Jacob and Carrie :: NowHere {Formerly Signs of Hope}

Child's Play

2012-05-22T08:30:00.000-05:00

Source: weheartit.com via Ashley on Pinterest

She excitedly points out every balloon she sees.

Of course she does, we scoff. She's 17 months old. It's child's play.

But is it? She lives with such joy. Such pleasure. Such whimsy. She notices the little gifts in ordinary moments - a balloon dangling about the meat counter at the grocery store - that tell her the ordinary is really extraordinary, expecting something wonderful and noticing even when it is small.

She shrieks with laughter each and every time I pretend I can't see her standing behind me and act surprised when she jumps on my back.

Of course she does, we scoff. She's a little girl. It's child's play.

But is it? She lives with such delight. Looking for the surprise in every moment. Soaking every second of life in - neither stuck in the past nor imagining the future - but loving the moment she is in. Savoring it like a juicy red strawberry, warmed in the summer sun and eaten eyes closed so you can really taste it.

She hugs our little pup LeLe each and every morning, first thing when she wakes up. And when we come home from errands, she straight-away runs to plant a kiss on the dog's soft black head.

Of course she does, we scoff. She's a toddler. It's child's play.

But is it? She lives with such a big love. Abandoned. Free. Giving it away at the grocery store with a hearty "Hi," a big wave, and blown kisses for whoever looks her way... no matter if they look "right," put her first, or could get her ahead in life.

It's child's play, we say... But isn't it more accurately God's play?

Faith like a child... I'm starting to understand that doesn't just mean blindly believing that the impossible is possible. It means delighting in the daily gifts our Father gives each of us, trusting that He is sufficient for our daily bread, and loving fiercely and freely with no expectation of return.

I have much to learn from this child's play.

That's What She Says

2012-05-21T20:43:00.002-05:00

Disclaimer: This post is really for me. File it under blog-as-baby-book. I know someday I'm going to wonder what she was doing/saying at 16 months old. Now I'll know where to look. :)

My gal is full of chatter these days... I don't want to forget what she's saying right now.

Ball (anything round)
Bubbies (bubbles)
Zhush (juice)
No (very emphatically, most of the time. she is nothing if not opinionated)
Meow (when she sees a cat. or a rabbit.)
RHuff (mostly a breathing exercise, but definitely intended to be a dog barking. Or a wolf. Or a fox. Or sometimes any furry animal on four legs.)
DuhDuh (LeLe. Poor dog, her name got dumbed down.)
Mommy (Funny, since I've always called myself Mama to her)
Daddy
Shoooos (Shoes)
Hi (complete with parade-wave. this is her favorite thing to do in stores. most people don't notice, which makes me sad for her and want to stop them and tell them to wave at her.)
Duckies (debuted last week as 3 very eager ducks snatched potato chips from her hands.)
Ish (Fish)

She likes to point out every single bird she sees in the sky. And like my little brother, William, did at her age - every airplane, too. She doesn't quite say those words yet, though. But I think she's trying.

She likes telling DuhDuh no. She points her finger at her a lot. DuhDuh hides in the corner; she believes the wee one might actually have some authority. (Which just goes to show, dogs have a better handle on reality than their masters do, sometimes.)

My absolute favorite thing 'lil Miss does is nod her head convincingly while she's chattering away at me. I wish I could get it on video, but she always stops doing it when a camera comes out. She usually puts her two hands up and moves them in conjunction with her bobbing head, and her eyebrows always have this very intense/serious configuration. I love it.

She has a book and likes to point out the pictures that she knows, even if she can't yet say the words. Which right now include:
teddy bear
sheep
eye
nose
mouth
tongue (her favorite! she sticks it out!)
socks
eyes
baby
strawberries
bananas
apple
butterfly
tree
flowers
frog
airplane
car
motorcycle
pig
horse
puppy
kitty
bird
sky

Quiet Me With Your Love

2012-05-20T14:15:00.001-05:00

****I really want you to hear the song I included with this post, so you may

want to scroll down a bit to start playing it while you read.****

Sometimes we just get off.

     Out of sync.

          Distanced.

               Disconnected.

It was nearly 11 in the morning, and I'd already managed to do several loads of laundry, sweep the kitchen, have a couple of "important" phone calls, and I was hopping in the shower - but she was having none of it.

She was fussing at my feet, but I needed to get in the shower. We needed to be ready to leave the house in less than an hour. We had places to go and things to do. We were busy! So I brushed her off; told her to go watch Sesame Street while I took a shower.

Instead she sat on the bath mat and sobbed. I sang a song. She sobbed. I told her I could hear Elmo. She sobbed. I told myself that she didn't always need to get her way. That she needed to learn I couldn't entertain her every minute of every day. She sobbed.

But who was I kidding. We'd been up since 7:30, and I hadn't really "entertained" her at all that day. I was busily checking off things on my to-do list. Breakfast served? Check. Dishes cleaned? Check. Laundry folded? Check. Plants watered? Check.

Daughter noticed? My heart sank at the sad truth.

She sobbed. Big heaving sobs in between screams. She had completely lost control. Did you know that neurologically when a child "loses it," the part of their brain that controls involuntary activities like breathing kicks in, and they cannot respond to rational commands to "stop it." They need help to get back to a place of peace. Telling them to calm down; spanking them if they can't get control; sending them to time out to calm down. None of those common responses really help. I know this could spark a hot parenting debate (not my desire!), but honestly there is fairly strong neurological research that shows doing those things doesn't help teach a child how to find peace again... instead it abandons them to their own emotions without giving them a way back. (I don't have an online reference to this... I learned it years ago at an international adoption conference from a pediatric neurologist who studied the impacts of trauma on brain development. He actually showed us brain scan images showing the center of activity shifting from a part of the brain the child can control to the brain stem area, which is an area they can't control any more than you or I could. Don't believe me? Stop breathing. Now.)

I hurried through the last of my shower, wrapped myself in a towel, picked her up (still screaming) and followed my heart. While she grows up a little more each day, she is still a baby. And what she needs more than anything is to know she is precious, loved, and treasured. That she is more important than a to do list. Not that she needs to be more independent. Not that she needs to entertain herself. Not that spending real, quality time with her ranks slightly below laundry and slightly above cleaning the bathroom.

I sat down on the bed, cradling her to my chest. Her fingers finding my damp hair, she nestled in and breathed deeply in those heaving sighs that come after heaving sobs. I pushed the play button on the Ipod, expecting the sounds of the ocean - the track we have set to repeat that she falls asleep to every night and every naptime - to fill the room. But she'd been playing with the Ipod recently and must have changed the song, and instead in one of those "everyday miracles we call chances" moments, this song filled the room.

And am I so different than my 16 month old daughter? When I lose control, the only way back to peace is to find the Father's lap and let myself be quieted by his love. To trust that His love is healing. His love is restoring. His love is calling me into His destiny, away from the chaos and pain I find myself stuck in.

He does not ask me to be stronger. Tougher. To solve problems on my own. To entertain myself while He's off doing more important things. To calm myself down when I feel overwhelmed, lonely and disconnected. He asks me to let Him restore my soul, to make me whole. And as a mother, believe me when I say I know very little. But each day I'm growing a little more in my conviction that my primary role is to model this Abba love for my little one. To show her that she is so precious and so valuable that spending time cradling her to my chest and whispering my love for her is the most important use of the time I've been given. To show her that this is just a picture of the Father's heart for her... That He sings and dances over her.

I know I will screw up. I know I will again choose laundry over laughing with her. Doing the dishes over reading a book for the 1,289,204th time. I know precious few of us escape the childhood years without a bit of an "orphan spirit." But I am daily seeking to follow His Spirit prompting me in the ways of gentle love for my daughter, instead of succumbing to the desire for my child to look like other children who seem so independent, so submissive... so perfect. I'm going to stop apologizing when my daughter needs me in situations where other children seem just fine. I'm going to stop comparing myself and my mothering to others - I know the way I do some things seems awfully strange when held up in comparison to the "norm" but that's OK, because God has given me different convictions. Mostly I'm going to trust that as I prayerfully go through each day, asking God to show me how to love her, He will work out other things in her life at the appropriate time... That He is going before us both.

And I'm going to take more time to just sit on the bed, rocking with her, while we both listen to this song. We've done it several times now... and each time it is the same. We sit together, her wrapped up in my arms. And miraculously for my busy toddler, she doesn't move. She just rests. Reconnecting. Re-centering. Remembering she is loved.

And as I picture us both in an even bigger lap, so do I.

Waves

2012-04-30T21:39:00.000-05:00

Your curls, windblown and salt-kissed, hung heavy across your neck. Your cheek tasted of the sea when I kissed it. Tip-toed you walked on the sand. "She doesn't like the feel of sand on her feet, does she?" another beach-goer noticed. No, I guess you didn't... at least not at first. But by the end of the morning, you were scampering barefoot across the shoreline, chasing gulls and stopping to pet dogs and waving hi and blowing kisses to anyone who looked your way. And you were eating the sand... I understand wanting to try it once. I don't understand going back for more.

You also didn't like the waves at first. Clinging to your Daddy's hands, you watched wide-eyed as the water washed first over your toes and then all the way to your waist... leaving behind a trail of seaweed and starfish in its wake. We weren't watching closely enough at first... when you were brave enough to let go of our hands, we didn't calculate that the wave coming in combined with the wave going out would cause the sand to shift under your feet, sending you onto your back in that salty, salty sea. I'm sorry, sweet girl, that you first tasted the ocean as it knocked you off your feet. But though you were a little timid, we went right back into the surf again and it didn't take long for the uncertainty to change to bravery. Then you were charging head-first towards the open ocean... us chasing because we knew your courage eclipsed your wisdom. I love that about you.

You may not know this yet, or maybe you do... but sometimes we have memories that forever stay with us. Simple, everyday moments seared into our mind's eye so that at any moment we can remember the sounds, smells, colors, and moments of the everyday holy. To be honest, I haven't known I was making them most of the time. But I'm trying to be more aware. More awake.

And so I know I made one of those kind of memories this weekend... blonde ringlets bouncing as you ran away from me to the sea. Arms out, embracing all the beauty and wonder of this moment in life, your laughter came back to me with the wind. The way you run... indescribable, really, yet somehow full of frolicking joy, tiny toes leaving tiny imprints in the wet sand, washed away a moment later by the next wave. God help me treasure these moments... gone as quickly as the tides shift and the waves erase the day's sand castles.

This life is so short. So precious. So beautiful it leaves me breathless.

The Two of Us

2012-04-23T22:08:00.000-05:00

It's just the two of us. Me and her. Her Daddy's working a lot right now, and so we don't get to see much of him. We chat with him on Skype at night before she goes to bed. She blows lots and lots of kisses. And waves. And plays peek-a-boo. And maniacally giggles when he turns the camera sideways and appears all topsy-turvy for a moment. And when she wants him to do it again, she turns her head sideways and giggle expectantly.

At first I thought this single-motherhood thing would be impossible, and I felt nervous just thinking about it. (I must say, I don't know how single moms do it all. You women are amazing!) But I've been thinking today that this is just another example of how when we stay with God in the present moment, He is our daily bread... which is always more than enough. We miss Jacob a lot, but the only time I ever feel completely and utterly overwhelmed is when I'm fretting about the weeks ahead. When I just think about the plan for today, it's totally manageable. God is present with me now... my fears for the future are just conjecture, and that's not His territory.

She is such a delight... and one smart cookie if I say so myself! She's learning so much every day. She knows where to look when you say, "Look, Cora, a bird!" or "Look, Cora, a plane." Or, "It's superman!" (Just kidding on the last one.) While she doesn't yet say most of them, she knows the words for shoes, socks, belly button, snack, juice, drink, hungry, diaper, Sesame Street, remote, phone, book, banana... just to name a few. If you ask her where her nose is, she sticks her finger up it. If you tell her it's time to take a nap, she runs to turn her music on. If you get out of the shower, she pulls your towel of the rack and hands it to you. I can tell she's sort of Chinese... when she says the word "ball" it is always in the third tone - falling/rising. And when she says mama, her voice gets exceptionally soft and sweet, and she always follows it up with a hug and a kiss. We dance in the living room together. Hands lifted high, swirling and shrieking to the music. Joy oozes from her every pore.

I get a little misty-eyed when I think about how fast she's changing, but then I'm having such a blast with her every day that I don't want her any other way than the way she is right now. Doesn't motherhood give you a glimpse of the Father's heart for us? She is just such a pure delight to me. Even on the hard days - the fussy, teething, ear-infection, snot-nosed, bad sleeping, both of us crying hard days (we had a lot of those recently!) - If getting rid of the difficult moment meant letting go of her, she couldn't be clawed from my fingers. And I think that's how it is with the Father... even on our no good very bad days, He's delighting in us... not for who we are or how we're behaving or whether or not we're pleasant to be around, but just because we are. We are His. And therefore, we are lovely. We are precious. Just like she is to me. And I don't want to miss a moment.

Changing

2012-04-12T15:35:00.001-05:00

I decided it was time to change the design of the blog. This blog is no longer about "Life in a Chinese Foster Home." It's about life now and here. I'm not going to lie... it's a hard transition for me to make. (And to be fully honest, a big part of the reason why I rarely write. I was the "life in a Chinese foster home" blogger. Now that I'm not that, I seemed to have a hard time seeing myself as anything else.) How hard it is to fully remain in the present, for as Brennan Manning said in his beautiful book, Ruthless Trust, it often feels like nowhere.

So I'm going to be working on a new look... might take me some time. But I felt like I needed to at least start the change, and I gotta say... it made me a little sad.

For now, I'm leaving you with some beautiful words written by a dear friend, Katrina. She sent them in an email to me and several others this morning. I asked if I could share them with you, and she said yes... the theme of change, God doing something new in a sometimes chaotic and "unorganized" way, the fact that sometimes His creation looks like destruction to our orderly human eyes... all of that just spoke to me this morning, and I wanted to share it.

The mundane is often the most beautiful.

Straight lines, the perfect kind of 180 degree angles, are the creation of man.

I walk home every evening, admiring tall glass storefronts cut into perfect squares and rectangles. A Holiday Inn near my home is being constructed from the ground up. Every day I see the progress. There are concrete-lain staircases at least 4 stories tall, waiting for the rest of the building to be erected. Cranes and scaffolding change each day. I watch men connected to cables be lifted towards the heavens, to drill into metal beams. Only a block away, buildings hundreds of years old are settled along the street row with roofs and windows and doorways, all cut from straight lines. Every window, every archway, is unique. The sidewalks under my feet are in blocks, divided by lines that were produced from a mold, from a stick, from an instrument that measured 180 degrees.

In nature, there are no beautiful straight lines. The stripes in a tiger's fur, the jagged bolt of lightening through a night sky, the rings of a tree, stem of a flower. They are all round or jagged or slightly slanted. God doesn't own a ruler or a protractor up in space. His hands don't follow rules. And when we least expect it, He cracks the edges of a perfectly planned sidewalk with rain. He sinks the foundation of 100 year old buildings, bringing windows and doorways into tilts. The roots of trees grow up through cemeteries, pushing over 17th century headstones, slowly cracking through perfectly pressed letters that spell the name and dates of a time and friend once fondly remembered.

Need to Write

2012-04-11T09:03:00.000-05:00

The words sometimes bubble and swell, right under the surface. I feel them in my fingertips - memories of the keys I would push to turn them into black and white. But I push it off. Another sippy cup to fill, another knee to kiss, another neck to embrace. I love this crazy, chaotically busy season of my life. Love my crazy, chaotically busy girl. But it does sometimes feel like the words are caught. And in some strange way, I ache… I'm not complete without those words.

Last week in my Bible study, I read a section from my journal to the group. When I finished, one of the girls in the group said to me, "You need to write, Carrie. You have a gift." It all flooded back… the need to write. The months of unwritten words. (Would you believe me if I told you I miss writing every day? Not a day goes by that I don't think about it.) The reasons why… it isn't just the busy-ness of full-fledged toddlerhood. It is this nagging sense that now my life isn't worth writing about. Sippy cups and skinned knees and slobbery kisses… the stuff of my life, but often so seemingly unremarkable.

But it isn't, is it? It is holy if we look at it properly. My vision needs checked - and not just my eyes. My perception is often so upside down. The seemingly insignificant is really what matters while the stuff I see as grand and important doesn't matter a bit.

Right now she is roaming the yard, one big toe poking through the hole in her pajamas (which drives her a little crazy), picking leaves from the rosemary bush I planted this week. And I will let her… I'm choosing words over the plant right now. Besides I know she likes the smell of rosemary on her fingers.

It's a strange morning to pick this back up again. Baby girl has a double ear infection, is teething, and my throat is all scratchy from springtime allergies. Jacob is gone, and we've been up since 4:30 - her screaming and me shushing. There's a long day stretching ahead, and if I think too much about it I start feeling a little overwhelmed.

So instead I'm just going to stop. Breathe in the morning air. Hear the birds singing in the trees. Listen to her giggle as she chases LeLe through the yard. (She's giggling and not screaming!!) See the sun shining on her golden hair. Taste the sweet bitterness of this coffee. Write these words. And thank Jesus for being more than enough for me today.

One.

2012-01-04T22:05:00.000-06:00

And so you are one.

A couple weeks young and fresh.

Where did these last 365 days go to? It feels like yesterday when the doctor announced "It's a girl!" and I announced I was so glad that I wasn't pregnant anymore. (That really was the first thing that came to mind...) And they laid you on my chest and the nurses started admiring your double eyelids, a mark of beauty in many Asian countries.

What none of us knew then, since none of us really knew then you, is that what makes you most beautiful is your heart. It is so full of life, love, and joy - it nearly overwhelms me!

With your great-grandma.

Just last week, you ran around the dining room of your great-grandmother's retirement home, shrieking at all the residents and stopping at nearly every table to give them your trademark scrunched-up nose/eye smile and your high-pitched, joy-filled, "HIIIIII!" I loved watching you. And watching them. You could feel the joy build in the room... people were laughing and smiling and vying for your attention. And you weren't stingy with affection. You had joy to share and you freely gave it; I feel blessed that I get to share you with others. One of the ladies told me you were the highlight of her week. Sweet girl, you are the highlight of my life.

Kissing your other great-grandma.

You spent the Christmas holidays kissing your cousins. You love children (and dogs) more than anything, but neither are willing to stay still long enough for you to kiss as much as you'd like. You're generous in your kisses for me, but not your daddy. I think you enjoy teasing him. I see it in the sparkle in your eye as you coyly turn your face from his kiss. I want to tell him he shouldn't be surprised... after all, you are a girl. You want to be pursued. I love picturing the woman you will become under his gentle love. Girls need daddies more than anything, and you have a good one. Even if you won't kiss him.

Your turn at the China birthday party.

I got the most amazing gift today... a picture in my email. Your life is celebrated and cherished not just by me and your family, but also by the rest of our family half a world away. They lit a candle and sang a song for you during the monthly birthday party at the foster home. I pray that as you grow, you always have an extra-large space in your heart for the place you "came from," as some of our friends over there like to say. I want you to know the people who loved and nurtured us even as we were just learning to love and nurture you. I want you to know that the world - with all its diversity and difference - is brimming with God's goodness. His hand is on all people in all places, and you can be an instrument of love and joy for all people in all places you go. May you always have the courage and bravery of spirit that you have now -- to confidently walk into an unknown place and bring His love to any you meet, regardless of how different they may look or sound or be.

As I rocked you to sleep last night, you stared up at me in the darkness, those big grey-blue eyes unblinking and still. And I started talking to you. Telling you that you are precious and such a gift. Telling you about our Father who loves you more than anything, just as you are right now. You don't need to be better, or stronger, or kinder, or smarter, or prettier, or anything more than who He created you to be. I whispered these things to you. I will keep telling you until the words are written on your heart. If you bring Him half as much joy as you bring me, His heart must be swelling. I know it is. I can see it in your eyes and hear it in your laughter.

At Christmas.

I love rocking you... I'm thankful you still let me. Some nights I wish you could go to sleep on your own, especially after talking to other mamas who seem to have sleeping-machines for children, but most of the time I realize just how short these days truly are and I don't wish them away. I realize that they'll be gone in a flash. I think about how I already miss the cooing, sweet infant I held this time last year. And how I miss the naps you used to take curled up on my chest. So sweet girl, I'll keep rocking you as long as you'll let me. It's all going a bit too fast for me anyway... slowing down to rock you to sleep might make it last just a little bit longer.

Love,
Mama

Merry and Bright

2011-12-19T17:11:00.000-06:00

Merry Christmas from our little family!

Reentry

2011-12-16T09:48:00.001-06:00

I used to watch those space movies - like Apollo 13 - and be most terrified when the astronauts were finally coming home. Were they going to make it? Were they going to burn up in the atmosphere?

Reentry is full of pressure, heat, the stripping away of protective layers, fear, anticipation, and uncertainty.

Image Credit

I know. Because I've been doing it for nearly a year.

This time last year, I was still in China - writing about my fearful anticipation of reentry to the USA (and entry into motherhood). (And my longing to be DONE with pregnancy.) I can look back on those posts now and see that God has met my every need in this transition... That most of my fears went unrealized, and that the ones that were real were manageable when I approached them one day at a time. (Doesn't He promise to be our daily bread?)

But what I didn't anticipate was how lost I'd feel. I guess I thought once we got through all the fiery challenges of the outer atmosphere, it'd be smooth sailing. (Excuse my mixed metaphors.) We'd get the place to live, get the job, and settle into a nice little neat life with easy access to Target. (A longtime dream of mine.) Now we're there - Target is 5 minutes away, Jacob has a great job, and I have a new circle of friends to do life with. But I'm still not sure where I am.

Parts of me were changed and lost and transformed through the process of reentry. And to push the space analogy perhaps a little too far - I feel more like an alien in some ways than ever before.

Reentry hasn't been all that pretty. Spiritually, if I'm honest, I'm in a funky place. I've kind of given up. I look back on my last 4 years of life and wonder, "What was THAT all about." It seems to have no connection to this new life of playdates and lunches and craft projects. (But seriously, you should SEE some of the stuff I've made for Christmas gifts. ADORABLE, I tell you.) I can exist in both worlds fairly well... I'm not some weird ex-missionary who only wears dresses from 1980 and eats bugs for snacks. (Right, Midland friends? I'm not that, am I?!) But it just seems that the two worlds are so distinctly separate that my life in Asia was some weird anomaly. Some strange blip on the radar of my life. It just feels so Other from the life I'm leading now, that it just seems like an odd waste of time in some ways... maybe because I feel like there's very little "lasting" impact to show from it.

If I have any blog readers left (doubtful, given my utter abandonment of this thing these last few months), I can hear you now. You've always been an encouraging bunch - and I know you'd say things like: "Think of the children and people you impacted." Or, "The seeds you planted will bear a harvest later." Or, "It may be unseen, but it is no less meaningful." I know you'd say such encouraging things, because I would too, if the shoe were on the other foot. I don't really know why this is, but for some reason those platitudes have very little traction in my heart right now.

The reality is, NDFH was doing just fine before me and is doing just fine now. The kids that I was involved with would have gotten their surgeries and healed and been adopted even if I wasn't there. I've always said, and continue to believe, that the greatest impact was on myself. But now that my life is focused on such entirely different things, I'm wondering what kind of impact it really was?

I've tried to maintain involvement - helping with various fund-raising drives (WE HAVE ONE GOING ON NOW!!!!) and doing some writing projects for the foster home - but it just feels so trivial in light of the amount of time I spend going to Target or coming up with crafty projects to occupy me during nap time. To be honest, in some ways it feels like the values I've said lead my life really do not. And I've sort of settled into indifference as a result. (Hence the trips to Target and Hobby Lobby.)

I'm remembering now that some told me reentry would be harder than leaving. It's true. And so much harder to deal with, because the challenges, differences, and problems aren't easily identifiable. We're "supposed" to be able to just jump back into this life where we left off. We're "supposed" to be grateful to be home. We're "supposed" to be a lot of things. Lost, confused, disheartened, and undirected isn't among them...

A Joyful Gift

2011-12-07T14:02:00.002-06:00

I've been far too silent on this blog... so much going on my life and in my heart. But can't put it all into words right now.

So I'll just say this.

Remember this last summer when we raised $30,000 for our much-loved NDFH? Well we're at it again. Two NDFH adoptive families have each pledged $2500 for a matching grant drive. We're trying to raise the other $5000 this month. When we reach the goal, New Day will have $10,000; the funds they need to pay for Wendy's and Asa's surgeries.

There isn't a much more joyful gift than the gift of life and hope, don't you agree?

Details can be found on the Scarlet Threads blog... we're offering a few sweet rewards to those who contribute, too! Be sure to check it out!!

Happy Halloween!

2011-10-31T16:57:00.000-05:00

She's just so sweet...

So sweet she might just give us all toothaches.

Sweet Girl

2011-10-21T10:39:00.000-05:00

Oh sweet girl, you are growing up too fast! Yesterday you started trying to walk. I admire your bravery and perseverance. I know you are compelled to move on to the next big thing, but so often in my life, I give up when I fall down. But I'm watching you stand back up again and take one more halting step. (I think the cloth diapers help. Lots of padding for the falls.)

It seems the last few weeks, my baby is gone and a fledgling toddler is in her place. You've discovered how to open cabinet doors, and now your favorite thing of all is helping me to unload them. So far, I haven't gotten any locks. I've just moved some things up and away and let you enjoy the rest... after all, a little mess is a small price to pay for the joy of discovery.

And the dishwasher and the dryer and the bathroom drawers... you love to unload, unpack, undo all these things. Daddy's sock in my craft drawer. A small bottle of lotion in the dryer. You're also learning to put things in places, and so I often find little Cora treasures hidden in unlikely spots. And the TV. You discovered the power button. So now we have a piece of cardboard blocking the funnest game in town.

You love to eat... but lately it has mostly only been if you are the one in control of what goes into your mouth. So you feed yourself lots of snacks. Gumming sliced bananas while I feed you yogurt/cereal/applesauce is currently your favorite breakfast. It surprises me how much you can get down.

One of your favorite places in our little apartment is the balcony. We live on the third floor, and so you have a bird's eye view up here. You crawl out there and hold onto the rails and shout at the top of your lungs. Sometimes there are passers-by who look up and talk to you. And sometimes it is just the birds. But you definitely have a lot to say. Sometimes you sit out there with a bucket of water and cups. Emptying the bucket is a great way to pass an afternoon... and a little water never hurt anyone.

Speaking of having a lot to say, we think you might be a little Chinese after all. The Chinese have this amazing ability to have whole conversations in a series of grunts. Your Dad, a man of few words, thinks it is particularly useful. And lately it's been the way you "talk" to us, too. You make a grunt, and someone repeats your sound. You make another one, and there is a retort. And the game goes on. and on. and on.

You haven't been sleeping so well lately. Afte sleeping through the night a few times to show me you could, you recently decided that you don't have to do that. After all, I suppose some 3:00 am cuddles are a nice little break from the quietness of your bed. I won't pretend I always do it gracefully. You had me in tears the other night when you wouldn't let me put you down from midnight to 3:00. But then I remembered how I had wished just a few days before that you would take one more nap on my chest, so I lay down on the couch with you curled under the crook of my neck and we both slept. (You better than me.)

Some tell me I should just let you cry it out. But I can't. I spent too many years with babies who stopped crying because no one ever came. I can meet your needs, and so I do. I trust that someday you'll grow to be an independent little girl, but right now you can be a dependent little baby. I love every moment, and sometimes I wish I could slow it all down... for it is moving far too quickly. But I hear it just keeps getting better and better, so instead of wishing you'd slow down, I think I'll just try to enjoy the ride.

I love you sweet girl. You are such a gift.

These Days

2011-10-06T11:29:00.000-05:00

So where have I been? Well to be honest, I have my hands full.

With this...

And this...

And some of this, too...

Oh, and I almost forgot this...

It's been busy, to say the least. And on top of that, she's starting to teeth. So my sweet little happy baby has turned into a crankasaurus. It has been a little umm... shall we say difficult around here lately?

But to be honest... it is something more, too. I've been in a funk lately, too. Questioning a lot of stuff - like my purpose outside of motherhood. The "reason" for the life path we've taken and some of the experiences we've had and the effect they've had on us. What my identity is and why I feel so restless/lost sometimes. (On some days it seems like diaper-changer would be an adequate title.)

And the strange thing is... all of these feelings (though I know they are pretty normal) end up making me feel crazy-guilty because just look at the gift I've been given! Why can't I just be content?

No answers really... just questions.

Worth it All: Kevin's Story

2011-09-14T12:38:00.000-05:00

In light of the tragedy of losing Paige at NDFH, I cannot think of a better way to end this fundraising drive then with the story I have to share with you today. Laine, Kevin's mama, shares her story... a story that isn't yet over but shows just how very much this is all worth it. I love the end of it, especially.

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I have been so blessed to read all the amazing stories that New Day moms and dads have shared on Carrie’s blog the past six days! Haven’t yall? I mean, if these stories don’t increase your faith and make ya wanna give give give then you must not be breathing! :)

Here is our New Day miracle boy Kevin:

We first saw his picture in January 2009. After looking at his file along with the various cardiologist opinions, it was apparent that without further medical attention, Kevin would be in dire straits. Kevin was diagnosed with a severe congenital heart condition. He has dextrocardia, heterotaxy, hypoplastic left heart syndrome, & a large VSD. He also had severe pulmonary hypertension. When he was almost two he was moved from his orphanage in Hunan province to New Day in hopes of receiving the medical care he so desperately needed.

Here he is upon first arriving at New Day: Scared, Sick, Sullen & Shy

Kevin is a rare case, and the surgeons in Beijing were very concerned that he would not survive surgery. It was decided that Kevin needed to wait until he could be adopted to attempt any surgical procedures on his weak and frail little body. The nannies at the Healing Home took such good care of Kevin.

They made sure he did not overly exert himself. They made sure he had healthy foods to eat. They kept a close eye on Kevin’s oxygen levels. And above all of these necessities, they made sure Kevin was loved, loved, and loved some more. Oh how thankful we are for the tender care his nannies, as well as so many interns and staff gave to Kevin. We know, without a shadow of a doubt, that God used New Day to save Kevin for us.

Upon arriving home it was indeed confirmed that Kevin’s pulmonary hypertension was too extensive for him to survive the Glenn procedure, which he needed for his single ventricle heart defect. Instead of the Glenn, Kevin received a much less invasive BT shunt to redirect blood flow and hopefully help repair his damaged lungs. Our hope is that over time, his lungs will be in a good place that he might receive his heart repair surgery. We praise God that in the 17 months since his shunt was placed, his lungs have improved somewhat, and he is doing really well! Are his lungs to that ‘magic number’ where the doctors feel comfortable performing the surgery? Not yet. Will they ever be? God knows.

Here is what we do know:
God saved Kevin. While most moms of heart babies are thankful their children had heart surgery at New Day, we are thankful Kevin did NOT have surgery! The surgeons in Beijing were wise and discerning in suggesting Kevin needed to wait on surgery. Indeed, his little lungs just couldn’t have taken it. What a BLESSING that New Day has such caring doctors who look to the best interest of each child, taking into account their individual health and prognosis.

The recent death of little Paige has not only caused much sadness at New Day, but it has hit really close to home for us. Our hearts hurt for those who loved her so. Paige had similar defects to Kevin. We realize that Kevin could easily not be here with us today. Heck, everyday we realize we don’t have a clue how long he WILL be with us. Kevin is worth that risk. Paige was worth that risk too. The unconditional love that New Day shows to each child truly brings healing. Maybe their physical defects are not immediately healed, but their little hearts and souls are soothed with the balm of love and physical touch. They are EACH so very WORTH IT ALL.

The matching fund goal has been met, PRAISE GOD! But the needs? They go far beyond that goal, yall. Please don’t stop giving. After 7 days of stories, real-life-heart–beating-tear- invoking-stories, we can all see that every dollar given to New Day goes toward changing and saving LIVES of children who are WORTH IT ALL!

Kevin Today: Spunky, Sassy, Silly & Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!!!!!!!!!!!

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As Laine pointed out, the fundraising drive is over and we reached our goal. $30,000 for NDFH's medical fund. But as she also pointed out, the needs don't stop there. If you didn't get a chance to give, and you want to do so, please feel free to donate to the medical fund either online or by check - instructions are on NDFH's website.

And did you see the comment left on our blog yesterday?

As one of the families who is providing the "match" for this fundraiser, I want to thank everyone so much for their generosity and living out so beautifully the call to care for orphans. I am thankful we met our "goal", but if you want to give and haven't done so yet, we will still match whatever comes in before the chip-in ends tomorrow, even that which is above the $5000. I don't know our max...push us! :-) And dear sweet Paige, rest in your Father's arms.

So what do you say?! If you give and want your gift to be matched, please drop me an email and let me know how much you sent. I'll pass it along to the person doing the matching grant. Why stop doing a good thing!?

And in closing, I want to say THANK YOU SO MUCH! On a personal note, it meant a lot to me to see this goal reached. Margaret Mead once said, ""Never underestimate the power of a small group of committed people to change the world. In fact, it is the only thing that ever has." That, my friends, is what we are doing.

Da Da Da

2011-09-13T11:15:00.000-05:00

So lately Cora has been trying to say Daddy. At first we thought she was just making random sounds, and didn't want to be "those parents." You know, the ones who think every gurgle and babble is a budding treatise on the state of world peace.

But lately, she's become much more intentional about it... When he comes home from work, she'll say it when he walks in the door, and the other morning she was repeating it over and over in her crib as he got ready to go to work. It's funny, she always whispers "da da da" when she's talking to him or about him... otherwise her babbling is quite loud.

After I took this video, I replayed it to make sure the sound worked before uploading. Cora could hear our recorded voices, and she was quiet and listening until she heard me say "Say Daddy" on the video... then she started whispering "Da, Da, Da" all over again. So, I do think this is a legitimate effort at calling out to him. Smart girl. She's well on her way to having him completely wrapped around her finger.

You can catch another one of her "talking games" on this video. The last week or so, she loves to talk back and forth with anyone who will repeat the sounds she's making. In the beginning she was doing a bit of that. It didn't last long in the video, but sometimes the game goes on for quite a while.

Oh, and does she say mama yet? Only when she's whining and crawling across the floor to me. It's never in this sweet and cute little voice.

A Mother's Prayers: Khloe's Story

2011-09-13T09:11:00.000-05:00

Before sharing today's beautiful story, I have some very exciting news! Hope International, a small adoption agency in Dallas, TX, has just committed to giving the remainder of the funds to the matching grant drive. You know what that means?! WE HAVE REACHED OUR GOAL! (They are sending their donation via check, which is why it doesn't show up on the ChipIn bar.)

Say it with me friends - WE DID IT!

And it couldn't have come on a better day... Monday, September 12 was a terribly hard day for everyone at NDFH. Sweet little Paige passed away at 6 months of age. I know from my time at NDFH that that you wonder if it's all worth it when you lose a little one... it makes you question everything. So for them to get news that we reached the medical fund goal just a few hours after they got the terrible news about little Paige's passing; well I know it is a reminder that though the way is hard, it is the right path. Please be praying for the staff of NDFH today; especially Andrea, the nanny who first did CPR on Paige.

I still have the remaining two stories I lined up for this week, and I want to share them because they are simply too beautiful, too encouraging, and too amazing not to pass along. And, for these last two days of stories, I'm going to go ahead and leave that ChipIn box up there. Now, we have met our goal of $30,000 this summer, but I know there might be a few people out there who still want to contribute. Anything given from this point forward is simply above and beyond what we aimed to raise... one excess which is never a bad thing.

Today, Khloe's mama Tanya is sharing her daughter's story.

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Our beautiful daughter, Khloe Mei, was born in Fujian Province on February 8, 2008. Just two days later, she was abandoned at the gate of the local orphanage, where they quickly discovered that she was born with an obvious special need and was diagnosed with bladder exstrophy, where her bladder was actually on the ‘outside’ of her body. Upon being found she was immediately taken to the local hospital for treatment. However, they were not equipped to handle her case, so she was transferred to a larger city. This hospital was also unable to do her surgery, so the orphanage made a request to New Day for help. On May 5, 2008, baby Khloe arrived in Beijing. Her case was still too complicated for the hospital in Beijing to handle, so arrangements were made for Khloe to receive treatments in Hong Kong four months later. Over the next few months, she was lovingly cared for by the amazing staff at New Day as she grew and gained strength for the surgery that was to come.

In the meantime, half-a-world away, I had begun to research special needs adoption in China. Through a series of blogs and other posts, I began to hear the name “New Day Foster Home” popping up over and over in a rather condensed period of time. It caught my attention and eventually I spotted a link that led me to their website. What I found there changed our lives forever and would set us on a path that we were not yet aware.

The moment I landed on the NDFH website, I knew something was very different. I did not just see a list of “special needs” faces that I felt sorry for but were someone else’s child to worry about… No, instead I saw smiling happy faces. Short video clips of children learning, playing, giggling and having fun. Kids being KIDS! ~ Kids with a variety of medical needs who were also “fearfully and wonderfully made” by our Creator, and all of whom deserved a family of their own. It became blatantly obvious to me that New Day was a very special place and the children there were extremely blessed to be in such tender care. They did an amazing job of making these kids ‘more than a picture’ on their website and so very real.

Day after day, I found myself back on their site, looking at the photos and watching the videos. It wasn’t long before my two older children were joining me. We were all so captivated by the kids and seeds were being planted in all of our hearts. The kids and I started picking out a new child each day, learning more about their needs and praying over them. It wasn’t long before I had signed up for their Newsletter and after a series of correspondences, was asked if I would like to join their prayer team. I took that honor very seriously and spent much time in prayer for these little ones. Of course we all had our ‘favorites’ but one baby girl always stood out to me. I couldn’t put my finger on why, but it was clear my heart was burdened for her. Her name at the time was “Elise” and I learned everything I could about her need and the surgery that was to come.

On September 7, 2008 Khloe (then Elise) flew with Karen and Grace to MedArt in Hong Kong to begin a series of tests and meet with a team of various specialists before her surgery could take place. There are many details of ‘our story’ that I am leaving out here, but I will just say that God was working a miracle and he was allowing me to be a very small part of it half-a-world away. The day of her surgery, proved to be a sleepless night for me here in the States. I was on my knees, literally, for this special little girl who had stolen my heart. Thanks to the many sponsors who gave to New Day, Khloe received a surgery that was laced with God’s finger prints and one that gave her a new life and hope for a future. This little baby girl, whose pelvis was once separated and whose bladder was once on the outside of her body, was now “repaired” and with an outcome better than the surgeons had every seen in a difficult case like hers before! New Day kept a journal of her recovery at the time, and the progress truly is amazing. From the many prayers that were going up for her from around the world, to the top-notch care she received both at New Day and at MedArt, and the financial support of sponsors that helped to pay for her surgery and months of aftercare as she recovered… they ALL played an integral part in helping to make her the happy and healthy little girl she is today. Every single one of them are part of Khloe’s story, part of “our” story. What I didn’t know at that time, was this little girl named Elise that I was praying for, was soon to be my daughter Khloe! I was praying for my daughter, long before I knew she was mine!

In June of 2009, we received our adoption approval to move forward with making this precious little girl our daughter. And in May of 2010, EXACTLY sixteen months ago today, we arrived in China and saw our sweet daughter’s face for the very first time in the flesh. We boarded that jet plane as a family of four, and returned as a very BLESSED family of FIVE! We are forever grateful to New Day and the life-saving, life-changing care they sought out and helped to provide for our daughter. Looking at Khloe today, you’d never know she was that same baby girl. She is a thriving, happy, energetic, well-adjusted, loving, caring, silly, ADORABLE little girl who is very excited to start her dance classes this month. DANCE classes, people! From a baby who could not walk due to her special medical need, to a little girl who not only walks, but runs, jumps, climbs and DANCES! Thank you to New Day and THANK YOU to all of her sponsors who played a HUGE part in making her the healthy little girl she is today. Our lives are forever blessed and changed for the better because of you!

A Whole Heart: Adahlyn's Story

2011-09-12T10:29:00.000-05:00

Today's story is from Adahlyn's mama, Alycia. We have two days left in this drive and only need to raise about $1,200 more. You can give online by clicking the ChipIn button on the right side of this blog. All funds go directly to NDFH. Or you can give offline by mailing a check to New Day's office in Texas. Just include a note that says it is for the medical fund drive, and drop me an email so that I can include that total in the final amount, as it won't show up on the ChipIn bar.

Our daughter, Adahlyn was born in the coal capital of China. The city where she lived the first 13 months of her life is known as the "most-polluted" in the world. Because of the coal mines, there are a lot of birth defects. Adahlyn was born with "Holt-Oram Syndrome," roughly translated as heart-hand syndrome. She was listed as a special needs child. She has a repaired ASD (heart condition) and has a "radial clubbed hand." That basically means that she is missing the radius bone in her right forearm and as a result, that arm is shorter and her hand curves in at the wrist. Two of her fingers on her "little hand" are fused and she has no thumb.

Thanks to donors around the world, Adahlyn had her heart surgery soon after she arrived at New Day Foster Home. Last week, I took her in for an in-depth echo cardiogram. Her cardiologist was amazed at how wonderful her heart is doing. The best news? Adahlyn doesn't have to go back to the cardiologist for 2 years!

While she was listed as a special needs child, she is definitely not needy! She is smart, sweet and funny! She learned English in less than 5 months, and continues to amaze us. We know that she was well-loved while she was at New Day because she is so loving to us. A friend of mine was impressed at how seamlessly she fit into our family. It truly is like she has always been with us. We cannot imagine our life without her now.

Before Adahlyn came to New Day Foster Home, her caregivers believed that no one would want to adopt her due to her "defects." After we got our adoption approval, we discovered that there were 3 other families that wanted to bring her home!

At New Day, Adahlyn learned that she is a wonderful gift from God. She learned that she is well loved, and cared for, and that she is worthy of affection. New Day Foster Home and the donors that helped her have heart surgery will always be a part of our extended family. We cannot see her without thanking God for allowing her to be a part of the New Day family.

The gifts of love and health that Adahlyn received while she was at New Day Foster Home will be with her all her life. We are so very grateful to each and every one who gives to "the least of these." Thank you!

Back from the Brink: Evan's Story

2011-09-11T14:02:00.000-05:00

Today Molly is sharing her son Evan's story. Evan's is one of the most amazing stories I remember from our time at New Day... mostly because the transformation was just so visible.

For those who are just joining us, we're in the final days of a fundraising drive for NDFH's medical fund. You can donate by clicking on the ChipIn button on the side of the blog; all funds go directly to NDFH. And remember, all donations are tripled by matching grants! We are about 70 percent of the way to our goal... a few more days to reach the final 30 percent. Can't wait for us to reach our goal so that we can help more little ones like Evan.

It was mid-January 2009 when I saw Evan's sweet face for the first time. However, his story started long before that. Like so many special needs children in China, it is a miracle that he is alive. Born with a bilateral cleft lip & palate as well as other syndrome-related issues, Evan was in the last few days of his life when he arrived at New Day. He arrived at the close of December 2008; he was two years old and weighed in around 10lbs. Evan was, literally, skin and bones.

On that mid-January day, I did not expect to see the face of my son, but I did. When one looks at these pictures of orphaned children, or children who have severe birth defects, most tend to think that he or she is the child of someone else. That picture was my son, but little did I know he was in a fight for his life. Despite the grim reality that Evan was on his death bed, New Day took him in. They loved him, prayed over him, fed him and gave him everything they had. No one knew for sure what was wrong with him, but they did know that he was a precious soul. They did not give up, and soon, Evan could sit up again, then stand, then walk. He even began to smile. It wasn't much longer that he was medically stable and could start preschool. Then he was placed into a foster family.

Just a few short weeks after that we received our approval to adopt Evan, and he was home a year later. Evan is remarkable, and Evan is brilliant. He is tenacious and loving and full of joy.

It was my child that New Day made all the difference for. It was his life that they made all the difference for. New Day made it possible for Evan to not just survive, but to thrive. Fixing hearts and cleft palates are one thing, but New Day goes far beyond medical care. They also work to heal the soul of the child. They did that for Evan, and continue to do that with each new little life that is under their care. As you can see, Evan is definitely not the same dying little boy who joined the New Day family in December of 2008. He is an amazing and courageous 5 year old with a heart full of love and life full of smiles.

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Molly blogs at Everyday Miracles.

A Priceless Gift: Emma's Story

2011-09-10T10:36:00.000-05:00

If you're just joining us, we're in the final days of a summertime fundraising drive for NDFH's medical and surgical fund. We are $2,000 away from meeting our summertime goal of $30,000. And remember, all donations are TRIPLED by matching grants. To give, just click on the ChipIn box there to the right side of this blog; all funds go directly to New Day Foster Home and are tax-deductible to the fullest extent allowed by law. Let's finish strong!

Today's story is written by Emma Lael's mama, Andrea.

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Emma Lael Sisler... born July 2007 in Hohhot, Inner Mongolia... found in a hospital corridor at 1-3 days old. I am now the proud mother of this wonderful, smart, healthy, adorable, energetic, talkative, chatty -- Did I mention she is talkative? -- vibrant, sweet, loving, caring, compassionate 4-year-old little girl.

Emma Lael was born with tetrology of fallot (TOF), which is 4 separate heart defects. All four of her defects were major defects... on a scale of 1-10, all four of her heart defects were 8-10. She had her first open heart surgery in August 2007 and her 2nd open heart surgery in November 2008. Without the kindness and generosity of everyday people like you and me, she would NOT be our daughter today..

When I think of the people who donated to the New Day medical fund to help the children at New Day, my heart sing with JOY. I couldn't help her at that time; I didn't even know she was my daughter! God knew this all the time. I've had the privilege of being a neonatal open heart transplant nurse for over 28 year now; the percentage of survival without surgery for a TOF baby is ZERO!!! TOF is not compatable with life. With that said, Emma Lael needed to have surgery to survive; she didn't only survive, but she has been home now for 11 months and is off all of her cardiac medications!

She has been seen 3 times by a cardiologist and will have her next appointment September 20th, the 1 year anniversary of our adoption of her. The doctors in China who performed her surgery did a great job; knowing how costly an open heart surgery is the donation you give truly is a LIFE SAVER

Go ahead, be a LIFE CHANGER and help a child at New Day today. Emma Lael is a normal 4 year old who runs, jumps, swims, and plays like any other 4 year old does. Knowing she would never have survived without the 2 life saving surgeries she was given at New Day hurts my heart when I look at her today, but knowing total strangers wrote a check to New Day to save a little girls life that they didn't even know and most likely will never know... that is PRICELESS!!!

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Andrea blogs at God's Gracious Gift.

Maria's Story

2011-09-09T10:14:00.000-05:00

It's Day Two of a 7-day series of guest posts from NDFH adoptive families. Today Forrest is sharing his daughter Maria's story. I remember when Maria first came to New Day. She lived in the Healing Home, which was in the apartment directly beside my own. She was so very blue... literally. Her body couldn't get enough oxygen from her little broken heart. She was so weak she couldn't get out of bed, so sometimes I'd sit beside her bed and hold her hand and sing songs, all the while making sure her oxygen mask didn't slip out of place. In fact, I wrote about her in a couple of blog posts... (At the time, her name was Kerstin... that was before she was matched with her family and given the name Maria.)

As we wrap up the summer fundraising drive for NDFH's medical/surgical fund, I hope these stories encourage you to see the miracle of New Day from the perspective a mamas and daddies who are blessed to watch a little one grow up who wouldn't be here if not for NDFH and its supporters. Put yourself in their shoes for a moment... imagine adopting a little one whose life was saved by strangers before you ever knew her name.

Today NDFH has new little ones... Children like Rebecca, Luke, and Carissa. Someday their mamas and daddies will tuck them into bed and whisper a prayer of thanks for people like you and me... people who carried their children when they couldn't yet.

Can we finish this fundraising drive strong? I know it requires a sacrifice, but what would we not do for our children? We are just about $2500 away from meeting our goal... and remember, every dollar you give to this drive is tripled. $20 becomes $60. $100 becomes $300. And orphans become daughters and sons. Lives are saved and worlds are changed.

We can do this.

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Maria's the bundle of joy in the middle.

We have been blessed with 3 biological sons and with three adopted daughters. We first became familiar with New Day when adopting our third daughter Maria. After our referral we started seeing New Day referenced in some of the updates, so upon searching a bit we found that she was indeed at New Day.

We were amazed to see how wonderfully Maria was doing while there. We read about how sick she was when she arrived there and that it was questionable if she would survive surgery. We heard from people who had prayed for her as she had surgery and recovered. We are thankful for those who prayed for her and for those who gave money to help pay for surgery that she needed in China.

When we traveled to China to adopt Maria we were blessed to visit New Day and see Maria with her friends at New Day. We saw first-hand how the children at New Day were loved and how God was blessing the work there. Children that many said would not survive made it through surgery and went on to thrive. Children that would have died in an orphanage suddenly get the blessing of love and more importantly the blessing of someone praying for them. Just look at the pictures on the New Day site showing the remarkable transformations of children as they experience love and care like they have never seen before.

When we arrived home with Maria and went in for her first visit to the cardiologist, he asked “How old is she?” When we told him she was 4.5 years old, he remarked that she should not have lived that long. We knew that it was the grace of God and the loving work of New Day that was the reason she made it. We are confident that had New Day not intervened for her she likely would not have survived in the orphanage.

We are happy to say that since coming home Maria has had her second surgery and is doing great. Today she was in for a checkup with the cardiologist and he is extremely happy with how she is doing. She is even doing gymnastics this year and is active in so many ways.

We witness the results of New Day’s work every day when we see Maria running, playing and smiling. We are thankful every day for the work that New Day is doing and we whole-heartedly support New Day and ask that you too join in the match to help raise much-needed funds for this work.

Thank you God for New Day that has made a difference in the life of our child.

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Forrest and Robin blog at The Collier Bunch.

The Reader's Digest Boy

2011-09-08T10:34:00.000-05:00

"By God's grace He chose to use New Day, its volunteers, and its generous donors to save our son's life before we knew his name. The New Day family prayed for, provided for, nurtured and loved our son before we were able to." -Jenna, talking about her son Cooper.

I am super-excited about this next week on our little blog. In the final 7 days of our fundraising drive for NDFH's medical/surgical fund, I've lined up 7 NDFH adoptive families to share their stories with you. I hope that as we read them, we each remember that it could have been our child who needed the love and compassion of strangers to save their lives. The little ones who benefit from the medical/surgical funds we raise this summer could be our sons and daughters. We have one week to raise $2,500 to reach our summertime goal of $30,000, which is a lot of surgeries and acute medical care for little ones who need us to carry them through. I have no doubt that we can accomplish this goal; giving a few more children the chance to know the love of a family.

First up, we have Jenna, sharing her son Cooper's story.

10 short months ago we had the privilege of bringing home our son, Cooper, from China. While we were having his medical review done previous to accepting his referral, the international adoption specialist we consulted with about his health told us that from his medical records it seemed as though Cooper was "pulled back just in time from the precipice of death" when he had his surgery at 13 months old.

She told us that he is a "Reader's Digest" child. Unfamiliar with that term, we asked her what she meant. She said that he is a child that defied the odds. That by all human explanation should not be alive, but is alive only because of a string of really "lucky" and timely events -- and he is the kind of child that ends up being featured in Reader's Digest when they go on to do great things.

"By all human explanation." "Lucky."

No. There is not a human explanation, and luck had nothing to do with it.

We have the joy of hearing Cooper laugh big belly laughs because of the amazing people at New Day Foster Home in China who cooperated with God to bring him all the way from the other side of China, and provide him with the surgery that saved his life.

We have the privilege of snuggling Cooper close when he is afraid because of people who give faithfully and generously to New Day's ministry to allow them to provide life-saving surgeries for children who have little hope of survival otherwise and no one else to advocate for them.

We have the opportunity to teach Cooper about the God who loves him and created him because of New Day volunteers and supporters who pray faithfully and fervently for the kids while they are in surgery with no mom or dad to pray for them.

We are humbled anew by Cooper's presence every day at the dinner table, in the car, snuggled up on the couch, and while brushing teeth at bedtime, and reminded of the kind of difference New Day and the New Day family of supporters made in our lives. Because there is nothing we could have done to make it so. By God's grace He chose to use New Day, its volunteers, and its generous donors to save our son's life before we knew his name. The New Day family prayed for, provided for, nurtured and loved our son before we were able to.

As parents, there are not words to express what that means to us, to our family, and what it will ultimately mean to Cooper when he is old enough to truly understand.

God is writing amazing stories through the lives of the children that are saved at New Day. Kids that "by all human explanation" should not be alive, but are, because of God's grace and power to be "plantings of the Lord for the display of His splendor."

We are simply left to stand in humble amazement for all that God has done, and to praise and thank Him daily for allowing us to be part of the story.

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Jenna writes at her blog, Many Colored Days.

First World Problems

2011-09-07T13:52:00.000-05:00

It has been one of those weeks.

Our entire little family was sick... Cora had a stuffy nose and a cough one night, and though she seemed fine the next afternoon, three days later I was out of commission. I finally went to the doctor, and she loaded me up on antibiotics after diagnosing me with just about every -itis in the books. Jacob caught it too, so we were quite the sickly pair trying to take care of a busy baby girl.

But we all got mostly better just in time for our trip to Washington over Labor Day weekend. It's been planned for nearly a year; a celebration of my grandparents' 60th wedding anniversary. Except we never made it out of the airport.

A bird flew into the engine of our plane, grounding it indefinitely. The alternative schedule the airline came up with for us had us arriving at our destination at nearly 4 am TX time, a near impossibility for our little "barely-well" family. Long, ugly story short -- The trip was off.

So frustrating...

But you know... this is, as they call it, a "first world problem."

I'm not going to lie. It sent us into a funk and made us quite irritable and grumpy. But we are all still breathing. We do have medicine to take for our various -itis maladies. And our baby is healthy and happy and quite plump. My friend Caroline lives in Kenya, and in an email to me the other day, she shared this: We have a friend who works for the World Food Programme, and he described this tent in a refugee camp where nursing mothers go to try and feed their babies. He said the babies are so malnourished, they just vomit up whatever little milk their moms can produce. The other day when our errands ran a little late, Cora decided she was STARVING in the 5 minute drive home. She screamed the whole way home, and her cries made me ache until I could meet her need. What if I couldn't?! What would I do when she resigned herself to the hunger and simply stopped crying?

What do we do with this world?! This crazy, crazy world where a few of us are browsing Etsy for cute accents for our already beautiful homes while most of us try to cobble together something for our children to eat for dinner tonight. Where some of us whine about fallen-through travel plans while others make plans to escape their famine and war-struck countries on foot. Where some of us run to Walgreens to take away our every ache and pain, while most of us couldn't even imagine what that kind of medical care access would be like. Is it not absolutely surreal? I wonder every day why I was dealt the lucky hand...

I know I can't take the weight of the world on my shoulders... that's a burden He doesn't ask us to bear, for He already carries it. But He does ask us to find our place and care; to order our priorities so that those who have not can have a little more... to share with those who are hungry, hurting, ill-clothed, and without shelter. That's what we've been doing this summer with the fundraiser for NDFH's medical fund. We have one week left, friends. One week to raise about $2,500. And when we raise that, it will automatically be tripled to $7,500 and we will meet our summertime goal of $30,000 for surgeries and medical care for some little ones who don't yet have mamas and papas to do it for them.

Let's do this.

The Cora Show

2011-08-25T08:46:00.000-05:00

First of all, before we start the show, some of you have asked if you can donate to the matching grant fundraiser off-line. Yes, you can. You can mail a check for your donation to the following address. Please just include a note saying it is for the medical fund. And then drop me a note to let me know how much you sent so that I can add it to the total, as it obviously won't be reflected in the ChipIn box, but we want it to be counted!

Check payable to:
New Day Charities
P.O. Box 311671
New Braunfels, TX 78131-1671

And now, on with the show!

I've taken a bunch of videos of Cora in the last few weeks and recently uploaded them. Figured the fam (Especially my grandma and aunt! Hi guys!) would love to see them, as they often request more!

Here they are!

Swinging! Her new favorite thing.

Looking outside... and griping because she can't get down without falling on her butt. She pulls herself up, but doesn't like going back down. So she fusses until we help her.

Helping mama do the dishes... and playing (and tasting) some of the soap bubbles.

She figured I definitely needed some help cooking... especially with getting the pots and pans out.

It wasn't that long ago when she slept in a laundry basket. Now she's using them to help practice standing.

A Full Heart

2011-08-24T14:00:00.000-05:00

Many of you who have followed our blog know that there is a precious little girl at the foster home in China who will always hold a special place in my heart.

Her name is Cora.

We didn't really name our Cora after her; in fact, in a strange way, it's probably her name that drew me to her. When there are 50 children, it's hard to feel connected with each and every one of them... so when a fellow volunteer chose my favorite little girl name for the new baby with a serious heart condition, I immediately felt drawn to her.

And the connection grew... it was no secret that she was my "favorite" among the staff, nannies, even her home orphanage officials. Of course I treated all the children equally, and I truly do love each and every one of them, but Cora held a very special place in my heart. In fact, my parting gift from NDFH was a framed picture of Cora and me together.

I dreamed up ways to adopt her. Jacob and I aren't yet 30, but I knew the right people who could pull the right strings, and I wondered if maybe I could make her "mine" forever. But I never really had a peace to try and pull those strings. I'm no stranger to "working the system," but in this instance I had a very strong sense that I needed to sit back and wait. To be still and to let God do what He would do. (I did struggle with doubt; wondering if this was actually cowardice in disguise. But it seemed so settled in my soul, I could do nothing but be still.)

Naming our daughter Cora was actually quite complicated. I still harbored hope in the days leading up to her birth that the other Cora would someday be ours; after all she wasn't yet matched and we were only two years away from adoption eligibility. And I would often ask Jacob, "Whose name would we change?" But the morning the doctor said, "It's a girl!" and asked me what her name would be, Cora Eve slipped out. And in my heart I knew. I'd always love the other Cora, but I needed to let her go. I had to surrender her.

My two Coras.

And we left China a month later... I hugged her long and hard, wondering if we'd ever hear about where she ended up. I prayed she would find a family soon -- after all, I never wanted her to still be an orphan by the time we were officially eligible to adopt her. But part of me was so sad thinking about the fact that I'd probably never know what happened.

A few months later, I got word that she was matched... but I had no idea to whom. I thought that if it were someone who knew of my love for her, they'd tell me -- so I just assumed she was going somewhere I'd never know. It made my heart ache a little, but I was so thankful she had a family.

A few weeks later I got an email from a good friend of mine in Dallas... her cryptic message hinted none too subtly that her family was pursuing Cora's adoption. I seriously screamed when I read her note. And yesterday it was made official; they received PA to bring her home. My little China Cora isn't going somewhere I don't know; she's going to remain in my life. She's coming home to a mama who has loved her as long as I have, and she's going to remain Cora... the name that fits her oh so well isn't changing.

She's coming home, and my heart is so full at the goodness of God. How great He is for working all of this out -- without me conniving, manipulating, striving, or trying to work the system in any way at all. I am reminded yet again that when I cease striving and be still before Him, He always gives good gifts. (Well, I don't think His giving of good gifts is contingent on us being still; but wow! It's so much more amazing and This-Is-Holy-Ground-Aware when we've done nothing on our own accord.)