The Elliotts at Home

Hello All!

Our adoption process is inching along... getting the little things done on the dossier paperwork while we wait for the FBI to get our most recent round of background checks done (this is the third and final set).

One of the items that needed to be prepared was a set of photos showing our home life. One of our dear friends - who is a very accomplished professional photographer - came and snapped and clicked away and captured our life so beautifully.

Here is a picture of us!

Yes, this is the first picture that our child will see of his or her new mommy and daddy! (Well, if the orphanages even do that... I get mixed stories about if these photo are just for the officials or for introducing us to our kid.) But, yes, that is what we look like.

She took photos of us doing all the things we love... reading, playing board games, baking. We were photographed preparing our new kiddo's room and in every room of our apartment, hanging out on our balcony, even walking by the lake. In the end, I think that who ever sees these photos will have a pretty comprehensive view of our life at home.

(By the way, if you are interested in her services, our friend does photo shoots all over the DC metro area. Just let me know and I will connect you with her. We highly recommend her! )

I can't wait to have her come and do another photo shoot of our new addition to the family... once the dust settles, that is!

Seedlings

For the first time in many years, I am gardening! I have my little seedlings that I started many weeks ago out on the balcony getting acclimated to the sunshine and fresh breezes. Will soon transplant them into their pots where they will live the rest of their lives, blooming and (hopefully) producing fruit. Cucumber for pickles, tomatoes and chilies for salsa, and squash for me to saute in butter. Mmmm.

At this point in the gardening process, I normally choose only the most healthy seedlings to transplant. The ones with strong stalks and big leaves. But this adoption is making me far too tenderhearted. I cannot for the life of me get rid of the "special needs" seedlings in favor of the stronger ones, so they are going in the pots too. The weak ones, the ones with shrivelled leaves, the ones scarred from having difficulty shedding the seed pod. Sigh. I love them all.

Some people have been taken aback at the news that we are adopting a special needs child. Because of this. I normally don't tell people who I think won't understand or who may be negative about it. Not that most people are rude - they are just awkward and start acting like I have bit of broccoli in my teeth and won't look at me straight.

(Please note, anyone who know us - truly knows us - didn't bat an eyelash when we told them the exciting news of our adoption of a kid from Bulgaria that would need a little extra care. Our friends and loved ones were just as excited as we were!)

The conversation normally goes like this:

Acquaintance: So, do you have any kids? (Up unto this point, they have been talking forever about their kids and have noticed my silence.)

Me: We are in the process of an adoption, so yes. (To just say, "No, I don't have kids" leads into another awkward conversations about how I really should - people are so opinionated. Anyway... I love talking about our kid!)

Acquaintance: Really! How exciting! Domestic? (Because this the preferred option, you know.)

Me: Yes, it is exciting! No, from Bulgaria!

Acquaintance: Oh! (Less excited at this point but still determined to carry on the conversation somehow.) Boy or Girl? How old?

Me: (Still excited.) Oh, we don't know yet - but there are more boys available than girls, so maybe a boy. And we are adopting a kid between the ages of two and six. Though we could go older if we saw just the perfect one for us.

Acquaintance: Oh. Not a baby? (With the tone of voice that says, "A baby would be better." Because, you know, they are the expert.)

Me: No... Bulgaria only has two and up available for adoption. That is all we really know about out kid. Oh, and our kid will have special needs. (I am getting annoyed at this point, but am still too excited that I get to speak out all I know about my cutie pie.)

Acquaintance: Oh. You must be a saint. (This is not admiration, but patronization.)

And before I can say another word of explanation, the conversation is quickly changed or the person just walks away. I have only had this conversation a handful of times... then I just stopped sharing.

But let me explain to you, dear reader, we are not saints. We are not better people than anyone else. We were asked to adopt, to rescue, one of God's little ones whom He loves most, to love and provide a simple home. We just said yes, where others say no. That is all. Even that did not come from us, but from having hearts that God has made soft and eager to return the love that He has so abundantly give us.

We are the same as anyone else. Are we stronger? No, God will give us strength. Are we wiser? No, but God will give us wisdom. Are we more loving? No, but God's love abounds in our hearts and even overflows.

A child with special needs is still a child. And a child who deserves life... abundant life with lots of hugs and cookies, and maybe even some baseball games thrown in. We are willing to work hard and long to enable our child to have this life. We want this life together with them. We want this child earnestly, desperately, and impatiently!

The Gift of Citizenship

Several weeks ago Mel and I went to a government office and then a police station to get our fingerprints taken. No, we weren't being booked (Danno), we were providing our fingerprints to the U.S. Government so that when our adopted child lands on American soil with us, he will automatically receive U.S. citizenship. It was a terrible ordeal - not because anything went wrong, but simply because we were feeling the intensity of the battle for our child's future life with us. This past week, we received a letter in the mail from the US Customs and Border Protection: our child's future citizenship is approved!

This for me is a big deal for many reasons. On one hand, a "new" citizenship is something that means more to me as a citizen of two countries than it may mean to someone who's grown up as a citizen-by-default of the nation they were born in. It also means a lot to me that something I really prize - my American citizenship - will be given to my future child even though he, like me, was born in another country.

Having an American mother, I was considered an American citizen the day I was born, even though I was born in a women's hospital in south London (right across the street from the Clapham South Tube Station - go Clapham!). While I remain a British subject to this day (and am very proud of that in its own right), I have the gift of American citizenship. It was given to me by my mum. All the rights, privileges, and responsibilities of that citizenship were granted to me free. That gift has allowed me to move to the States and make a new life for myself. And now I get to pass that on!

But more than that, it means something to me spiritually. St. Paul writes in Philippians 3 that we all can be citizens of the Kingdom of God, not just of this world. While we possess citizenships in the nations of Man, those who choose to serve the Lord have a greater citizenship in His Kingdom. We obtain this citizenship the moment we choose to be adopted into His Family through salvation. We then live, work, and have fellowship with our fellow Citizens and we celebrate daily our higher Allegiance (while still of course respecting and working for the spiritual health of our earthly countries - I Peter 2, Romans 13, etc). God created this holy citizenship and has been working since time began to encourage the human race to receive it through adoption into His family.

How is this relative to my upcoming fatherhood? My future child has no idea that right now, at this very moment, he has the certainty of being an American citizen as well as part of my family. He is stuck in a fetid crib in a crumbling orphanage, probably starving, emaciated, and dejected. He has no idea that Mel and I have worked so hard and done so much for him just so that he can come be with us and enjoy the citizenship we have. But one day, he will. We will pick him up and bring him home. He will enjoy his citizenship that we worked hard to get for him. It has been so hard for me and Mel to get this. It has taken time out of our work days, time out of our lives, time away from our friends, and has been unfathomably stressful. In essence, it has taken sacrifice. In the same way the Christ sacrificed for us so that we could have citizenship in His Kingdom, Mel and I have sacrificed so that our future child, even though he doesn't know it right now, can have citizenship in our "kingdom." But best of all, like Jesus who has been victorious and who rejoices when we obtain His citizenship, we will too. This adoption will one day be done, we will see victory, and we will enjoy our citizenship as a family together!

A Busy Easter

We had a busy Easter… which was fun… but busy. I am tired… but it was good.

The kids at our church did a skit… I was the narrator! The idea was that if I read all their lines for them with them repeating the lines after me, then they wouldn’t have to memorize them and there would be no danger of them forgetting lines. Guess who forgot a line?!? Me! And the kids all knew it too – they had it memorized! They managed to continue on with the skit without letting on – and better than some acting pros I know! I was so proud of them!  

We had an egg hunt… I spent a couple of hours stuffing plastic eggs with candy. We hid them and left them unattended while we went into church for the service. When we came out again, some hooligan had come along and eaten the candy out of the vast majority of the eggs. Shocking, yes! And no, it wasn't an animal as the candy was meticulously unwrapped and littered on the lawn. The kids were so disappointed, but our Pastor Kelly came along and saved the day. She turned a sad event into a life lesson on forgiving and praying for those who hurt us... which is a very appropriate lesson to learn for Easter!Those kids forgave quicker than I did! I was so proud of them!

We also had time for visits with two sets of dear friends – one on Friday night and the other on Saturday – that left us encouraged and buoyant. True friends always know the right words to say… or not to say… that can turn gloom and weariness into sunshine and hope. We are truly grateful to them… and for so many others that God uses to lift our heads when life gets tough.

We are waiting… and that is tough. Waiting for our immigration approval to come in, waiting for our FBI background checks to come, waiting for the next batch of kids to be assigned to our adoption agency so that we can look through the list for the future little Elliott. We have a couple bits of paperwork for our dossier that we can work on, but until the immigration approval and the background checks come back, we are stalled.



We can’t wait to have a son or daughter sleeping under our roof… but we have to wait. We are stuck in the doldrums, waiting for a wind to come and blow us back into the current so that we can proceed on our way. It is good that we are keeping very busy… and that our friends are keeping us encouraged. It is God’s mercy. I am sure He knows what it would be like for us to be waiting and waiting with no work to occupy our hands or friends to steady our souls.

Please pray that the documents we are waiting for to come in… and, when they do come in, for our busy lives to make room for the rush of action that will be required for the next stage of paperwork.

Thank you all!

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!