Spring, Beautiful Spring!

Yes, it did snow yesterday, but today onward is spring! The flowers! The birds! Temperatures above freezing!

Some early spring flowers are already blooming – the daffodils, the Lenten roses, the snowdrops, the crocuses. They have been lying in cold darkness all winter long waiting for the sun’s warmth to call them to glory. Rich shades of violet, brilliant yellows, and pure, delicate whites are breaking up the monotonous brown of our DC winter. It stirs the gardener in me.

I was considering these spring flowers and thinking of all the lovely little children who live in orphanages. Little ones are like the bulbs growing in spring. If they are cared for lovingly, with warm mulch covering their bed to keep off the harsh winter chill, fertilized with just the right nutrient mix, with the weeds removed so that their roots can absorb the water of the spring rains freely – their little leaves and buds spring up at the very first warm week of the season. They are soon in bloom, swaying in the gentle breezes and withstanding the fierce spring showers with strength and grace.

There are other flowers though, growing in other conditions… a neglected bed needing some weeding but still with flowers thrusting their heads through the weeds with determination and still shining out in the midst of the chaos that surrounds them.  A little love and attention will often set them right.

But then there are the poor little bulbs who just happen to grow under a construction site… they are covered with piles of rocks and rubble, pounded by feet and rolled over by heavy equipment. Yes, some do manage to survive, to squeeze upward in between the cracks in some wayward corner. Their stems are twisted and they could be broken at any moment by some careless worker or circumstance. Yes, they do sometimes bloom even… but they lack luster, they droop, their leaves may be torn, they are small, pathetic little things. No one waters them, fertilizes them, or removes the obstacles blocking their growth. Some, many, may not even survive. It’s a dangerous place for a sweet little plant!

What should we do then? We can’t move the construction site… and even if we could, it would take longer than these little ones have to live. The only solution to these little flowers is to transplant them! Dig them up very carefully and take them to a new bed with soft soil and plenty of water and nourishment! Twisted stems will be straightened and staked. The dead leaves of neglect trimmed away to allow for new, fresh growth. Shield them from the sun and the wind as their strength grows. Watch as their life returns with vigor! It may take a while for leaves to grow or for buds to emerge. It’s true that some of these little ones may never recover fully… some will always have that twist to the stem or missing branch. But that will not stop them from growing! They will bloom with radiant glory! Life is stirred up by love...

Some people would leave these little ones were they are… out of sight in the rubble of poverty, neglect, and rejection. I cannot. I feel their sorrow and pain and loneliness – I cannot wait to transplant my little one! I will be the gardener to his or her little soul and body. I will do my best to straighten the bent caused by cruelty, to sooth the pain of rejection, to heal the wounds left by no one being there to rock them to sleep, change their diapers, or even give them a drink of water. Out of all these things, however, I most look forward to loving them to life as they have never been loved before!

Yes, what a privilege it will be to parent such a brilliant flower as our child!

The Terrible Heartbreak of “Choosing”

"Psalm 68:6 “God sets the lonely in families, he leads out the prisoners with singing…”

This past Friday, Mel and I took more time out of work to go take care of more bureaucratic governmental requirements for our adoption. This time it was fingerprints. Even though we’ve had fingerprints done for our home study last year, which could have easily been photocopied or whatever, we had to take time out of our busy, crazy week and go to two separate government offices to get fingerprints done – one with ink, the other with a digital machine. Even though the appointments went “well”, the ordeal was exhausting! By Friday afternoon I thought that literally nothing in this process could be worse than this.

But alas, there is something about this process that is far more heartbreaking, frustrating, and trying than visiting offices of a government that couldn’t care less whether we lived or died, let alone a foreign child. That thing – that thing that weights so heavily on my heart and sometimes brings me close to tears – is the “choosing.”

Choosing what, you ask? “Choosing” our future child. Yes, believe it or not, we actually have a choice about which child we bring home to be our future son or daughter. We have access to a list of orphans that we can literally sift through like a vicious catalogue of human beings ready and waiting for our “purchase”! We can look at their characteristics, medical needs, and backgrounds and say, “I don’t want that one, put it back!” or “That one looks good, keep him as a backup!” And I HATE it!

Who gave us the right to be able to pick and choose which kid we want? Who gave us the right to make decisions about a stranger’s life that will determine, perhaps literally, whether he or she lives or dies? Birth parents do not have this luxury! They may have many others, but they do not get to choose which child they get. AND, they are not forced to make a choice that will affect the puny, listless existence of an abandoned human being!

In today’s modern age, we value “choice.” We pride ourselves on the fact that we can pick and choose what we want, when we want it, what we want it to do, what we want it to be! We live in “drop-down menus”…choices abound. But I hate this choice!

This child is a person, not an item. This child has a heart and feelings and endless possibilities. What gives me the right to choose whether he receives a home or stays a prisoner of an orphanage? Who made me God that I should choose whether he lives a fulfilling life, full of love and acceptance or a damned life, full of neglect and shame? Why must I choose? I don’t want the choice! I don’t want this child’s blood on my hands! I don’t want the blood of the children I don’t choose to be my son on my hands!

I’ve thought about this a lot, and the more and more I think about it, the longer I sit and try to fight off breaking down in tears, the harder I try to push their tiny little faces out of my head and stave off the guilt of “not picking all the children”, the more I come back to the verse at the beginning of this entry – God sets the lonely in families.

Did I hear that? “God” sets the lonely in families. The choice – Praise the Lord – is not mine after all! The Lord Himself has a plan for all these children because He loves them, and I am part of that plan for one of these children. I do not have to make the “choice” because He has already made it. To find out what choice He has made for me and Mel, all I have to do is ask Him and wait for an answer or confirmation. The Bible says that if any of us lacks wisdom, we can ask for God who gives to all freely and without reproach! I can ask the Lord what His plan is for any given child, and if that plan involves me and Mel, then the Lord will tell me. If the plan is for the child to be “set” in our family, the Lord will confirm it to us. If the child’s plan involves someone else, then the Lord will tell me to keep looking The “choice” is made, and it’s not ours to make!

My heartbreak at seeing child after child after child on the waiting lists is definitely still there. I may try to hide it under my stalwart smile, but it still exists. Reading through the characteristics and medical records of each child is still greatly difficult for me on an emotional level. It will never not be. These are PEOPLE, not PRODUCTS…! But I am not a “consumer”! The choice is not mine!  The guilt of choosing one child over another is not for me to bear because the LORD sets these children in families, not I.

Thank you GOD that You have a plan and that the only thing You ask is that I follow it and ask for wisdom on how to do so. Thank you God that You are working to get these dear children into homes and that You see where they are supposed to go. And thank You God for allowing me a glimpse of the heartbreak You feel at all Your lost Children that need Your Family. Amen.



We Don't Just Survive...

Just about every day on Facebook, I see the pictures of proud parents: a picture of a scrawny, smiling teenager with the title, “My son will be in a freshman in high school this year!” Another smile, with a gap, titled, “Jenny just lost her first tooth!” Then a video with the caption “My children just created their own version of Gangnam Style!” (really?!!?)

Sometimes, I am fine looking at these precious children… so cute, so loveable!

But sometimes, when my day is dark and my longing for my child is so deep that it hurts, the pictures seem boastful, hurtful – jabbing at my already aching heart. “We have children, sons and daughters… you just have empty arms!” I know that this is not the intent of anyone when they post – they are just overflowing with happiness and pride – their hard work and love have resulted in something – someone – that is so awesome that they must share!

I would like to take this opportunity to share the awesomeness of my child.

I have an amazing kid! My kid is a survivor!

Orphanages in Bulgaria can be hard places… the kids are given the basics – but sometimes just barely:

• A bed to sleep in… maybe with a few others sharing it. There are a lot of orphans and sometimes not enough space. Even if they have their own beds, the beds are jammed in every foot of the room. Kids sometimes have trouble sleeping alone when they come home. This may mean we get to have family slumber parties every night for months on end!
• Food to eat… at least enough to keep one alive – but maybe not enough to grow. Kids that come out are often as skinny as skeletons and small for their age. Some children, upon arrival to the States, even have to be kept in the hospital to be slowly fed so that their bodies adjust to normal levels of food without killing them. If I can do anything well, I can feed people! We will have that kid fattened up and growing in no time!

•  Bathes and clothes – but there are no rubber duckies and no favorite shoes. Clothes are communal and you take what you can get. Ian does specialize in complete wardrobe creation! And can one have too many rubber duckies?!?
• Toys to play with… but they remain upon the shelf until prospective parents come. Some kids don’t even know how to play with toys! We have been told by our social worker that adoptive children are impossible to spoil. We accept this challenge!
• Adult supervision – but no love. Most orphanage workers will only meet the physical needs of the child… as far as that goes. Very few will spend more time or effort than is absolutely necessary – they view the children as unwanted, rejected misfits that no one would want and treat them that way. One of the biggest problems adoptive children face is learning how to be loved! It is a completely foreign concept for them and they just don’t know what to do with it at first. They have to learn to accept love and to be a part of a family – and to some, it doesn’t come easily. This may be hard, but it will be the best and most important part! A lot of grown men and women don’t know how to receive love, but it is one of the most essential skills one can learn. But we have a plan and a God who makes all things new! Prepare for Operation Love!

So for my child to endure the conditions of an orphanage… they must be a chip off the old block! The Elliotts (and the Browns too!) are strong, enduring people. It doesn’t matter what life throws at us – we survive! And beyond that we thrive… life gives us lemons and we don’t just make lemonade – we make some lemon meringue pie to go along with it!

Come home soon, o new, cute, little Elliott-child! We are ready to change your surviving into thriving, your existence into life!



Snow Day

Snow, snow, go away, come again another day!

All winter I have been longing for snow. The gentle flurries, the flakes swinging down from the sky, the beauty of white lawns and snow-covered houses. So relaxing and gentle on the eyes. And all winter long, nothing has stuck.

Now, however, a major winter storm is barreling toward DC. Inches upon inches of snow at last!

And I hate it!

It comes at the worst time possible - on the very day we finally had our USCIS fingerprint appointment scheduled. And since the Government shuts down with the slightest threat of snow or ice, I know that the fingerprint office will be closed that day.

It would help if I could call the fingerprint office directly... reschedule over the phone. No! Rescheduling only can be done by mail. No direct line to their office - only a help line to a call center located in Kansas City, Missouri or some place like that far away. I did call the help line and was told that our appointment would be automatically rescheduled if the Government was closed. Right. I know how Government works.

So I am alternating two prayers right now... since prayer is the only resource I have to change the situation.

1. No Government closure! Of course, this will only happen if it does not snow.

2. If the Government does close - a very quick rescheduling. Quick to get it back on the calendar and for soon!

Or perhaps I could salt the clouds over Front Royal, VA and have all the snow dumped on them before it gets to DC! Moscow does this all the time to avoid city snowfall... it's a great idea! Anyone have a plane that I can borrow?