He Came For This

Every Christmas Eve, just before sending the children to bed, David & I gather them in the living room for THE Christmas Story. While David turns to the familiar passage in Luke chapter 2, I pull the well-loved nativity pieces from their box, figures which have played a part in this tradition for years. Sounds sweet, tender even, but the handful of family members who have witnessed this tradition know different.

2010

Though I am sure this year will be different (cough, cough,) the cacophony typically begins as I fetch the nativity, and it does not bear messages of peace and good will. Instead, voices defend their rights to wield favored pieces. The manger and a cow, each leaning on their three remaining legs, along with the one-eared donkey reflect aggressive maneuvers of years gone by.




My smile becomes more forced as we mediate the delegation, then relaxes as our participants settle into their roles. David reads and measures his pace as pieces are moved to and fro. I attempt to focus on the account, yet silently brace myself for the sound effects certain to come from one in the circle and the ensuing corrections, which will flow from the others. Both are equally predictable.

As David's voice tightens and I contemplate the pros and cons of issuing admonishments of my own, God reminds me He Came For This. His Son, Jesus, came for selfishness, pride, and cacophony in our living rooms. He came for cacophony everywhere.

God is exposing the cacophony in my own heart this Christmas. I, too, have been wrestling for control over pieces. I, too, am disgruntled over not getting my way. I have been focused on moving to and fro and have forgotten He Came For This. He came for imperfection. He came for pain. He came for broken people in broken places.

She will bear a Son, and you shall call His name Jesus [..., which means Savior], 

for He will save His people from their sins 

[that is, prevent them from failing and missing the true end and scope of life, which is God].

Matthew 1:21 (AMP)

Between Court and Homecoming

Our family sits in limbo for the next few weeks.  We legally have a new son, but we can not bring him home yet.  When we traveled to Ethiopia, we were required to present ourselves to an Ethiopian judge who would decide if we were going to be able to adopt our son.  She had already reviewed all of the paperwork and had a few questions to ask us before approving the adoption.  Once she had asked her questions and was satisfied with the answers, she informed us that we had passed court and she was approving our adoption.  We were, at the same time, relieved, overjoyed, and saddened.

We were relieved and overjoyed that we passed court and it was now certain that A was going to be our son.  We were saddened because we now knew that we would leave a part of our family in Ethiopia until the U.S. Embassy was ready to allow us to bring him home.

Over the course of the adoption process, I have loved seeing how adoption mirrors God's plan of salvation.  There are numerous places in scripture where we are described as becoming children of God when we receive God's gift of grace and mercy through our trust in Christ's sacrificial death on our behalf.  Most everyone is familiar with John 3:16, which states that Jesus is God's only "begotten" son.  So, if Jesus is God's only biological son (to use adoption terminology), how are the rest of us children of God?  We are adopted.  God has adopted us as his children.  He has one biological kid and millions of adopted kids.

Romans 8 (from biblia.com) describes exactly where our family is in this adoption process:

 14 For all who are eled by the Spirit of God are fsons6 of God. 15 For gyou did not receive hthe spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of iadoption as sons, by whom we cry, j“Abba! Father!” 16 kThe Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, 17 and if children, then lheirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ

23 And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have uthe firstfruits of the Spirit, vgroan inwardly as wwe wait eagerly for adoption as sons, xthe redemption of our bodies.

We, as a family, are in between verse 15 and verse 23.  We have now legally adopted our son, but we can not yet be with him.  The legal adoption has occurred, just as the moment of salvation is our legal adoption as children of God, but the adoption has not been completely fulfilled.  The adoption of our son will be completed when we return to Ethiopia and take custody of him so that we can bring him home to be part of his forever family.  Our adoption as believers will be fulfilled when Christ returns to this foreign country, Earth, and takes us home to be with the Father as part of His forever family.  May God speed the fulfillment of both adoptions!

Our Day in Court: Final Day in Ethiopia

Here's the post about our final day in Ethiopia for the court trip:

Our final day in Addis Ababa had arrived.  We certainly had conflicting emotions.  We were a little nervous because our court appointment, where we would hopefully be approved to adopt our son, would occur after lunch.  We were looking forward to getting home to the kids and seeing them again.  We were sad to leave the other adoptive couples whom we had gotten to know, as well as the wonderful guest house and agency folks who worked so hard to make us feel at home in a foreign land (truly living out Leviticus 19:34:  you shall treat the stranger who sojourns with you as the native among you, and you shall love him as yourself...).  There was a chance we would get to see A again, so we were excited about that possibility.

Our day started with yet another wonderful breakfast at the guest house.  After breakfast, we returned to the Bethany office for our cultural training, which covered history, food, politics and the wonderful olfactory and gustatory experience that is the coffee ceremony.  I had the pleasure of meeting Tendai, the Bethany director for Africa.  He talked with me about possibly helping out with some medical training for some of the orphanages.  I hope to have the privilege of serving in that capacity.

We then had the opportunity to shop for crafts and spices from local vendors before heading back to Lucy restaurant for lunch.  Today, I decided to try their ravioli, which turned out to be just the right amount to satisfy my hunger.  My appetite was a bit limited since court was still upcoming and I was a little nervous because I did not know what to expect.  The fact that our family might expand by a seven-year-old depended on this court date.  

We arrived at the court building about 2 minutes after our scheduled time.  Since we are American, our group was a little worried about the fact that we were not early.  The Bethany staff don't seem to be surprised by this American anxiety with time.  On Friday, when our new friends Mitchell and Teresa were scheduled for court, Teresa asked, "It's 1:45 now, what time do need to be at court for our 2 o'clock appointment?".  Abel, always gracious, answered with a smile "2 o'clock".  Having had previous exposure to the flexibility of African time, we had a little laugh with Abel over the question.

We arrived at the courtroom and were struck by the fact that less security was in effect at court than when we went to dinner at Yod Abysinia.  We had to go through metal detectors to enter the restaurant, but there was no such security at the courthouse.  After a short wait, all four couples were called in to the judge's chambers at once.  After answering a number of brief questions, the judge proceeded to inform us that we passed, along with 2 of the other 3 couples.  The third couple did not pass simply because a particular piece of paperwork had the gender of the child listed incorrectly.  After court, Firew, the Bethany worker took us to a coffee shop for a celebratory macchiato while we waited to be picked up again.  You periodically have to take a leap of dietary faith while in Africa, and this was such an occasion.  Foods and beverages that have been boiled or cooked are generally safe, so coffee is usually o.k.  The debate with a macchiato is whether the milk is pasteurized and, if not, did it reach an adequate temperature to take care of any bacterial organisms.  Four weeks later, I can say that no problems have yet arisen from this particular leap.

After our macchiatos and coffees, which collectively (for 4 couples and Firew) cost around 5 bucks, we all went to the hospital to visit Jay and Noelle's boy, who was doing better.  Following the hospital, we returned to our son's orphanage and were able to spend another hour or so kicking the soccer ball around.  Amy thought that A had figured out that we were going to be his family and noted that every time A got the ball, he kicked it to me.  Being male, I am much less observant and did not catch that fact.  I was aware, though, that my lack of soccer skills became obvious.  When it was time to leave, we were able to tell A good-bye and give a quick hug.  

We returned to the guest house to finish packing and ate dinner again with group.  Since we didn't have the chance to print the medical letter for the embassy earlier in the day, I handwrote a letter, to which Chris added his thoughts and concurrence.   We gave our handwritten, notebook paper letter to Jay and Noelle and then finished our final preparations to leave.  We had a group prayer before heading to the airport.  Birtukan prayed for us this time.  I couldn't understand a word of her Amharic prayer, but it was powerful and passionate.  Three (couples) of us were on the same flight and had a little extra time at the airport to socialize before boarding the flight for the trip home.  

As we boarded and settled in, we wondered how long it would be until we could return to this beautiful country and be reunited with our new son.  We wondered how difficult it would be to wait for the invitation to come back, knowing that A was now legally ours.  We have discovered since our return that it is definitely not easy to know you have a son halfway around the world that you cannot yet be with.  A few hours into the flight, I looked over at Amy to find her in tears.  I knew what was wrong, but I questioned what triggered the tears at this point rather than at takeoff.  She told me that she had just looked at the map tracking our flight path and our plane was just exiting the African continent. 

Once we reached Frankfurt, we had a short opportunity to say good-bye to our friends before we all headed to our respective flights home.  It was terrific to get home and be with our kids again, but we cannot wait to return to claim our son and have all of our family together for the first time.  We hope our kids will be able to make the second trip with us, but we are not yet certain if that will be possible.

Faith Walks, Ugly Cries, and Light Bulb Moments

One thing predictable about international adoption is the unpredictability. Prospective adoptive parents do sign approximately 250 forms acknowledging this certainty, yet the faith walks are hard. I'll admit from the onset we come in DEAD LAST in the waiting time category for current Ethiopia adoptions. So far, our process has gone about as quickly as it could, and while there's probably someone out there with a shorter time line, there aren't many.
But guess what? Waiting is still hard.


Forty-five days ago, we met our son (A). It wasn't a slow motion movie reel scene of us running across the orphanage drive, arms flung open wide, but it meant something. He didn't know who we were or why we were there. There were no tears when we left the orphanage, just waves and awkward smiles. A didn't really know who we were, but he does now; and, I can't help but wonder what he is thinking.

 

I've experienced a range of emotions since we left Ethiopia. Somewhere I admitted to the wave of difficulty that hit me as our plane left Africa. There have been other ebbs and flows. Last week, I experienced just about every negative emotion (stress, worry, heaviness, uncertainty, overload, you name it), but in the end, my brain grasped at the logistics mode, blocking out guesses of how A might be feeling.



As we reflected on the news that our case would be submitted to Embassy today, it was exciting to entertain the possibility of being together in Ethiopia soon. But this morning we hit a snag when a phone call at 9:40 brought unexpected news. Our paperwork had been taken to the Embassy, but it didn't stay there. Another form of one of the documents was requested. I appreciate the processes in place to protect children like A, but the delay was still disappointing.

An opportunity to sit alone with the Lord and my thoughts did not come until about 5:00 this afternoon. All day, I had bounced my feelings off of Him, but I had not yet been able to sit down by myself and listen. I was pleasantly surprised the elephant-sized burdens from last week were staying at bay, the worries I had carried over the unknowns: would our 3 biological kiddos stay here or or travel with us? would there be flights available? flights that didn't surpass desired on-plane time limits? flights with aisle seats open? flights that didn't cost $5,000 a person? Assuredly, there were many outbound prayers on our behalf before and after the phone call came.

No doubt I will pick up and lay down those unnecessary elephant burdens many times in the days (and weeks?) to come, but as I quietly shared with the Lord, there was still one pressing emotion: a disappointing sadness over the fact that we cannot yet be physically present with our son. Struggling against a full-blown ugly cry, I offered the admission, half-expecting to be chastised for some lack of faith, but my Jesus sweetly answered, "I feel the same."

He reminded me God also wants to be physically present with His children here on earth, but the day has not yet come. He reminded me I can long for time with our son, as long as I trust Him for the time line. He reminded me I can feel weak in my sadness, as long as I trade my weakness for His strength. He reminded me I am not alone.

Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.

Romans 8:26-28

A Church, A Shop, A Hospital, and A Letter: Day 4

Ethiopia day 4

Our fourth day in Ethiopia was a Sunday.  We awoke and had another wonderful breakfast and were then taken to the International Church by Abel (whose shoulder was still hurt and who still promised us he was going to go to the doctor that day).  We were blessed again to worship with believers from around the world that morning and met a number of interesting people after the service.  Following the service, Abel took us to the market so that we could shop for souvenirs (still in obvious pain, but with his ever-present smile as he patiently waited for everyone to finish shopping).  Abel encouraged us to haggle with the shop owners.  The best negotiator by far was Noelle.  My favorite quote: "I love to shop!  If you give me a good price, I will come back here and buy more."

We returned to the guest house for a traditional lunch of injera and wat.  Shortly after lunch, we received the news that the child of Jay and Noelle had made it to Addis Ababa and was ready to be admitted to the hospital.  Brandi, Chris (the other pediatrician with us), and I joined Jay and Noelle for the trip to the hospital.  Along the way, we picked up the social worker from Bethany.  We continued toward the hospital and then pulled over after the driver and social worker said they saw the baby and the orphanage workers.  It turns out that the person who drove them from the orphanage in the south had agreed to get them to Addis, so he let them out (in the median of a 4 lane highway!) once he got into the city.  The orphanage director, the nanny, and the baby crossed the street and hopped into the van with us to ride the rest of the way to the hospital.

The hospital is the building on the right

The gate to the hospital

We arrived at the hospital and were quite quickly taken upstairs to a "private" room (Privacy in Africa is not the same as privacy in the U.S.  We had several people spend time in the hospital room who were either random strangers or who really had no good reason to be in the room). The admissions process was tremendously more efficient that an admission here in the U.S.  Once the child was checked in, we waited for the pediatrician to arrive after church.  Chris and I were able to take a peek at the child and share our thoughts with Jay and Noelle.  Hopefully we were able to give some reassurance. 

What you do when you don't have a stethoscope.

I will not include any medical details, but I will make a few observations.  First, it really is a luxury to have a private room, even if it is not always private.  When we were in Kenya, there would be 8 beds in some of the rooms with each bed being shared by a child AND his/her mother.  There was no privacy at all in those rooms.  Second, I felt like the pediatrician was very good and that the child was in good hands.  Third, you could tell that the nanny really cared for the child.  As a parent who is adopting, it is a great relief to know that the people caring for your child before you adopt them are truly caring for your child.

We returned to the guest house and had a tasty spaghetti dinner.  I composed a letter after dinner to the U.S. Embassy in hopes of being able to help expedite the rest of the adoption process for Jay and Noelle.  My plan was to print it at the Bethany office on Monday and sign it, so they would have a physician letter in hand when they went to embassy.  More on that in my next post.  After finishing the letter, we headed up to our room to start packing, since we would be leaving the next day.  Our time in Ethiopia was drawing to a close, but our day in court would have to happen first.

Coffee, Thanksgiving, Birthdays, and Dancing (More of Day 3)

I don't think I have talked much about the coffee in Ethiopia, but, being a coffee lover, I should.  The coffee that was served each day at the guest house was some of the best I have had anywhere, and the coffee served in the coffee ceremony was possibly even better.

For Ethiopians, a coffee ceremony is an expected show of hospitality.   Whenever a visitor comes to your home, you are expected to perform a coffee ceremony.  If you have 5 different visitors over the course of the day, you are expected to perform 5 different ceremonies.  The ceremony begins with the host roasting the coffee beans over coal.  The smell of roasting coffee is one of the most fantastic olfactory experiences in the world (you may recall my description of the Jittery Joe's roasting house from  this post last year).  Incense is traditionally burned during the ceremony as well.  After the beans are roasted and any inadequately roasted beans are discarded, the beans are ground by hand and then the coffee is prepared.  The host will serve a food with the coffee, usually popcorn.  The popcorn is usually sprinkled with sugar and tastes much like kettle corn.  I had never considered popcorn as a complement to coffee, but it was a tasty combo.

After the coffee ceremony, Birtukan graciously invited to join her family and friends for a time of praise to God for a successful adenoidectomy for her son.  Although we almost take the success of such a procedure for granted here in the U.S., it is a much bigger deal in Ethiopia because the odds of complications are significantly higher.  Birtukan and the other parents specifically set aside this time to give praise as an opportunity to teach their children something about thanksgiving.   They were even hospitable enough to give an English explanation of what was being said in Amharic.  We can learn a great deal from other believers, particularly those who have endured greater hardship than we have.  What a blessing to worship with believers from other cultures.  I have now had the opportunity to worship with believers in Mexico, Cyprus, Kenya, and Ethiopia, and it has been an uplifting experience every time.  I might have been able to include Italy in that list, but we slept through that opportunity because we were a bit jetlagged. 

Following the worship time, we were also invited to participate in a birthday party for Birtukan's son.  This was another enjoyable experience.  By the time we finished the coffee ceremony and birthday party, we were rather full, but then it was time to head out to dinner.  Abel arrived to collect us and was wearing a sling on his left arm.  He explained that he had fallen earlier in the day and hurt his shoulder.  Being the gracious host, he still intended to take us to dinner, despite the fact that his left shoulder was clearly sitting an inch or so lower than his right.  We returned to Yod Abysinia for dinner with two other couples (Chris, Jana, Wade, and Jennifer) and Abel.  Abel helped us order and then explained the different foods when the food arrived.  After he explained everything, we insisted that he go home and attempt to get some pain relief and sleep.  The level of his pain must have been quite high, because he accepted some Advil and was willing to actually go home (after he was certain that all arrangements for our transportation home were set).  He told us he was definitely going to go to the doctor on Sunday.

We had another great evening at Yod Abysinia, with excellent Ethiopian food and traditional music and dancing.  The evening got even more interesting when the dancers came into the crowd to select patrons to join them on stage.  As the dancers approached our area, we all tried to avoid eye contact (kind of like high school when the teacher is looking for someone to answer a question), but to no avail.  The dancers came to our table and tapped Amy on the shoulder and brought her on stage.  She handled this quite well.  She ended up being asked to join in the dance (a wedding dance) and channeled MC Hammer and Vanilla Ice during her stage debut.  See the video below:

 Once Amy was released by the dancers (after a piggyback ride around the restaurant), we asked for the check and made an exit before any of the rest of us could be called up on stage.  It was a great end to a great day.

Embassy Lingo 101

Entering the Embassy stage of international adoption (IA) is exciting, as it typically means you're getting pretty darn close to bringing your child home. Unfortunately, we have to include "typically," because, well, as we've said before, anything goes with IA. And "close," that's subjective, too.

We're not there yet, but almost! Here's the lingo to look for the next few weeks:

SUBMITTED:  This means our family's application/case/paperwork is hand delivered to the US Embassy in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia by our agency's in-country team. Each agency is assigned a day & time when they're allowed to submit cases, Tuesdays for ours. We're praying our case will be submitted tomorrow, 12/4. Please pray the application packet is ready & delivered on time. We'll get an update on this during the day tomorrow as they are 8 hours ahead.

Then we wait (10, 20, 30, 65 days?) We should receive an email directly from the Embassy noting receipt of the case, then another when they begin the review/investigation; however, sometimes families don't hear about these steps. The Embassy reviews all cases to ensure the child is a legitimate and adoptable orphan. Thankfully, the current Embassy turn-around time has been on the shorter end. If there is a RFE (Request For [more] Evidence), you wait some more.

Wait for what? This word:

CLEARED!
This beautiful word (which apparently arrives via email in the wee hours of US time) means we are invited to schedule our interview with the US Embassy in Addis. TRANSLATE to BEING UNITED WITH A.

We (okay, I) jump up & down and fist-pump for 30 seconds, text parents, then immediately scramble to coordinate calendars with the Embassy and our agency to choose 3 dates all parties are available to complete the in-country interview.

While waiting ?-48 hours to hear the confirmed interview date, we (I) hurriedly contact the travel agent, our agency, house & dog caregivers (hopefully none for the kiddos, as we're praying they'll travel with us); and jump through ?#?#?# hoops to get us ready to fly to Ethiopia ASAP.

I'm holding my breath and my heart rate's increasing as I type! I'm also realizing I typed a lot of words to teach you two: SUBMITTED and CLEARED! Unless you're new here, it's no surprise. 

The Sponsored Child: Two Decades Later

So, our third day in Ethiopia was Saturday, November 3.  We awoke and had another delicious breakfast at Morning Coffee Guest House before heading to the main office of the Yezelalem Minch ministry.  The story of Yezelalem Minch is quite inspiring.  One of the founders, Birtukan, runs the Morning Coffee Guest House.  When she was a child, she was sponsored by World Vision.  When she grew up, she went to work for World Vision and would go about her usual life when she wasn't working.  One day, she was reading a letter from a sponsor to a sponsored child.  Birtukan had always figured that all sponsors were rich Americans or Europeans who had plenty of extra money to give toward sponsorship.  This letter changed her point of view and the path of her life.  This letter was from a disabled man on a fixed income who explained that he felt led to sponsor a child despite his limited resources.  Birtukan was struck by this and thought (paraphrase by me), "This man is disabled and he is helping these children.  Look at me, I am able-bodied.  What I am doing?"

That letter spawned in Birtukan a strong desire to help orphans.  What began with someone sponsoring a child through World Vision has led to that sponsored child taking some orphans into her home and then beginning a ministry that now reaches over 1200 needy orphans and widows.  Among other types of ministry, YM has a feeding program that feeds hundreds of orphans and widows each Saturday.  For many of these kids, this may be the most nutritious meal of the week.  We were blessed to be able to participate in the feeding program on this particular Saturday (though I think we slowed the process down, the usual workers were very gracious to let us participate).  

While we were there, Nesibu (Birtukan's husband) gave us a tour of the building where they have begun a pilot program offering a preschool for the children of single mothers.  This free preschool feeds the children two meals a day and allows the mothers to work to support their kids.  If you need a worthy place to give financial support, consider Yezelalem Minch.  You can give to them through Bethany Christian Services or Helps International Ministries.

After the feeding program, we returned to the MCGH to have lunch, another delicious meal of tacos on homemade tortillas.  In the afternoon, Birtukan had arranged for us to participate in a coffee ceremony with her and the other families staying at the guest house.  If you love coffee, don't miss my next post.