Somehow or other, He came just the same

Merry Christmas to all!  Christmas Eve brings the end of Advent, which means "to come" or "to wait."  I've appreciated that word in new ways this December, as we continue to wait for Kavya's passport.

I thought I might be kind of a wreck today -- when we received Kavya's referral in August of 2012, we never dreamed she would still be in India at this point.  But I am unexpectedly okay, and even celebratory.  I think there are a few reasons for that.

First, in the midst of our wait, I feel surrounded like never before by people who find themselves in heartbreaking circumstances.  Parents watching their child slip further away into addiction, a husband watching as his wife enters the final months of her journey with cancer, a friend whose parents are both hospitalized and undergoing surgeries this week, a relative battling crippling depression.  I am hyper-aware of people dealing with far more difficult things than waiting for their child's passport.

Second, I have been so loved and prayed for by so many people.  Our friends, other adoptive mamas, our church, our families -- so many people are lifting Peter and me up in prayer.

And third, this unexpectedly long and difficult wait reminds me of the place and world that Christ entered.  No one was expecting him -- the Jewish people had endured a few centuries when no prophets were speaking.  His timing, at least for the unmarried Mary and Joseph, was pretty inconvenient (and downright scandalous).  He arrived in a chaotic, overcrowded city that was occupied by foreign oppressors.  Difficult circumstances, no doubt -- circumstances people endured with no end in sight.

Yet, to paraphrase Dr. Seuss, somehow or other, He came just the same!  No matter what is happening on our noisy, messy planet, or in our noisy, messy lives, He came to dwell among us -- the Word made flesh, the fulfillment of many promises, God with us.  He really came here, and invites each of us to follow Him from the manger to the cross, to believe in the forgiveness, peace, and eternal life that is His alone to offer.

That's the main reason I am doing just fine -- no, the reason I'm joyful this Christmas.  Even while missing my daughter (and wondering with the nuns do to celebrate Christmas with the children?), Christ is reason enough to have joy.

Merry Christmas!

Thanksgiving and other thoughts

This weekend we celebrated Thanksgiving with our families. Actually, we took advantage of the fact that the beginning of Hannukah and Thanksgiving fell on the same day -- the first time that's happened since the 1880s (and it won't happen again for hundreds of years).  So instead of turkey and stuffing, we ate brisket and beets and the kids played with dreidels.  I still made pumpkin and apple pies though -- gotta have those!

I've been trying to remain thankful during this season of waiting.  And actually, our delayed travel has brought a few benefits.  My back has had time to heal (I lifted weights today for the first time since September), and I've been able to help Peter's mom after her knee surgery, which I wouldn't have been able to do with a newly-arrived 2-year-old.  And we will be able to attend our sons' boychoir concert this weekend too, which we didn't want to miss, since it may be Aaron's last one (due to his voice changing).

But I've also been trying to allow myself to feel sad.  Some days are just hard, as we wait and wonder when we will hear about Kavya's passport. We are definitely having the sensation of missing someone we've never met.  And I am also grieving for the millions of other children living in orphanages in India.  About 8,000 of them will go home to families this year, and they all rely on the same maddeningly unpredictable process to get there.

The dates and timelines keep swirling around in my brain, too.  We began Kavya's adoption when Anya was 2, received the referral when Anya was 5, and now Anya's birthday is two weeks away . . . so Kavya won't be home until Anya is 7.  And it is so frustrating to know that we have legally been Kavya's parents since July 31, when the judge signed our adoption paperwork in court -- and she's still not home with us.

I'm trying to follow the model of the Psalmists, and be honest about every thought and emotion.  I bring it all to my Father, good, bad, and ugly.  And then after being brutally honest about my sadness, anger and frustration, I meander my way back to what I know is true:  He is still good, and He is the only trustworthy thing in this world.

He sees every child that is hungry, lonely, ill, or without a family.  He loves them and weeps over them more than I do. He is still good in the face of inefficiency, injustice, pain, and sadness.  He loves Kavya more than I will ever be able to.

I'd be lying if I said that takes away the sadness and frustration entirely.  But it does give me comfort to focus on something true and good.  And during these last, long weeks of waiting, that is what I need.

I got the 'no passport' blues

If I were more musically inclined, I'd be sitting at the piano writing the song I've been singing for the past week: "The No Passport Blues."

Here's what we know: our RIPA director e-mailed to say that she would be applying for the passport during the week of Sept. 4.

During the last week of October, she said she was going to visit the passport office; the following week, she e-mailed to say that they didn't have a copy of the passport to give her.  So we are wondering now if the passport office lost her application, or what . . . or if that particular office just runs on its own schedule.

During our wait for Anya, we received her passport on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, which is also the anniversary of the day Peter and I were engaged.  We're praying that maybe it will come that same day for Kavya . . .

It would be kind of amazing to be back in India at the same time we traveled for our first daughter.  (Which was Dec. 6-16)

But we would be happy if it came before then.

Meanwhile, my mama/planner brain is thinking things like: when should we decorate our Christmas tree?? Will we be here for Aaron's and Nathan's boychoir Christmas concert?  Will we still be here for St. Nicholas' Day (Dec. 6 for the non-Dutch/German readers)?  So many questions -- and all the kids have a big one too:  "Will you be gone Christmas Eve and Christmas Day?"  I hope it doesn't take that long!

And I did dig out Kavya's stocking so I can bring it to an embroidery shop -- we've been hanging a blank fourth stocking for the past four years.  Last year, it felt too soon to have her name put on her stocking.  Even though we received her referral at the end of August last year, there were still so many hoops to jump through with approvals and court dates.

The most difficult thing to handle is my frustration that Kavya has been living an extra, unnecessary two months in an institution.  I long to be there when she is sick, when she's afraid, when she learns something new, when she just wants someone's undivided attention.  And my heart breaks for all of the children who are waiting months and years for this slow process that is their only hope for a permanent family.

But we are praying and hoping that this is her year!  Despite the unpredictable (but predictably longer than promised) wait . . . that name is going on her stocking!  She belongs here, with her name right beside her brothers' and sister's on our mantel.

Waiting: week 7

For those of you who are keeping track, we are in week 7 of our 3-9 week wait for Kavya's passport.  We received e-mails from Sister, the director of Kavya's orphanage, last week and this week.  She told us that she visited the passport office but that they didn't give her any dates.

We hope that her visit jogged someone's memory in the passport office, and may help our daughter's passport rise to the top of the heap.  With Diwali closures, we aren't even sure which government offices were open this week.  Please join us in praying that we hear news soon -- if it follows the official timeline, we only have 2 weeks left in our wait!

Thank you for following our family's journey to Kavya, and for praying and cheering us on all the way.  You have been my link to sanity so many times, and my reminder that God has been watching over our daughter and walking beside us while we wait.

The "four timers" club

As of tomorrow, we will join that elite group in the adoption world known as the "Four Timers Club."   If you haven't heard of it, it's because we are a small, exclusive group -- and we sincerely hope you will never have to join us!

Tomorrow we will drive two hours each way to renew our fingerprints for the fourth time.  Sarah's family and Karen's family have gone before us, so we are in good company . . . It has been a privilege to take this journey with them, but I wish none of us had to be part of this particular club.

We did receive an e-mail from our orphanage today containing our court documents, and it included a beautiful new (to us) photo of Kavya! But no passport news yet.  It gave me goosebumps to read the official statements that we are her parents -- that will tide me over for now.

No passport, but good news from Show Hope!

I wish I could tell you that Kavya's passport is done (not yet!!) . . . but we are smiling today about something completely different!  We received some great news today. 

Waaaaaaaay back in 2010, the adoption grant organization Show Hope told us that they had chosen our family to receive a grant toward Kavya's adoption.  And today, they communicated with our adoption agency, Dillon International, to say that it's time to send the grant award!

What a thrill to be reminded that God was providing for this final part of the adoption over three years ago -- and how grateful we are to each person who made our grant possible by donating to Show Hope. 

We will have many travel expenses, and many post-adoption expenses such as required visits from our social worker.  It is such a gift to have this grant to help cover that!

Thank you, Show Hope!

Interview with an adult Ind*an adoptee

Last week, I had the privilege of sharing a long conversation with Esther.  She is a stunning, smart, articulate 25-year-old woman, who is passionate about living for Christ.  She also shares something in common with our daughters -- she began her life in India, and was adopted by a family in the United States.

Esther is the niece of a friend, and we first chatted last summer at a wedding.  She graciously agreed to be part of a longer conversation with me about her experiences growing up as a girl of color in a predominately caucasian environment, and her thoughts and feelings about being adopted.  She also agreed to invite all of you into the conversation. Thank you so much, Esther!

A little bit of Esther's history . . .
Esther's life began like many of our children's stories:  she was born to a young, unmarried woman who was unable to care for her.  Her birth mother made sure she was safely brought to an orphanage.  One other really amazing thing she knows about her history is that Mother Theresa visited that orphanage when Esther was a baby, and prayed over her and the other babies.

When she was four months old, Esther was united with her adoptive family and came home with them to the Midwest.  She has one brother who is her parents' biological child, and another brother who was also adopted from India.  She grew up in a very small town, and then moved to a medium-sized city when she started high school.

Her experiences with racism . . .
As a young child, Esther lived in a small town and attended a small private school that was nearly all-caucasian.  She and her brother were teased and bullied because they had brown skin -- Esther thinks it wasn't actually about any racial stereotypes about Indian people in particular, but simply because kids singled them out because of their skin color.  It was very painful for them, and she felt that the school didn't take the problem seriously.  When Esther started high school, her family did move to a larger, more diverse city.  She said it was completely different, and she didn't experience teasing or bullying during high school.

Esther's encouragement for us is to take seriously what our kids tell us, and be assertive with our kids' teachers, school principals, and guidance counselors.  We need to be prepared to insist on a response from our school if/when our kids encounter racism or bullying.  She also said that parents need to strongly consider their environment when adopting transracially -- if we live in small, predominately white towns, we should seriously consider moving to a more diverse town or city. 

She also mentioned that her brother, who was also adopted from India, has been on the receiving end of some racial profiling at the airport.  He is always subjected to the full-body, invasive searches at airports because of his appearance.  And he encounters further scrutiny because he is diabetic and uses an insulin pump.

On traveling to India this year . . .
Esther was part of a mission experience called the World Race.  (It's an 11-month trek around the world serving others, and experiencing what it means to share the Gospel in different settings.)  She spent time serving in India, part of which was spent working in an orphanage.  Returning to India sparked many questions and thoughts for her -- about children who grow up alone or in poverty, about her own journey as an adoptee, and about her birth mother.  She feels she is just beginning to process everything, and highly recommends finding opportunities for our children to visit their birth country.

Her thoughts about being adopted . . .
Esther's family didn't talk a lot about adoption, or do things to connect to her birth culture (such as Indian cooking, clothing or heritage experiences or camps).  She wishes now that more of those elements had been present, especially simply talking about adoption.  As a young girl, she didn't realize her family was different than other families, which was healthy in some ways.  She said with a smile that she just thought "the first kid comes out with pale skin, then you have brown ones."  In elementary school, someone called her "adopted," and it was the first time she really put the pieces together that she had been born to someone else, then brought into her family.

She recommends talking often with our kids about their stories, and being frank and open about what it means to be adopted.  She also mentioned that she and her brother often perceived things differently, and she recommends praying and being thoughtful about what each individual child needs.  Esther emphasized that kids understand things differently at different ages -- so it's really important to listen to how your children phrase things, so you can discern what they're thinking.

As an adult, she deeply appreciates the chance she had to grow up in a family, to be introduced to Christ, and to escape the poverty or exploitation that may have been her future with no family.  She wonders if she has biological siblings or other family in India, and hopes to find answers about that someday.

The "missing piece" . . .
She talked about a sense of something lacking that has been with her as long as she can remember.  Her parents divorced when she was 9, and she and her brother lived with her dad after that.  She has sometimes felt a sense of detachment with her family, and wonders if that is the result of their particular family dynamics, or if it's about being adopted.  She said that question stays with her -- "is this an adoption thing, or just how our particular family is?"  And there are no solid answers in the end, which feels unsatisfying.

She talked about being generally happy about her family and her life, but still having that lingering feeling of a "missing piece." She thinks it's important for parents to know that about their adopted children -- that sometimes there will be a feeling of incompleteness, and it's not a judgement on us as parents.

She encouraged us to build families and homes where it's safe and okay to express feelings like loneliness, anger, and sadness.  Our kids need to know it's okay to feel ambivalent about their history, and that it's okay to experience conflicting emotions:  loving your adoptive family, but wondering about all of the might-have-beens had she been able to stay with her birth family.

Other encouragements for adoptive parents . . .
Esther said that words of encouragement and belonging are important for every child, but may be even more vital for adopted children.  She encouraged us to speak words of affirmation and life to our children.  For her at times, and for many adopted children, are lingering questions:  why was I abandoned?  Was there something wrong with me?  She recognized that this question happened at times when she was vulnerable in some way, and believes that it was part of a spiritual attack on her.  As a result, she also encouraged us to pray consistently for our children not to believe those lies when they pop up.

What's next for Esther?
The next destination for Esther is Spain!  She is working and fundraising for 6 months of education about missions work, specifically using film/documentary filmmaking as a medium to advance the Gospel.  She has earned a B.A. in film production already, so this is continuing education about applying that knowledge.  She will be with the G42 organization, which is based in Houston, Texas.

If you'd like to thank her for sharing honestly with us parents about her thoughts and feelings, please consider making a donation toward her time in Spain.  (That was my idea, not hers -- but I hope we can surprise her!)  If you'd like to help her, private message me on F*cebook, or use the e-mail address to contact me (it appears if you click to leave a comment).