Finish Strong!

My sweet bug-loving girl!

Every day before Ellie heads off to the bus, we pray. Some days, I offer instructional prayers, like "God, please help Ellie remember to talk only when it's her turn and not to take more than she should from the reward jar." Sometimes, I pray more for her teacher -- especially as the year comes to a close and the kids care more about summer than math!

Lately, though, my prayers have ended with, "Help Ellie finish strong." We've been talking about that a lot -- the school year isn't done till it's done, so finish strong! Your room is almost clean, so don't give up and finish strong. Math homework IS hard, but keep a good attitude and finish strong. She knows that "finish strong" means give your best right up to the end!

Her dance recital is this Saturday, which means two extra practices. Instead of dance only on Tuesday, we added Wednesday and Thursday too. That's a lot of hard work for my seven year old.

As I tucked her into bed last night, her long week drawing to a close, Ellie spoke softly, "Thanks for praying for me to finish strong, Mommy. God answered that prayer today." Melt. My. Heart!

Thanks for praying. Of course!

Baby girl, I have prayed for you since before I knew you. I will continue to pray all the days of my life. I love you. More than that I rejoice that you are discovering how very much your eternal Father in heaven loves you!

Jesus loves the little children,

all the children of the world,

Red and yellow, black and white,

they are precious in His sight.

Jesus loves the little children

of the world!

Special blog posts about special kids

This week, I am honored to be sharing two posts over at Encouragement Cafe with Luann and Friends. Please stop by. I hope it's a blessing to you!

Jesus Loves the Little Children

and

Shattered Dreams and New Hope.

God bless!

Real life

The internet is a strange "friend." Some of us are consumed by social networks, speaking to others only through facebook, twitter and blogs. Others have forgotten that these "virtual worlds" only provide snippets of reality. Surfing longingly through beautiful homes, fashion pins and hairstyles on pinterest, our own homes are neglected. The reality is nobody lives in a pinterest house!

Others have lost their jobs and families because their "need" for internet gaming consumes their every waking hour. Teens use these social sites to bully others -- as if the face to face bullying in schools isn't enough. Some die from the effects of bullying or because their virtual self died. The internet is impersonal, cold, and untrue.

Yet...

Real life family!

I recently sent an email to the adoption agency we used to bring Ellie home, offering to write a post for them about the attachment and adjustment issues we faced after she came home. They asked to post that email, as is, on their blog and I consented. I expected nothing.

Within days, people responded. Other parents, whose kids weren't easily adjusting to life in a forever family, poured out their hearts, their hurts and their frustrations. My heart ached. Our hurts, dulled by the passage of time, remembered once again as I read their stories. The sadness. The disappointment, not in the kids but in the shattered dreams. The fears, will she ever function in this world or is she trapped inside the hurt forever.

I didn't expect anyone to respond to that post. 

Years ago, when we were going through the pain, I didn't expect it ever to help anyone else.

But God knew. He knew the challenges Ellie would have. He knew the war for her heart and mind that we would fight. He knew the joy of the outcome... and He knew that our hurt, anger and disappointment would one day be used for good. He knew that our journey would become the light in someone else's dark tunnel. He knew!

The internet is not real life! Facebook is not real. Blogs are not "real." But God... sometimes uses them to connect people who would never "meet" otherwise. God used the internet to take our journey to the Pacific Northwest and New York, places I've never been. 


The internet is not real life... but when we, the authors of the internet, write real material from our hearts, God does use it for good, to promote fellowship and remind others of his faithfulness. 


Today, consider what you post in your blog, on facebook or even your pinterest. 


Is it real? 

Happy Gotcha Day!!!

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, 

"plans to prosper you and not to harm you,

 plans to give you a hope and a future."

Jeremiah 29:11

Ellie's life began abandoned on the street.

Then God gave her us.

Stephanie and Natalie. Ellie and me.
Gotcha Day, March 28, 2005

And God gave us her.

We are truly blessed!

Ellie today. Seven years as a Dawkins!
March 28, 2012

We love you, Ellie!

Always and forever!

Ellie's Prayer

Rob worked late last night. Ellie offered our dinner prayer instead.

Her prayer:

Dear Jesus,
Thank you for our yummy dinner. Help it to be good for us. Thank you that I am here. Thank you that I have a family.
Amen

My sweet girl.

Rescued... Not exactly.

Ellie's been with us 6.5+ years now, and God is still teaching me lessons I never knew I needed to know. For some reason, the topic of her "rescue" has come up frequently in recent conversations. Going through the adoption process, we heard that all the time, "How sweet that you are going to rescue that precious baby." Or, "She is going to be so thankful that you rescued her from that horrible orphanage." You know, stuff like that. The questions of late have been more along the lines of "What made you decide to rescue a little one anyway?"

First of all, we never decided to rescue her. We were called to bring her home into our family, the missing fifth link. I had trouble wrapping my head around that -- it took me a long time to agree with God to expand our family. But, it wasn't a rescue. It was a blessing. We always saw it that way.

What's the difference, you might ask. Either way, she's here. You brought her out of the orphanage and into your family... yada yada yada.

I disagree. The difference is the key.

Perceiving Ellie's adoption as a rescue suggests some great heroics on our part. It puts the focus on us. We. Are. Not. Heroes. Rescue, the verb, is defined as "to free or deliver from confinement, violence, danger or evil." Granted, growing up in an orphanage is probably not ideal, and to be free from that environment is probably (hopefully) something Ellie will one day appreciate, but we didn't rescue her.

Ellie's rescuer is God. He orchestrated her adoption into our family. He provided the resources and funding. He sustained us all through the crazy preschool/therapy years. He has a remarkable and amazing plan for her life that somehow includes us. We obeyed.

And were blessed.

Abundantly.

To be called her parents. 

To see this smile every day.

To make pig tails.

To dance.

To play.

Blessing, the verb, means to bestow good upon. Most definitely, God has blessed us with our daughter's love. The joy she brings is immeasurable.

We are definitely not rescuers. God rescued us all. And He blesses, abundantly.

Don't you agree?

It's no secret!

At dinner with friends recently, they asked -- as so many do -- how did you end up adopting Ellie. We shared the story: God's call, His miraculous provision financially, the timing of everything, and more. We explained the issues Ellie had once home, and our unique training and experience that helped us identify her struggles early and how her therapist discovered the key to our son's issues. The story builds our faith with each retelling.

Our friends listened to all the "gory" details. Then, the husband friend said, "And I thought you were going to tell us you wanted to rescue her.... and it turns out, her story is all about how God rescued your family."

Isn't that just like God, though?

He sent Jesus as our rescuer. Our salvation. Our hope. Our joy. We don't carry the burden.

Sometimes, though....

We forget.

Mired in the moment, we forget all God has done. We forget how He rescued us before. We forget the joy that comes with new salvation -- with freedom from the binding shackles that once held us down. We get used to the freedom and take it for granted.

Today I read two verses that remind me how important it is to remember all the many blessings God bestows. These verses occur toward the end of the plagues on Egypt, where God uses the plagues to prove his power over Pharaoh. Exodus 10:2 says, "you may tell your children and grandchildren how I dealt harshly with the Egyptians and how I performed my signs among them, and that you may know that I am the LORD." In Exodus 12:26-27, God reminds the people again, "And when your children ask you, ‘What does this ceremony mean to you?’ then tell them, ‘It is the Passover sacrifice to the LORD, who passed over the houses of the Israelites in Egypt and spared our homes when he struck down the Egyptians.’” God wants us to remember his power displayed in our lives. He KNOWS we won't remember if we don't keep telling the stories.


Our lives are a living testimony of God's power, but if we don't share the story, we will forget. 


Let's tell the stories, to our kids and grandkids. Share God's miracles with anyone who will listen. When we pass it on, others gain strength from our testimony. 


God doesn't want us to keep him a secret. 

Hair bows and happiness

The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
“The LORD is my portion,” says my soul,
“therefore I will hope in him.”

Lamentations 3:22-24

When God called us to adopt a baby girl from China, I knew exactly how it would be. After two boys -- and the boring clothes and hair cuts -- my daughter would wear adorable dresses, with matching tights and giant hair bows. She'd snuggle close, baby doll in her arms, as we read books together. She'd be my "little twin," the two of us dressed to match -- or at least coordinate -- each Mother's Day weekend. A sweet little bundle of hearts and flowers.

In steps reality...

Ellie's orphanage, her first "home."

Our daughter was none of the above. After nine months in an orphanage, one of 60+ girls cared for by a staff of six, rarely cuddled and certainly not fussed over, she wanted nothing to do with dresses, hair bows or cuddling. I'd put the hair bow in and 1.3 seconds later it was gone. When she was old enough, she even asked for them. Still, they came out.

Forget the dresses, too. Anything uncomfortable -- seams, the scratchy lining some dresses have, elastic -- bothered her and she'd cry, wiggle and complain. She seemed reasonably comfortable in one-piece outfits and play clothes without tags. Good-bye frilly dreams.

Don't even get me started on the cuddling. I've blogged before about her challenges. We never got to cuddle her. She didn't fall asleep in my arms until long after her second birthday. She just couldn't handle that much closeness -- instead she'd sit on our laps, as close as possible to our knees, back rigid, facing forward -- no eye contact, thank you very much.

My dreams were shattered. My sweet, beautiful girl was not the human baby doll I expected.

Fast forward six years to this morning. Ellie is a first grader, filled with confidence and giggles. After breakfast, she ran upstairs to get ready for school and came back down carrying the basket of hair bows and a brush. She sat in front of me on the floor while I brushed her hair (she's growing it out for locks of love) and pulled it back into a pony tail. I found the biggest hair bow in the basket and finished my work. She jumped up and spun around, "How's it look, Mommy?" Beautiful, baby girl... Absolutely adorable.

My eyes filled with tears.

Then we prayed and I sent her off to begin another day of learning and fun.

Ellie doesn't remember her struggles. She doesn't know my heartbreak at not being able to snuggle her the way I wanted -- loving her meant letting go of my dreams and accepting her right where she was. She has no idea how I grieved and prayed and fought the system on her behalf. That's okay with me.

God knows. He listened. He answered. He provided the care. The wisdom. The ability to love differently.

Today, she's my cuddly girl. We read her books to her baby dolls (and the dog) together. She loves frilly dresses that flare out when she twirls. And hair bows. And nail polish. She's filled to the brim with hair bows and happiness.

Ellie, Dr. Seuss, Daisy and me

Thank you, God, for your faithfulness. Thank you for my sweet baby girl.

Memorial Box Monday: Happy Gotcha Day, Ellie!!!

Reposting from last year. Six years ago today, we held our sweet baby girl in our arms the very first time. Nothing much has changed in the past year, except now she reads, writes, understands addition AND fills our house with more love and laughter than we ever could have imagined!!! I love you, Ellie, and I always will. ALWAYS!!! God sure gave us a huge blessing when He gave us you! (Sweet girl, I am FINALLY working on getting all the precious photos into an album all about you :D)


From the moment God called us to adopt, our entire family was consumed with the effort. To raise money, our sons walked dogs, washed cars and pulled weeds for the neighbors. God blessed Rob with a temporary second job - that came to him. He didn't have to look for it. We ate a LOT of peanut butter sandwiches!

Finally, it came. We flew from Beijing to Guangzhou the morning of March 28, 2005. At the hotel, we were herded into a conference room awaiting room assignments. I pulled out my camera to snap a photo of the guys goofing off and my camera wouldn't work. Can you imagine?

Hours away from meeting our daughter, probably the most anticipated day of my life, the shutter wouldn't open. After some panic, yes - I freaked out a bit, Rob and I finally remembered to pray for it. We didn't pray so much as we begged. "God, please... let us get pictures today. Please."

We got our rooms and headed upstairs to freshen up for the big event. It wasn't all that refreshing. We had to gather all the required documents and force down a snack. It's not easy to eat when your stomach is doing flip-flops. I insisted on a final photo of us as a family of four... if the camera would let us. I situated the guys on the couch, set up the camera, sucked in my breath and pushed the on button. Voila! The shutter slid open and we got the shot.

We hurried downstairs to the bus for the drive across town to our little girl. They herded us into the dreary office building, up a couple flights of stairs, and down a hall. We passed Chinese women holding little bundles of love in their arms. Had I just passed her in the hall? My mind filled with thoughts of the moment. Meeting her. Would I recognize her when they carried her in? Would she cry? Was she big? or little? Cuddly?

Then we waited. And waited. And waited. (We really didn't wait too long. It just felt that way.) The dads arranged to videotape for each other so we could catch every precious moment. And then....

The babies arrived.

Thankfully, Ellie was one of the first couple babies they brought in. I did recognize her immediately. She cried. So did I. So did the guys. She was little. Tiny, in fact, and oh so sweet.

We have photos of it all. Thank you, God, for answering our prayer about the camera... With thankfulness, I place a copy of the first photo ever snapped with Ellie into our Memorial Box. The tears came just seconds later... and flowed for quite a while.

Memorial Box Monday started at "A Place Called Simplicity." A friend of mine introduced me to it, and I love it! love it! love it!!! Memorial Box Monday provides an opportunity to remember all the good things God has done. Huge, gigantic things and little things that might seem insignificant. God's word is clear: "Cast every care on Me, for I care for you." (1 Peter 5:7).

Christmas Shopping with Purpose

Merry Christmas to you all!

Most everyone I know has decked the halls, strung the lights, and prepared their home for Christmas. Houses twinkle with merriment. Kitchens smell of gingerbread and spice. But the shopping... Oh, the stress.

This past weekend, my daughter and I joined the throngs at the mall with some friends. We enjoyed sweet fellowship. We marveled at the pre-Christmas snowflakes (so rare here!). We shopped, too, but only for those items we truly wanted. We resisted the slick sales and impulse buys. We. Had. FUN!

Do you dread the Christmas shopping? The hustle, bustle and chaos? Do you spend money you don't really have, ruin the budget and carry debt into the new year? How about shopping a little differently this year? Why not shop with purpose?

Lots of families who want to adopt children make one-of-a-kind gifts to raise funds for their adoptions. Here are a few of my favorites. Maybe you'll find special gifts here and bless a little child too!

One of a kind fleece blankets, size 6'X6'
They come in a variety of patterns.

http://lhbocean-thebaileyfam.blogspot.com/p/fundraising.html

Key fobs make great personalized gifts for friends, gift exchanges and teenage girls on your list!

http://keystochina.blogspot.com/

How about something personalized? T-shirts and notepads, personalized for you or a friend. Great t-shirt designs for girls and boys!

http://cuteepiedesigns.blogspot.com/


















Isabella Bracelets. These bracelets are incredible. Feminine, frilly. So southern belle. They come in adult and children's sizes.

She also makes dresses for children in matching patterns.

http://orphaned-no-more.blogspot.com/2010/06/red-thread-stitches-matching-bracelets.html







I could go on and on. If you're looking for something specific and it's not here, let me know. I'll help you find it.

Fundraisers with purpose. Bringing children home to their forever families. Families following God's call and choosing to honor it without going into debt. Make a difference. Shop in your jammies. Bless an orphan this Christmas! What could be better?

Small business owners, if you're running a Christmas special to benefit a cause, please let us know!
1. First, follow my blog :)


2. Share the link to this post with your customers, friends and family. Copy and paste the link: http://karendawkins.blogspot.com/2010/12/christmas-shopping-with-purpose.html


3. Comment!!!! Be sure to include your name, contact information, what you sell/provide, and who will benefit. If you have a Christmas order deadline, include that too!


4. If your fundraiser is ongoing, let us know that too. I'll link back through the year to support businesses benefitting others all year long.


Merry Christmas, everyone. Happy blessing!

Memorial Box Monday: Precious Moments

This morning, like just about every morning, my daughter snuck quietly into my bedroom, rubbed my arm and softly informed me, "Mommy, it's time to get up."

Like every morning, I opened my eyes (begrudgingly. Morning comes too early!) and gave her the really-you-must-be-kidding-it's-too-early glare. She smiles broadly, "Or do you want to hit the snooze button?" By the way, that question comes from years of marriage and me asking if I can hit the snooze just one more time.

I reached out from under the snuggly covers and patted her on the head. She giggled and ran out the door yelling, "Daddy, she hit the snooze button!"

Even if I am ready to get up, I think I'll always hit the snooze button just to hear her laugh.

God called our family to adopt Ellie. We knew what we'd provide for her: a safe home, love, physical, emotional and spiritual nourishment, opportunity, family. We knew she'd add a new dimension to our family. I never anticipated how great her gift would be. Thank you, God, for the gifts you gave us through Ellie: playfulness, a generous heart, a nurturing spirit, and joy. We love you, sweet pea.

I can't capture the sound of her laugh for our memorial box. I can include this picture - classic Ellie!

Ellie's first day of kindergarten. She's our special gift.

Goofing off with her friends!

Memorial Box Monday started at "A Place Called Simplicity." A friend of mine introduced me to it last week, and I love it! love it! love it!!! Memorial Box Monday provides an opportunity to remember all the good things God has done. Huge, gigantic things and little things that might seem insignificant. God's word is clear: "Cast every care on Me, for I care for you." (1 Peter 5:7).

Morning Routine

Every morning and evening they present burnt offerings and fragrant incense to the Lord. 

2 Chronicles 13:11

Every weekday morning, our daughter wakes up at 7:15. (Honestly, she wakes every day at this time -- even Saturdays. Thankfully, she has learned to read books and let the rest of us savor Saturday sleep-ins.) She heads downstairs, climbs onto the counter and gets a bowl. She pulls a spoon from the drawer and the cereal from the pantry. Then she waits. Patiently.

She knows that within moments one of us will come to pour her milk. (She can't lift the full jug, so she waits... whether it's full or not.) She carries her bowl to the table, wiggles into her chair and eats her breakfast.

She brushes her teeth, dresses for school and tromps down the stairs.

That's when the day really begins. Every morning, we circle up at the base of the stairs, joining hands to pray. We have so much to be thankful for: a caring teacher, good friends in class, and bus drivers who care. We invite Jesus to be the center of her day, asking Him to fill her with compassion and kindness. We pray that she will discover new things. Every day we pray.

She grabs her backpack, trots down the driveway and joins her friends at the bus stop. I watch from the window. My heart fills with joy as her giggle bounces down the street. The bus arrives with a squeak of the brakes, and without fail (except for one day when she completely forgot about me), she turns to our window, waves and blows a kiss. Then she's gone.

Dear God, 

May our prayers each morning be a fragrant offering to You. She's all yours, God. May she bring You great joy today. Thank You for watching over her. Thank You for blessing her with an incredible kindergarten experience. Thank you for blessing us with this special little girl. 

In Jesus' name I pray, Amen

Memorial Box Monday: She's the one

Memorial Box Monday started at "A Place Called Simplicity." A friend of mine introduced me to it last week, and I love it! love it! love it!!! Memorial Box Monday provides an opportunity to remember all the good things God has done. Huge, gigantic things and little things that might seem insignificant. God's word is clear: "Cast every care on Me, for I care for you." (1 Peter 5:7).


I first felt the pull to adopt in October, 2003. Our church was holding a women's conference and at some point during the day, this thought just popped in my head. We need to add a little one to our family. A girl. A Chinese girl. It left me feeling -- well -- crazy! I argued with my thoughts... telling this rogue all the reasons why we DON'T need to add a little one to our family.


We had several friends who'd been to China to bring their daughters home. We'd even lent our luggage to the cause, both happy to let the suitcases go and confident we never would. Our parenting "philosophy" had always been divide and conquer! We never intended to be outnumbered. We never wanted an odd number of kids... someone always gets left out. We had reached such a nice, peaceful place.


The thought stayed with me. I reasoned the thought away for months. "It's a midlife crisis." "It's the hormones talking." "You just feel this way because the boys are more self-sufficient and you want to be needed again." No matter what, though, the idea grew and grew.


I vividly remember watching an NFL playoff game with my husband. He sat on the couch. I snuggled in a blanket, curled up in our burgundy recliner next to him. My head screamed, "Tell him. Tell him. Tell him." As the football game continued, the internal dialogue grew quite loud. "This is a midlife crisis. I will NOT tell him." I didn't say a word.


A week later, in church I finally could take it no more. Our pastor had preached a sermon about reaching out to the needy and less fortunate. He was talking about world missions -- and shared the starfish story. The voice in my head was screaming. I shut my eyes tight. As he spoke of starfish, I saw row upon row of sweet Chinese faces, lined up in cribs, looking up with soulful eyes. It was so clear, I could ignore it no longer.


The congregation stood to sing the response song. I tugged on my husband's sleeve and said, "We have to talk."


"Now?" he asked, clearly perplexed.


"Yes, now. And you're not allowed to laugh at me!"


We sat right then, the congregation singing all around us. I told him bluntly we needed to adopt a baby from China. 


Stunned (I've never asked what he thought I would say, but I know it wasn't this), he laughed and he cried. I cried -- relief, I think, that I finally got it out. People around us had no idea what was going on, but offered words of encouragement. One sweet man said, "Whatever is going on, God will help you get through it. Your marriage can survive." I guess we made a scene. 


Rob did not say yes... yet. (Obviously, he eventually did... and we stepped out on an amazing faith journey... but that's a different story.)


Fast forward one year. We received THE call from our caseworker -- adoptive parents know the anticipation. All the paperwork, the interviews, the checks written, the money scrimped. It all comes down to this one day... the day we receive our referral. In China, the referrals come from the Chinese government. We have the option to accept or reject the child they match us to. Some of my adoptive friends have shared that they anguish over the decision whether to accept the child "matched." They wonder if they would ever know. We never considered that. We KNEW that our daughter would be whoever came in that referral.


The papers came. Instantly, I was in the car, headed to my husband's office. I wanted him to meet her at the same time I did. We opened the envelope and pulled out her picture. Instant love. After crying over that picture, swallowed up in her big, wondering eyes and wishing we could kiss those sweet cheeks, we read the brief report that accompanied it. Qiu Li Xien, our Ellie, lived in an orphanage. In.An.Orphanage. Just like the vision I'd had in church. In China, a significant number of orphans come from foster care, raised with families until they are adopted. Not so many come from the orphanage (at least not back then).


The next thing I noticed was her birth date. Ellie was born in June of 2004. You know what? That's nine months after October 2003. When my little girl was first being knitted together in her birth mother's womb, God was knitting her together in my heart -- no matter how much I resisted.


Dearest Ellie, I pray you will never doubt God's plan for you. I pray you will always know that He wanted us to be your parents. But if you ever doubt, I hope knowing this -- the dates that so perfectly line up, the vision He gave me that matched your situation, and more than anything, the love we have for you -- will help you get past those doubts and rejoice in the life you have. We love you!


So, into my Memorial Box goes this picture, reminding me of God's plan!

Sweet girls, lined up in rows... just like God showed me.

Memorial Box Monday: Our perfect home

Last Memorial Box Monday, I shared how God downsized our selfish, worldly house dreams to open our budget and our lives to His plans. It only seems fitting that I finish the story... You see, God prepares the way for our lives. His word says, "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." (Jeremiah 29:11 and one of God's top ten promises! In my opinion anyway)

The main reason we decided to build a house when we moved to North Carolina was that we couldn't find a four-bedroom house already built and for sale. Really! We live in a (formerly) rural area. At the time we moved, the typical house had three bedrooms. Big houses had three bedrooms and a bonus room over the garage. Houses around here don't usually have basements. Our real estate agent tried, unsuccessfully, to convince us we could use that bonus room as a combination guest room/play room. After all, "You only have two kids." Yep, we heard that a lot. And not just from the real estate agent.

No matter what, though, Rob and I couldn't shake our desire for a fourth bedroom. We looked at some beautiful homes with three bedrooms, but even those homes with all the bells and whistles couldn't get us to change our minds. We insisted on four dedicated bedrooms.

We finally moved into our home in November of 2002. That fourth bedroom that we insisted on went largely unused, set up as a guest room, but without many guests other than the grandparents. We stored things in there, but didn't really use the room for much.

And then... in October of 2003 (about the same time my daughter's biological mama conceived her), I got this little stirring. My heart filled with a longing for another child. Number three. The one we insisted we'd never have -- after all, we'd be outnumbered!

By January of 2004, I could ignore my heart no longer. I filled my husband in (that's a story all its own... I'll tell you sometime). Obviously, Ellie came home to us (about a year later). Her brothers still have their own rooms. She has her cheerful pink and green bedroom full of princess dresses, books and stuffed animals.

That little room no longer goes unused. It's filled with a precious little girl and all her dreams! It's where we snuggle and read. Sometimes, it's where we talk about life. It's where we pray for her prince. It's the place she goes to cry and think when she's having a tough day. And where we forgive.

God filled our hearts with a love for our little girl long before we knew she'd ever even be! I'll put a picture of Ellie's room as it is today in my Memorial Box. On the back, I'll write out Jeremiah 29:11. One day, she may need to remember how God provided for her -- even before she was!

If you don't know what Memorial Box Monday is, it all started at Linny's blog: "A Place Called Simplicity." A friend of mine introduced me to it, and I love it! love it! love it!!! Memorial Box Monday provides an opportunity to remember all the good things God has done. Huge, gigantic things and little things that might seem insignificant. God's word is clear: "Cast every care on Me, for I care for you." (1 Peter 5:7).

Community

My bloggy friends,

Yesterday, I shared a part of our journey with our daughter. It was one of those dark seasons, heavy, over-whelming at times... but God saw us through. Your comments and emails about the post surprised me. I didn't expect anyone to find so much encouragement there.

Yet, it's precisely the reason I write. I truly believe that God brings us through tough times so that we can support others. The trials we endure and overcome provide us with special insight. Being able to encourage another person, sincerely, is such a gift.

• "I KNOW it's hard -- but there is hope." 
• "There is a light at the end of your dark tunnel." 
• "Hang in there. Really, it gets better."

God's word is filled with the same encouragement. Reading how David overcame his struggles, or how Jonah overcame his stubborn self-will, or how Nehemiah persevered as enemies taunted and attacked, all bring me encouragement when I struggle. 

Sometimes I forget though. In those times, I am thankful for the friends who remind me that my troubles will not last. I am thankful for friends who encourage me to count the victories, not just the stumbling. I am thankful for friends who remind me that God is faithful -- often pointing to my own life to remind me!

We are a community, my bloggy friends. Thank you for letting me know I've encouraged you. In that, you encourage me - to remain honest, to live transparently, and to look always to my eternal Father. His hope shines in these stories of mine. I'd be lost without Him!

If you face challenges today you find hard to overcome, please let me know. I will pray in agreement with you that God will lead you out of the darkness. He's always answered that prayer... and He always will!

Much love,

Karen

Memorial Box Monday: We Made It!

This Easter, we spent a fabulous day eating, playing, and talking with some good friends. Somehow, the talk turned to our daughter's early years. She's only five, but 'the early years' seem like a lifetime ago.

Our first day with sweet Ellie began like all the others on our trip -- with tears. In international adoption, one thing you hope for and dread, all at the same time, is the tears. The tears come when the little one grieves what's behind and is confused by the new experience of life with family. Ellie cried when I first took her in my arms, but she quickly fell asleep.

That evening, in our hotel room, she smiled. She went to bed and fell promptly asleep and slept through the night. At breakfast the next morning, she was wide awake, content to sit in her high chair. We watched as the other families traveling with us stumbled into the restaurant, bleary eyed after a long night of tears from their little one. Some commented on how blessed we were. Others asked our secret. But our hearts broke. Our daughter didn't grieve.

That first year, Ellie amazed us in many ways, yet we worried. What others saw as endearing, we saw as signs of trouble. Sadly, we were right. One of the biggest issues was Ellie's struggle to eat. After 4:30 p.m., she simply couldn't. She'd cry, so hungry. I'd prepare her bottle, but she just couldn't take it. We both ended up in tears. Daily. And I put her to bed each night, exhausted and hungry. It was awful.

There were lots of other little signals too. Finally, someone saw what we did and understood our fears. We got help, speech therapy  to stimulate her oral senses and occupational therapy to help her absorb environmental information without completely shutting down. It wasn't easy -- she resisted "waking up." Those sensations would overwhelm her.

Now, Ellie does great. Occasionally, she gets really tired and falls apart a little bit. But we know to prepare her for new experiences long before they happen, particularly travel and new schools or teachers.

As we shared our journey with our friends this Easter, God whispered, "See. I answered your prayers for a healthy daughter." Exactly as we prayed through our adoption process, God provided. He didn't give us a healthy daughter that first day. He gave us a broken little girl. He gave our broken little girl two relentless parents with a great church family filled with prayer warriors. As I finish this post, sweet Ellie stands on a stool in the kitchen, pulling a cereal bowl out of the cupboard. She's preparing her own breakfast, no help required.

We've come a long way in five years!

To remind us of God's healing in our daughter's life -- and our answered prayers for a healthy daughter -- I am placing her therapy brush in our Memorial Box. Thank you, God, for answering our prayers, not in our time, but in yours. We look forward to discovering your plans for our sweet daughter.

Memorial Box Monday started at "A Place Called Simplicity." A friend of mine introduced me to it, and I love it! love it! love it!!! Memorial Box Monday provides an opportunity to remember all the good things God has done. Huge, gigantic things and little things that might seem insignificant. God's word is clear: "Cast every care on Me, for I care for you." (1 Peter 5:7).

Memorial Box Monday: Gotcha!

I knew long before today what I'd write about. Five years ago yesterday, we held our little girl in our arms for the very first time. 

From the moment God called us to adopt, our entire family was consumed with the effort. To raise money, our sons walked dogs, washed cars and pulled weeds for the neighbors. God blessed Rob with a temporary second job - that came to him. He didn't have to look for it. We ate a LOT of peanut butter sandwiches!

Finally, it came. We flew from Beijing to Guangzhou the morning of March 28, 2005. At the hotel, we were herded into a conference room awaiting room assignments. I pulled out my camera to snap a photo of the guys goofing off and my camera wouldn't work. Can you imagine?

Hours away from meeting our daughter, probably the most anticipated day of my life, the shutter wouldn't open. After some panic, yes - I freaked out a bit, Rob and I finally remembered to pray for it. We didn't pray so much as we begged. "God, please... let us get pictures today. Please."

We got our rooms and headed upstairs to freshen up for the big event. It wasn't all that refreshing. We had to gather all the required documents and force down a snack. It's not easy to eat when your stomach is doing flip-flops. I insisted on a final photo of us as a family of four... if the camera would let us. I situated the guys on the couch, set up the camera, sucked in my breath and pushed the on button. Voila! The shutter slid open and we got the shot.

We hurried downstairs to the bus for the drive across town to our little girl. They herded us into the dreary office building, up a couple flights of stairs, and down a hall. We passed Chinese women holding little bundles of love in their arms. Had I just passed her in the hall? My mind filled with thoughts of the moment. Meeting her. Would I recognize her when they carried her in? Would she cry? Was she big? or little? Cuddly?

Then we waited. And waited. And waited. (We really didn't wait too long. It just felt that way.) The dads arranged to videotape for each other so we could catch every precious moment. And then....

The babies arrived.

Thankfully, Ellie was one of the first couple babies they brought in. I did recognize her immediately. She cried. So did I. So did the guys. She was little. Tiny, in fact, and oh so sweet.

We have photos of it all. Thank you, God, for answering our prayer about the camera... With thankfulness, I place a copy of the first photo ever snapped with Ellie into our Memorial Box. The tears came just seconds later... and flowed for quite a while.

Memorial Box Monday started at "A Place Called Simplicity." A friend of mine introduced me to it, and I love it! love it! love it!!! Memorial Box Monday provides an opportunity to remember all the good things God has done. Huge, gigantic things and little things that might seem insignificant. God's word is clear: "Cast every care on Me, for I care for you." (1 Peter 5:7).

Memorial Box Monday: Amazing Race

Memorial Box Monday started at "A Place Called Simplicity." A friend of mine introduced me to it last week, and I love it! love it! love it!!! Memorial Box Monday provides an opportunity to remember all the good things God has done. Huge, gigantic things and little things that might seem insignificant. God's word is clear: "Cast every care on Me, for I care for you." (1 Peter 5:7).

Five years ago, on our China trip to bring our little girl home, we hit a snag quite early in the trip. We flew from Raleigh, NC to Minneapolis to Tokyo and then to Shanghai, China. Everything to that point went so well. After spending a short night in Shanghai, we headed back to the airport for our trip to Beijing, where we'd spend three days touring the city before the final leg of our trip and our daughter.

Shanghai's airport, if you've never been, is essentially a gigantic warehouse. HUGE! Bigger than any airport I had ever seen. There were so many ticket counters, we were just overwhelmed. Thankfully, we traveled with a guide. All we had to do was follow her and board the plane.

Nope!

Our family stepped up to the counter, presenting our paperwork so the agent could print our tickets. Rob's ticket printed. Nathan's ticket printed. Ben and I were denied. What???

I wish I could say I suddenly broke into fluent Mandarin and straightened the whole thing out, but no.... This is a God story, not a Karen story. Karen suddenly felt panicked, scared, frustrated, overwhelmed. Our guide was much the same.

She finally decided to take the rest of our group, 23 families in all, to the plane, instructing me to remain in the lobby with Ben. I watched, a bit terrified, as my husband and older son disappeared around the corner headed to our plane. Instantly - though an instant too late - I realized Rob had our passports, my driver's license, and all but $50 U.S. in the travel bag. The enormity of the problem hit me square between the eyes.

Then it got worse. Our older son is the adventurer. He can turn any lemon, even a moldy one, into delicious lemonade. The more thrilling the journey, the better. Ben, sweet son number two, prefers order, calm, and process. I looked into his enormous blue eyes, swimming with fear. I could have fallen in.

My mama instinct kicked in. I dropped to my knees and grabbed both his hands in mine. Looking steadily into his eyes, I said, "Now we pray." I thanked God for getting us safely to China. I praised him for his faithfulness in all things. And I laid our very specific, time-sensitive need at his feet. Amen.

Standing, I took Ben firmly by the hand, leading him back to the ticket counter. As we approached, a woman stepped out of line and approached the counter. She spoke, words I couldn't understand, with emotion and feeling. She pounded the counter. She pointed at the agent and then pointed at me. The ticket agent looked down and she walked away.

Arriving at the counter, the ticket agent pulled two tickets out of the machine. He handed them to me and in broken English, said, "Run."

Grabbing Ben's tiny hand with a death grip, we ran. And ran. And ran. Toward the very last gate in the terminal. Beyond our flight time, we ran. At one point, he stalled. "I can't run anymore. It hurts." Inspired, I exclaimed, "Ben, this is our Amazing Race. We are not going to miss our plane. Now -- let's -- run!"

At the gate, I handed over the tickets. We were escorted to the waiting (I hoped) plane. As we boarded, the passengers, friends and strangers both, erupted in cheers. I erupted in tears. Ben and I collapsed into our giant, leather seats in first class. Cool, huh?

It's been years since that trip. Our family remembers God's faithfulness that day. From ticketless to first class, because some stranger stepped out of line the moment we prayed. God is good!

Into our memorial box, which for now is a simple shoe box, I place a tiny, plastic airplane to remind myself that when I feel small and forgotten, God is just as big as he has always been and will take care of me.

Little Lovely is HOME!!!

February 10, 2010. The day that Lovely finally came home.

She has a mommy and a daddy.

She has a warm bed.

She has a solid roof over her head.

She is loved.

Thank You, God, for answered prayer.

Haitian Orphans - an update

While the nation of Haiti is in turmoil, there are amazing things happening!

Kindy, now Elijah, is home from Haiti. He has a forever family, a warm bed, a mommy and daddy to love him. Rejoicing that his paperwork was completed so quickly.

Lovely still waits. She was supposed to come home today, but there are delays. Her family has been a tremendous voice for her and all the orphans in Haiti. Please pray for Lovely and all the other kids waiting to come home to their forever families.

I honestly don't understand how the Haitian adoption process works. News reports share stories of kids who came "home" quickly, yet others wait. But I do know that God works things out. His Word promises "that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, and who have been called according to his purpose." (Rom 8:28)

Praying today for the orphans of Haiti:

• That Lovely, and other kids with forever families, will be home soon.
• That the new orphans, those children who lost their parents in the earthquake, will be discovered and will receive love, care and support from the volunteers and other workers in Haiti right now.
• That God will provide permanent families for these kids.
• That families who separated in the chaos and confusion following the earthquake will be reunited.

Amen