see hiring freezes and layoffs. I feel for these people. My family has been saved in many ways, and harmed in many others. My closest friends and extended family have all been hit hard. No one is without the effects of these times. There are MANY victims of our current circumstances. I am sad for where we are at- equally as sad for how we got here. Now I ask myself what can I do to help turn it around? How can I contribute to being a part of the solution, and not the problem? My heart is here, and in Africa. Both needed more than what I, just one woman, can do. I pray for miracles for two great nations and for an awakening of the people in both. That we, as Americans, can give more and expect less. That they, as Ethiopians, can continue to seek reform and mercy. That both nations, would fall on our knees in repentance for all we have and have not done and seek to live a life bound by Biblical morality.

The Perfect, Imperfect Puzzle.

As you all know, we are in the process of adopting 3 children and have already adopted one. They are all such HUGE blessings in our life adding spice and sugar to just about everything we do or touch. Not a day goes by that I don't take a minute to thank the Lord for our children. And yet our children, as most everyone calls the kids they raise in their home, are not just ours. Each of our children has a second set of parents that they are not raised by. These other parents are some of the most important people in their lives, owing life itself to this mom and dad. And yet in the case of 2 of my children, they do not even know their dad. In the case of the other two, they fear their dad. In the case of all, they unconditionally love their birth mom and feel forever connected to her.

Today we met Celia's grandma, aunt, and aunt's boyfriend at the park today for a visit (about the 5th one now). As Celia's adoption nears, it was time to prepare Grandma, especially, for the fact that all of us were to soon be connected in a permanent and important way. Our family is growing not by one child, but by one whole other family, full of mostly strangers to us. And of course, it is scary. These are strangers that have both helped and hurt MY DAUGHTER over the years. There is healing that Celia needs to do with her family, and fond and fun memories that are yet to be made. All of it being governed by a relationship between Jason and I and the bio family. Tears rolled down the face of Grandma as we talked about Celia's future. She is in favor of the adoption, yet sad for the lack of ability she had to prevent her from coming into foster care and concerned for the other 2 siblings not out of relative care. The complexity of it all weighs heavily on her heart, and on mine. Celia's inability to cope has her indifferent to it by appearance, but certainly her short speech has me convinced that it weighs equally on her.

Grandma brought tons of pictures to the visit. Pictures of Celia smiling as she wore her best dress for her first birthday. Pictures of the dogs, cousins, siblings, bio mom and aunt. Many memories were placed on the picnic table for us all to see. No picture would be mistaken for a picture that would come from yours or my home- with the rooms being more cluttery and carpet stained more than unstained. Grandma's love for them was and is evident. The method, just different.

I wonder how to sort my feelings, Celia's feelings, the difficult relationship between the one caring for her siblings and Grandma... what Celia wants vs. what is best for her. It is not easy. Her bio mom is about to come back into the picture in 5 months with the power to heal or hurt her from her current state. It is more power than Mom can know and how will she handle it when she doesn't even know she has it? How will Celia respond to all that Mom is capable of giving.

Adoption is not easy. There are pieces to the puzzle of your child's life that are hard to fit together. Pieces missing. Pieces torn and tattered. But not unlike a well loved puzzle that hours and hours were poured into creating, this puzzle is worth the end result. The character created by such trials, history, and pains has more potential to be supreme than any other. The growth, the depth that is required for survival alone is hard for you or I to imagine. And too big for a young child to even know how to handle. I pray that in time, we can guide this depth, this empowerment to do great things for herself. To honor the Lord with her life, to rise above the pain and past to be a light in the future. I pray... oh, I pray, that in the end, all this diffuculty will result in one young woman who knows who she is and who she serves. Please stand in prayer with me as this journey is long and hard for us all.

It was a good visit. It was a good day. I feel so blessed to be in this struggle.

Home Sour Home

So coming home from Africa is always a joy. I miss the kids so much that just thinking of them towards the end of the trip brings about tears. I was so eager to see them, have a warm shower that didn't require shutting off the faucet while soaping up, and some good ol' American food. And it was all as good as I knew it would be. We picked up our children and they seemed equally as happy to see us. We snuggled and then LIFE SET IN. It was laundry, cleaning, and emails. Fighting toddlers, dying grass, and doctor appointments. Ring worm on one child, marker on the other, too little sleep for another, and on and on. I love my life. I wouldn't trade it for anything... Home is SWEET... so why the title? Tut pees on the carpet when he is mad. Apparently, he was mad that we had left him for another continent. NICE!

Welcome a New Member

Well, you think I am bad about technology..... My mom is worse. And my grandma is even worse yet! But that doesn't stop any of us from trying. I assisted my mom (I know, Jen, you find that amuzing, as you should) in putting together a BLOG today! Can we show her some support and check it out?! http://www.pureloveoflife.blogspot.com/

Most of you know that she has had GREAT success with a nutritional product. She went to the eye doctor just this week and after three years without an eye exam, her vision has IMPROVED. So she is super excited and has decided to sell the product to help others to acheive their best health, too. Many of her success stories will be posted over time on her site. It is interesting stuff!

Anyway, I know you are all less than happy that I haven't blogged about my recent trip to Africa yet... I will. Really, I mean it!

Love to you all!

SRP Court Today

Court today was postponed until March 5th BUT...

There are no family visits for the next month plus. GREAT news.

Bio Dad is not allowed to contact us any more. GREAT news.

A Guardian Ad Lidem needs to be appointed and present at the March 5th hearing. GREAT news.

Keep the prayers coming. This is far from over but seemingly moving in the right direction!

What is Worse than Vaseline??

Many of you will remember a certain scrap book weekend in which my husband called to tell me that something bad had happened. Remember? The kids, only Cole and Lexi at the time, had gotten into the diaper cabinet and spread Vaseline all over the house.

The next bad "spill" was a 5 gallon paint bucket. You have to remember that?? We were doing the addition at our other home and Tim had left the paint bucket on the living room carpet where he had been showing me a color sample. Cole and Lexi decided to use Daddy's work shoe to "paint" the surrounding area and themselves. Good times!

Well, this one is about that good. Want to know, don't you??

KARO SYRUP!!! YUP... Celia had left her backpack downstairs and the tots decided to get into it while I was outside washing the car. (She had Karo syrup in there for a science project.) Dad stepped out to help me with a few last details and at the time, I thought to myself," I don't know that it is a good idea that Dad left the kids in there alone." Well, turns out that my every instinct was right.

I walked into Abby with an empty, but quite sticky bottle pressed against the water dispenser on the fridge. Karo in her hair, in Cole's hair, and Lexi's too. There were 2 big puddles of this intensly sticky goo on the carpet as well as many invisible spots later to found as crunchy spots under ones bare feet when walking on the carpet. ANd yes, this is AFTER the spot cleaning and a thurough carpet shampooing. We all know that this sugary substance will be a magnet for every dirt that one didn't even know existed in my house, and ordinary dirts alike. I continue to spot clean and the fibers crunch below my feet but still have not gotten them all nearly a full week later.

So what is worse than Vaseline? Paint.

And what is worse than paint? Karo.

I should invite the school here to complete the science experiment that was once intended to be in Celia's science class.