Love 101

We are calling our little boy Vanya for short - a loving nickname.

Why Vanya? Well, when you take his daddy’s Scots-Irish name “Ian” and translate it into a Slavic name, you get “Ivan”. Then make it into a cute little boy’s name the Slavic way – and Vanya comes out. It is like calling a little boy named John “Johnny”.

And, yes, we are going to change his name from his birth name. Why rename him? We want him to know that he is our son – because a son receives a name from his parents. We also want him to hold onto his Bulgarian heritage – because it is an intricate part of him. So this little nickname will achieve both purposes!

Vanya is expected to come soon… maybe Christmas! Or there about…

However, even though we are expecting, we are trying not to have any expectations.

Why?

We know so little about Vanya. What we do know will probably change by the time we get him home or turned out to be incorrect. On top of that, we are dealing with a little soul that has not had the benefit of love and attention, adequate nutrition and exercise, and very little exposure to what it means to be human. He spent his first two years or so laying in a crib with no one speaking to him or around him, no one holding him, and no way to see how people act or behave. That he is as advanced as he is – just having learned to sit up, to walk a little, to say a couple of words – shows that he has great potential for growth. But we really don’t know…

So we are setting our expectations for only the most basic of things… things like we are adopting a little boy. He will need lots of love and extra attention. He will not understand English. He probably will be scared.

We are not expecting him to love us at first sight. In any way, shape, or form.

Unconditional love – or even love in any form – is a foreign concept for the vast majority of children living in orphanages. If they are lucky, people will be kind to them. But this is in no way love. Based on the cultural view of orphans in Eastern Europe, it is unlikely that even kindness will be known to kids in orphanages.

So our first task and privilege as adoptive parents is to teach our son about love. Free and unconditional, unending, abundant love. Until Vanya is taught what love is, he will not love us – or anyone.

On the syllabus of our Love 101 course:

·         Love is patient – we will give him forever to learn to love – no deadlines.

·         Love is kind – we will always seek to do what is best for him.

·         It does not envy – we will be jealous for him – not of him.

·         It does not boast – it is not about our accomplishments as parents, but about him.

·         It is not proud – we will be low so that he may climb high.

·         It does not dishonor others – we shun shame and bring honor to him.

·         It is not self-seeking – we will lay down our lives for his welfare.

·         It is not easily angered – we will respond appropriately without wrath.

·         It keeps no record of wrongs – we will not hold past failures against him.

·         Love does not delight in evil– we delight in the good in him.

·         But rejoices with the truth – we will be honest to him.

·         It always protects – we will shelter him from all that is not good for him.

·         Always trusts – we will give him the benefit of the doubt.

·         Always hopes – we will be optimistic about his future.

·         Always perseveres – we will face challenges for him and together as a family.

Notice that all these actions are ours – we are his teachers and will be demonstrating the concept and power of love to him. He will have his homework, yes, but the burden of the work is on us. This is how he will learn to love – he will be taught with words, with actions, with hugs and kisses, with sacrifice and hard work.

It reminds me of that heavenly principle, “Because He first loved us…”

A Very Happy Father’s Day

Diary of a Soon-to-be Daddy

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

 Father’s Day is now yesterday’s news. It was Sunday – two days ago. By now all the crazy Father’s Day ties have been worn once and secretly put away to be forgotten about, the Father’s Day lunches have been eaten and paid for, and the Father’s Day congratulations said, heard, and promptly forgotten. For most American dads, the drudgery of fatherhood has resumed, almost uninterrupted, leaving Father’s Day but a memory.

Except, of course, for my Father’s Day.

My Father’s Day this year was my first Father’s Day. And even though I didn’t have my “firstborn” son in my arms to share the day with, I still had a day that commemorated our relationship (even though that relationship is still distinctly one-sided!).

Last week we received notice from the adoption agency that we had been officially “matched” with Vanya (our nickname for him), the three-year-old Bulgarian boy we’re adopting – our son. Matching does not mean everything’s done and we can simply go pick him up. No, there is still lots to do. But it does mean that no-one else can adopt him. No other Bulgarian, American, or anyone else can call him their son. No-one has that right any longer – just us. So even though there’s still legal mumbo-jumbo to wrangle, visitations to be approved, and so forth, he is, for all intents and purposes, our son. The great thing was that this happened last Wednesday (June 12). That was the day before Mel’s birthday (the 13^th), a few days before Vanya’s third birthday, and four days before Father’s Day. So it made for a week of “days”, and it made for the perfect Father’s Day.

The reason this is such a big deal to me is because last year, even though we had begun the adoption process by Father’s Day, I couldn’t really celebrate it. We hadn’t got to the part of the process where we were able to pick a kid yet. We didn’t even know Vanya existed then. At that point, the adoption was still a goal-less activity, a race without a trophy at the end. It was horrible. I had the loving heart of a father (I’ve had one for quite a long time now actually), but no child to direct it toward. One of my closest friends wished me Happy Father’s Day last year, and while I knew in my brain that she meant it with nothing but love and kindness to me, I still wanted to react negatively toward her. It was a day of grief – the antithesis of what Father’s Day is supposed to be.

This year, though, was entirely different. It was a joy. We have selected Vanya to be ours, he has been matched to us so no-one else can snatch him away, and we are ploughing forward with the legal mumbo-jumbo so we can go see him in the fall. His birthday and Mel’s birthday were only recently celebrated, and my own dad was out here from California doing ministry work. I got to spend time with him over the weekend, go kayaking with him, make him a Father’s Day card too, and take him to the most amazing cheese shop and restaurant for lunch.

But best of all, I was wished Happy Father’s Day by many of my friends, and for the first time in years (in fact, since the dreaded 2010 I mentioned last week), it didn’t hurt like hell! So many of my friends came up, said “Happy Father’s Day!!!” and gave me big hugs. One lady, herself an adoptive mother, told Mel to “make sure you wish Ian a Happy Father’s Day and get him an ugly tie or something!” It felt like I’d joined the cool kids’ club! It was great! AND, I even got that tie from Mel – palm trees on a blue background!

Even though Vanya is still across the sea and doesn’t know we even exist yet, he is still my son, and I his father. No, I haven’t changed a diaper yet, I haven’t been woken up at ungodly hours by his incessant screaming, I haven’t sat through hospital visits or boring school plays or excruciating sports games. Some “real” fathers may question whether I have the “right” to enjoy a Father’s Day since I haven’t done these things yet. But I feel I do. I am a dad nonetheless. Mel and I have put in countless hours to make Vanya our son. We have fought countless battles, raised funds, and missed out on hobbies and time with friends just so we can have something other people take for granted. We have made Vanya our son, and we love him as our son. He is our son and I his father. So it was a very Happy Father’s Day indeed!

God Redeems the Wasted Years

Diary of a Soon-to-be Daddy

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

God Redeems the Wasted Years

The year 2010 was a wasted year for both Mel and me. It was a complete loss; a trial, a tribulation; a year of underemployment and frustration and grief for us. And those of you that had the misfortune of knowing us (or specifically me) during that year will remember just what a catastrophic disaster and unending debacle it was.

It started out in the fall of 2009 in the aftermath of our move to DC. We knew we were supposed to be here but we ended up not knowing why. Originally, I had thought I would take my graduate degree in global political and economic development and work for USAID, the State Department, or another government agency or non-profit organization whose business it was to help countries develop their economies and political systems. This job never worked out, mostly due to the fact that there were very few jobs in this field in DC at the time, and also because I had a head full of theories without any hands-on work to show for it.

Then I started losing the eyesight in my right eye. I went from having tolerably good vision in that eye (I could see 20/60 with my glasses on – which is good for me considering the vision problems I have) to having no vision at all. My left eye doesn’t see as well, so in essence, I lost the better of my two eyes. This was crushing and grievous because my parents and I had fought for years to preserve my sight from the degenerative condition that now was exacting its heinous victory over me. 

Finally, in 2010, Mel and I discovered that our dreams of having children were just not going to happen like we planned. This was the very large straw that broke the camel’s very weak back. Life was over at this point. It felt like there was no point in even living. The year 2010 drew to a close with Mel and I battered and broken, disheartened and discouraged, me still underemployed and us now without a hope for children. The year was a gigantic loss. It was the worst year of my life. 

But God redeems the wasted years.

Somewhere across the pond in Bulgaria, also in fall of 2009 when my miseries began, a Bulgarian woman realized that she was pregnant in what I can only assume was not a good situation. Less than nine months later, a boy who would later become our son was born prematurely and abandoned to the Bulgarian orphanage system. A little boy was born that terrible year – 2010. 

He was abandoned and discarded, punished for someone else’s misdeeds. He didn’t ask to be born; he certainly didn’t ask to be left without a loving mom and dad. A new life that should have been full of hope and promise and love was suddenly cast aside and forgotten about. A human being, a person, a child who will one day become a strong man was dumped in a crib, fed through a tube, and forgotten about. 2010, his birth year, may as well have been the worst year of his life too. 

But again, God redeems the wasted years. 

This year, three years after the worst year of my life and possibly the worst year of our son’s life, God has brought us together. We were both once wasted and discarded people. Society looked at both of us and said, “Who cares?” But this year we are brought together. No, we haven’t seen the boy yet in person (that will most likely happen in September or October). We’re not even officially matched yet (which is why we can’t show photos of him). But I know in my heart of hearts that the Lord has set him aside for us. The Lord’s voice is too clear and the signs too obvious for me to question them without coming to a resounding YES. In the midst of my hopelessness and despair, the Lord was bringing me a son. In the midst of our son’s year of birth and abandonment, our Father in Heaven was setting aside for him a new father and mother. God was busy redeeming the worst year ever for all of us.

This week we not only celebrate Mel’s birthday, but also our son’s. We can’t say exactly the date he was born because, as I said above, we’re not officially matched yet and there’s legal mumbo-jumbo in the way. But his birthday is close at hand. While he is only turning three and thus may not be aware of birthdays and holidays and special events and such, we can be sure that he will probably have an underwhelming birthday – no balloons, no cake, no presents, and no mom and dad to shower him with love. But this year, hopefully, he will be brought home to his mother and father. He doesn’t know it yet, but this year he will be placed in a home. This year he will receive love like he’s never known. This year he will be redeemed.

Because God redeems the wasted years.

Faith Child

Being the logophile that I am... I was daydreaming about words the other day.

All sorts of words.... The one I was lingering on especially was "peace child", which was coined by Don Richardson, and has come to mean practices or understandings native to non-western cultures which can be used to illustrate the meaning of the Gospel. It is based on the story of the evangelism of a Paupa New Ginea tribe... you can read about it here or in his book.

Then my mind wandered to other similar words, and considered the term "love child". Not quite the same genre of thought, to be sure. It is a rosy term hippies (and maybe others too, but not within my experience) use to refer to children born out of wedlock... meaning that the child is the overflow of their "free love". I grew up with a lot of these "love children" in Northern California. Quite honestly, it seemed like, while they were born out of "love", they did not continue to be loved, or even wanted... so many hurt and broken souls... some resilient, others destitute. Yes, there were some who were loved and cherished beyond everything else… but most… not so much.

“Wouldn’t it be great if we would change the meaning of that word?” I thought, “What if we called all the children who were truly loved and wanted, “love” children?” Then my mind turned to my empty arms… and to my little boy across the ocean. “He is my love child, in the literal sense of the word,” I thought.

But then a great and mighty, yet silent, Voice interrupted my thoughts.

“He is your faith child,” He said.

My restless mind and heart stood still. It was the truth and I recognized it with awe. Though we love our little boy enough to climb every wall between us, to give our all to bring him home, to sacrifice our time, money, and sanity to make this orphan our son, to love him fully and completely… he is not the natural result of our love. He is, however, our faith child. He is the supernatural result of our faith.

We know that God did not want our little boy to be born into sad circumstances and to be abandoned by the woman who was supposed to love him. We know that the years of neglect, pain, and suffering he has gone through were not the hope of God for his life. But God did arrange for his rescue! We know that God has placed this little one into our arms; he is our son! He is 100% ours! It is a simple, strong example of how faith works: God promised him to us. We believed with faith that we would see that promise come true, and we began to take the necessary steps to prepare, knowing that God is faithful to all His promises. And now, true to His word, God has given him to us – he is the fulfillment of God’s promise. He is our faith child!

While we see his face now, we still have miles to go before he is in our arms, tucked into his little bed in our home, snuggling his teddy bear, or play-westling with his daddy. Obstacles will probably arise and there will be wide rivers to cross. But how can we worry or fear? All of God's promises are Yes and Amen... and while it may not be easy, we know the outcome already. We will overcome. We have a son... a promised son.

Breathe Deep

We are almost done with our paperwork!... I think - more keeps coming out of the woodwork.

Do you know what a burden that will be off our backs? Looking back, it wasn't that hard as far as paperwork goes. But it wasn't the paper pushing that was so wearisome. It was that our very lives... and the life of a sweet little dear one... hung in the balance. It seemed like one faulty stroke of the pen could have ended it all.

Our little boy's home... for now.

90% done... and just a medical appointment and some appostilling away from being finished. Of course, that doesn't count in-country paperwork... finalization of the adoption papers, the visa, the passport, etc.

This week we will send our documents off to be apostilled... the medical one will be sent in after our appointment next week. We should be completely done, with our dossier sent in, by the end of June!

And then what will I do?!?! This has been our normal for over a year. I have been doing paperwork when I get home in the evenings, during weekends, early mornings, weekends, for what seems like forever. What will I do with all the free time I will have? It won't last long, I am sure... just some months of waiting and we will have our hands full. (Wait, what am I thinking... I have more grant application papers ahead of me - enough to keep me busy for a while!)

I have tried to sit and contemplate the significance of this little boy joining our family. I have tried to deeply consider the meaning of our little boy coming home to us. What will we do... what changes will need to be made to our lives? What will it be like? What will he be like? I tend to hyperventilate when I think that deep. I hyperventilated when Ian proposed to me. In moments when my entire life changes in an instant, I struggle to keep up.

I've been wanting to write a very deep blog post about the parallels between this adoption and something profound... because this feels very profound. But it is too much for me to grasp right now, when my whole world is spinning. It is hard enough for me to think, "We are going to need a high chair, some baby gates for the kitchen, and lots of diapers..." To think that we have son waiting for us to come and swoop him up is beyond me right now... almost... sometimes it hits me with full strength. It is in those moments that I need to breathe into my brown paper bag. So the very deep blog post will have to wait.

Our Sweet Little Boy

That is how all the people who have met our little boy describe him... sweet. We can't wait to meet the sweet little boy.

I have looked at his photos so much I have them memorized. The smiles and the inquisitive looks. The interest in his toy that he is playing with. His long fingers and cute little chin. Someday soon we will be able to share these photos, but until we get the official referral, they are all ours... our secret treasure.

That he is "sweet" is one of the few things we do know about him. We know so little about him... and so much of what we do know seems not very definite. If you had a scale and were weighing what we know against what we don't, it would seem that the "we don't knows" would far outweigh the "we knows" - except for one tiny little fact that outweighs everything:

He is ours!

I have never known anything so certainly in my life. He is my son, and my heart rejoices to see his face. My arms long to hold him close.

We are so looking forward to discovering our little boy... is he really sweet? Or is he wild and full of life? I hope that he is both. We probably get to visit him this fall! It is then that we will sign the final paperwork and our case goes before the courts. We may have him home by Christmas! Maybe sooner, maybe later... but soon!

The first response of many of my dear friends and sisters was... shopping! This is the natural celebratory response of many, I know. As of now, we are not buying him anything until see him. We don't know his size or his abilities - not for certain anyway. After we visit him, we will come back with a long shopping list, I am sure, and all the aunties can shop to their heart's content.

What we need now are prayers and finances.

Prayers

Our little boy needs healing... his lungs are damaged and weak. His eyes need sight. His legs need strength. I know from first hand experience that our God is a healing God - pray that the healing starts now.

He also needs to come home soon and get better medical care... he has doctors there... but we were not too impressed with their care of him, to say the least. He needs more nutrition than the orphanage is able to give him. He needs love and home cooking and a team of doctors to sort out a plan to get him healthy. Pray that the process moves quickly and that we get to bring him home sooner than later.

Our little boy has been alone in the world for almost three years... since birth. He doesn't even know what a mommy and daddy are. He probably has never seen a parent/child relationship. Ever. All he knows are the other orphans and the orphanage workers. Pray for his heart to be prepared for us to be his mommy and daddy. He doesn't know he needs us... he does even know about us yet... but pray that his heart will welcome us when we come for him.

Finances

The good news is that the issue with my paycheck that I blogged about two weeks ago is almost completely resolved!! Whoever heard of a pay cut being reversed?!!? God is definitely on the move.

More good news is that we received a $2000 grant and are being considered for another grant for the amount of $1500!

If we get the $1500 grant, we are still needing to raise about $3000 for the remainder of the international fees. And we will also need travel funds for the visit and the "gotcha" trip. Tickets to Bulgaria are expensive - and we have to make two trips! I will check with the adoption agency as to the average cost of the trip with housing and transportation included and then let everyone know. Then there will be lots of miscellaneous fees for our little boy's visa, passport, etc. All of this seems to be a mountain in my eyes, but God (and our dear friends) have brought us over so many mountains recently, it seems foolish to doubt.

We will be applying for more grants and trusting in God's provision, but if you would to take part in bringing our little boy home, here are a few ways you can contribute.

The process of the adoption has been long and arduous but we are seeing the light at the end of the tunnel... we know who our son is and now can work on bringing him home. It is still a difficult road... but now it is also fun and exciting!

We have a son! We have a son! Hurrah, we have a son!

The Crazy Joy of “Choosing”

Diary of a Soon-to-be Daddy

From Wednesday, May 8, 2013

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

It’s approximately thirty minutes before Mel gets home from work, and I have something I’ve been waiting to tell her – Happy Mother’s Day.

Yes, that’s right, Happy Mother’s Day. No, it’s not quite Mother’s Day yet; it’s coming up on Sunday. But I want to tell Mel that beautiful blessing today because I have just made the biggest decision that we have ever made, at least the biggest decision after my decision to ask Mel to marry me.

I have decided that we are going to go ahead with adopting a boy we’ve been looking at on the Bulgarian orphanage’s list. Yes, we are finally adopting an actual, single, unique person. We are taking the plunge. No longer will the adoption be about “a kid” or “a Bulgarian child with special needs.” No, this adoption will be about a boy named Val – well, that is not his real name, but it’s what we will call him here on the blog – for now anyway. A person. A boy. Unique, special, blessed; a future Elliott!

I can’t wait to tell Mel. I am crazy with eagerness and joy. But I am also strangely hesitant and nervous. This is a huge decision. This is our parenting future coming into existence right before our eyes. This is something that will change the life of a human being that we’ve never met, that doesn’t even know we exist. Thousands of miles away, someone’s life is changing, and he doesn’t even know it!

So how did I reach this decision? Well, the decision was not made alone. It was not made without Mel’s input. While the final decisions for our family are ultimately up to me, I always seek Mel’s input. As my wife she is my strongest ally. She’s insightful, intelligent, and thorough. Any decision I make for our family will be made indubitably stronger with her wise input. And her wise input came into this decision quite strongly.

She found Val a couple days ago on the adoption agency’s website. Every two months the adoption agency is sent a new list of children for adoptive parents to review and consider adopting. Every two months Mel and I look over these kids and discern whether they would be a good fit for us. Every time that we’ve done this thus far, we have come away with the decision that none of the kids is ours yet. Every month I have waited on the Lord and He has said, “No, these kids have futures that don’t involve you.” Every month I have submitted to the Lord’s perfect plan, but I have done so with immeasurable heartbreak.

But this month we saw Val. He is a happy-looking little two-year-old boy who has vision problems and s apparently slightly “lame” in his lower legs, meaning that he has difficulty walking without assistance. He also has some lung issues. The medical paperwork that came with him gave inconsistent information about his condition, but we were reassured that, with a loving family, his development as a person would come along quite well. All in all, he looked like a strong contender.

So we began praying. At first, I was hesitant to pray. It’s not that I was lazy or that I wanted Mel to make the decisions. No, no, and again no. It’s that putting before the Lord the lives of these children and the future of our role as parents is very difficult for me. I have a father’s loving heart. I want to be a dad so badly that I get so emotionally wrapped up in the fact that, with a simple Yes from the Lord, I might suddenly be a dad, or that with a sudden No from the Lord, my years of waiting will continue. So Mel prayed, and I dithered.

Yesterday, Mel was praying and kept hearing the name Jonathan, Jonathan, Jonathan. She figured, rather downheartedly, that it was the Lord saying that Val would be adopted by another family and that their new, adoptive name for him would be Jonathan since we have our own new adoptive name planned for him. But the Lord prompted her to do some biblical research on the name Jonathan. She did, and came to the story of Jonathan, the son of King Saul in 2 Samuel. The story basically goes that David, the new king of Israel, wanted to reward the loyalty of his deceased best friend Jonathan by accepting members of Jonathan’s family into his kingly family. He searched for members of Jonathan’s family but came up with only Mephibosheth, a young man who had been lame since birth and who was Jonathan’s son. King David told this young man that due to his father’s loyalty to King David, he would adopt him into his family, let him eat at his kingly banqueting table, and give him all the lands that had belonged to his father’s family. It was a story of love, adoption, redemption, inheritance, and awesomeness. I read this chapter at Mel’s request and the story began to make sense to me – there were just too many parallels!

First, Val is “lame” in both feet, and has been since he was very young, just like Mephibosheth in the story. Secondly, he is a person without a family who has lost everything. He was born into a family, but was dumped on the state and abandoned. When he becomes part of Mel’s and my family, he will receive the reward of his adoption – love, a rich spiritual inheritance, and so on. And best of all, he will eat at my banqueting table!

For any of you that really know me, you know what a big deal “my banqueting table” is for me. One of the ways I show my friends I love them is by having them over to good dinners; dinners where Mel makes amazing food, where I brew amazing coffee and espresso, where I lay the table in our wedding china, and where I have people sit In specific places at the table, old-fashioned-style, depending on how best I wish to honour them! It’s all very old-fashioned and silly, but it’s me, it’s who I am, and it’s how I bless people. King David’s royal banqueting table is mentioned several times in the story, as if to emphasize it above many other details. This may seem like a coincidence to you, and maybe even not enough of a concrete detail to base an adoption on, but for me, it’s the little details, “the foolish things” that confirm to me that this is right.

So, my interest was piqued. I got into the shower late this morning (I stayed home from work since I have a dental appointment today to talk about extracting two teeth tomorrow!) and began praying. I asked the Lord whether we should go ahead with Val. I asked Him to confirm that the scriptural direction He gave Mel was adequate enough for us to go ahead with this. He said simply “Yes.” I prayed harder, not satisfied that this one, single, simple word was enough to base changing our lives and the life of someone else across the globe. “Lord,” I pleaded,” I need something bigger than that! This is another person’s life I’m talking about! I don’t want to test Your word but You know this is a big deal to me!” All of a sudden my mind was led to the story in Matthew 8 about Jesus healing the Roman centurion’s paralyzed (another coincidence?) servant. The centurion came to Jesus and asked Him to heal his servant. Jesus said yes, He would, and that He would go see him. The centurion said instead that all Jesus had to do was give the word and he, the centurion, would know that the healing had been done. He clarified that since he was a military man, he understood the concept of a single word being given and the resultant orders being carried out. Jesus responded to the centurion by congratulating him for his rock-solid faith and telling the twelve disciples how steadfast the centurion’s faith in God was, even though he was a gentile and didn’t have the traditional Jewish understanding of God.

This was all the confirmation I needed. Jesus was reminding me that as a person of faith, which I am and have been since a young age, I understand the concept of acting based on a single word. I don’t need God to repeat Himself like a broken record to get me to move. I don’t need to lay out fleeces like Gideon for God to prove that He’s speaking to me. All I need is the word, and I know what to do. So in this moment, I knew the Lord was confirming to me that He had said Yes, and that He was telling me to make the final “Yes” decision for this adoption! AND, He was congratulating me for my rock-solid faith – a faith that doesn’t need to ask God to repeat Himself; a faith that hears the word and acts on it.

So here I am, 5:55 on a stormy, springtime Wednesday afternoon, now twenty minutes before a very unsuspecting Mel gets home, and I am going to tell her she has a son across the pond that we are going to adopt. I have Mother’s Day flowers and chocolates in the dining room with a card tucked in the box of chocolates saying that I know she’s going to make a great mommy. I am nervous, crazy, joyful. I know the adoption isn’t done yet, not by a long shot. I know full well that the worst-case scenario might happen and this kid might be adopted by someone else or might vanish into thin air or might…whatever! It may not be a done deal yet, but it’s a deal, it’s a decision, it’s parenting, I guess!

So, with faith, hope, and love – and a lot of crazy emotions – here we go!!!