These few featured families are all families whose buttons for fundraising are featured on our site. Please read about them and consider supporting their efforts as they pursue God’s call for their families.
We are Mark and Anita Hiehle. We
I always know when Steve is home…no matter where I am, Aiden comes yelling though the house “Mom, Dad’s Home!!!”
Many times, I just say “Yes, baby, Daddy is home.” Usually, Steve has brought home groceries of some sort, and 3 year old Aiden loves to help bring in the bags…still yelling to anyone who missed the 1st announcement that daddy was home.
However, occasionally, when I hear him yell this happy news, like today,…
my own emotions get the best of me. The “mommy” in me feels sad for those years that he didn’t have a daddy (or any family). It is difficult to explain. I guess the best way to explain it is a mourning for what my child missed those first months or years of their lives. Yes, of course, I am happy for what they have now, a home, a family.
However, they are MY children. And, just like I would feel for my birth children, I feel a sadness, and a thankfulness, for what they have come through. Sometimes, I find myself saying to my newest little son, as he snuggles into my chest to rest and receive love, “It’s nice to have a mommy, isn’t it?” I’m not thinking how wonderful I am or anything, I am feeling emotions of gratefulness that he has a mommy to snuggle him, because I love him so much and for 7 months he didn’t have a mommy. When Kiana first came home from China, my parents came right away to meet their newest granddaughter. As I watched them loving on her, I had some of those same feelings. “She now has a Dandy and Gommy…a few days ago, she had no one!” My birth children always had all of these blessings and people that loved them, but my children home through adoption did not. Their stories started before we brought them home. And, often those stories included loneliness, hunger, and fear.
Of course we, as mothers, should and we do help our children heal from those early pains, but I guess I am realizing that we as the mothers should also realize and help our mother’s hearts heal because we love them, and WE HURT also for what they have come through.
So, when my little man yells with all the happiness that his 3-year-old body can hold that daddy is home, and I feel that familiar sadness and thankfulness, mourning and joy…I am going to look into his eyes and say “Yes, baby, Your daddy is home.”
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Steve and Shonni love living in beautiful Colorado, where they enjoy a busy and fun life with their family. Parents to 11 children, some of their passions are the Bible, family, photography, orphan ministry, home education, and herbs. You can read more about their family and their daily life–and their journey to adopting a little boy from China–on their personal blog.
Miss A has been with us for about 4 months now. As time goes on, as I watch her playing and interacting, I find myself wondering, did they ever notice?
I mean, she spent 7.5 months in an orphanage being cared for by nannies. It was, as far as I can tell, a really good orphanage. We visited it and got a tour, and it was lovely–for an orphanage. It was clean and bright, and the directors and nannies were cheerful and welcoming and friendly. But, it was still an orphanage. She was still cared for by nannies. And that makes me wonder, did they ever notice?
Miss A likes to feel a blanket or burp cloth with her fingers as she drinks her bottle. Propped up in the crook of my leg so we can see each other face to face, her hands are in constant motion. Seeking out and then rubbing and feeling the piece of cloth. Did they ever notice this?
As her eyelids get droopier and droopier drinking her bottle, she will usually begin lifting the cloth to her face. Covering her eyes, then dropping it down, then bring it back up to her face. She will grab a corner and rub the side of her face as her eyelids close. Did they ever notice?
Should she finish the bottle before drifting off to sleep, she has been known to almost nibble on the fuzzy side of her blankie to fall asleep. Did they ever notice? And, if so, did they ever give her a soft cloth to feel as she drank her bottle?
We first noticed this in China. She would hold her shirt or my shirt as she drank her bottle. Then she would grab her bib or burpcloth. So, when we came home, I got out a blankie square with a silky side and a furry side. She loves it. Peeking in at her at night we will find her laying on it like a pillow. And, it sometimes makes me sad. Sad because I wonder what she did at night when she was (presumably) all alone in her bed with nothing to grasp or cuddle or snuggle.
In all likelihood, given what I know about orphanages, given that the nannies (caring though they be) are taking care of many children at a time, I know that they probably didn’t notice this quirk of Miss A. They didn’t have time to notice. They couldn’t notice.
Instead they had to focus on taking care of each child’s basic needs. Feeding, changing diapers, and sleeping. Straight forward caretaking. Judging from Miss A, they seem to have done a fantastic job of caring for her basic needs while in the orphanage. On Gotcha Day she was a well-fed, healthy, happy, clean, chubby cleft baby who had already been given her first surgery. Her basic needs were well met.
But, just getting your basic needs met isn’t what we were designed for. God created us to know Him and to be intimately known. And He sets the example for us–He knows His children intimately. He knows how many hairs we have on our head. He knows our deepest fears and struggles. He knows our gifts and talents. He knows what makes us laugh. He knows how we laugh. He knows our heart and soul and mind and spirit, for He created us. He notices it all.
There is so much more to be had than to just have your basic needs met. So, God places children in families with parents who, if they are intent on doing it, will know those children intimately. Through relationships and time and noticing we get to know one another intimately. Think of your closest friends, your spouses, your family. What makes those relationships so valuable is that each of those people knows you intimately. They can “read you like a book.” They know your quirks and your looks and your fears and your joys. And, isn’t that a comfort–to be known intimately?
This is what has brought me so much joy from being a mother. To spend every day with my daughters has given me the opportunity to know my girls intimately. Knowing that Miss E will probably need extra reassurance when she hears a loud car go roaring down our street. Knowing that Miss A likes to crawl around with a block in each hand. Noticing and knowing the little things, the looks, the cries, the giggles, the quirks. I love knowing–really knowing–my girls.
So, as I watch Miss A, as I study her expressions and movements and quirks, it makes me sad to realize that they probably couldn’t notice them. She had great basic care for the first 7.5 months of her life. And, for that, I am forever grateful. But, she didn’t have the care of a Mommy and Daddy. She didn’t have someone who took notice of how much she liked soft blankies and, in turn, made them available to her. She didn’t have someone who knew her intimately.
Now, she does.
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Stephanie has been married to Matthew for over 5 years. She
Noah.
Assignment: Construct an Ark, endure ridicule and mocking for 100+ years, live in a boat with animals, survive the flood {the first and last of its kind}.
Moses.
Assignment: Lead a people who will ultimately grumble/complain, worship idols, murder, sacrifice their children to the fire, become harlots, and despise your leadership.
David.
Assignment: Become king–but first, endure threats on your life, hide in caves, play instruments for a delusional man, witness the death of your best friend.
Jeremiah.
Assignment: As a prophet, speak the word of God to a people living in sin and rebelliousness, threats on your life, anguish and grief.
Elijah.
Assignment: A prophet who will make his home by a brook, trust in a bird to bring him food, live through a drought, call fire from heaven, raise the dead, flee a wicked woman, and witness a fire consume 50 men.
Ezekiel.
Assignment: A prophet and priest who will speak destruction, condemnation and judgement, witness death and the loss of your wife.
John the Baptist.
Assignment: Preacher of repentance. Roamed the desert, wore camels hair, ate honey and locust.
Paul.
Assignment: Preacher of the good news. Promised he would suffer many things for the sake of the gospel, shipwrecked, imprisoned, sick, destitute {among many other hardships}.
And what more shall I say? For time would tell of Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jepthah and Samuel and the prophets–who through faith conquered kingdoms, obtained promises, escaped the edge of the sword, were made strong out of weakness, became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight. Woman received back their dead by resurrection. Some were tortured, refusing to accept release, so they might rise again to a better life. Others suffered mocking and flogging, and even chains and imprisonment. They were stoned, they were sawn in two, they were killed with the sword. They went about in skins of sheep and goats, destitute, afflicted, mistreated. . . .
These few featured families are all families whose buttons for fundraising are featured on our site. Please read about them and consider supporting their efforts as they pursue God’s call for their families.
We are Robert and Robin. We have been blessed with a biological son Nick (13) and three beautiful daughters, Mikayla (15) , Lauren (5) , & Mia Hope (4). Our girls were adopted from China. We are currently on a journey of love to bring home Liliana (4), our
I have debated long and hard about whether to write about this or not, but I have decided to for three important reasons:
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The joy of being matched lasted about 24 hours for me.
Wait.
I’m not sure I felt joy at all that day we called to tell our agency that we were sending in our LOI (Letter of Intent to Adopt).
In fact, my matter-of-factness, my taking-care-of-the-business of it, never actually yielded any emotions. However, after hanging up the phone, the fear began to build up, growing more and more as the hours ticked by. By Thursday night (the day after accepting our referral), once I had the kids in bed and the house was quiet (Scot was away the week we accepted our referral), I began to feel panic almost physically strangling me.
Scot called that evening to say good-night to the kids and to let me know that he really couldn’t talk to me that night because everyone was going out. I told him I needed to talk to him and that it really could not wait until morning. Who knows what else I said, but after the kids were in bed, Scot called back (having excused himself from the events of the evening), and I fell apart on the phone with him.
Fell. Apart.
Every fear, doubt, anxiety, worry, every bit of it came pouring out. And, that’s not like me. In this whole adoption process, if I’ve gotten really freaked out at any point, I tried to temper it with Scot fearing I’d freak him out too much. But, I figured it was now or never to let it all out. Not about adoption in general, but about the boy we just accepted in particular. I’m not sure how he even understood what I was saying over the phone because I was so emotional.
I covered it all. Every “what if.” And, that was no small task, because at that point, there were for me, still many, many unanswered questions.
I told Scot point blank that I thought we may have made a mistake, and that IF that’s what we ultimately decided, HE would need to call our agency, because I simply would not be able to. (Scot’s never called our agency. I handle all that.)
Scot patiently listened to it all, told me that if we felt like we needed to change our minds that he would “absolutely” call the agency for me but that he thought I should let him get home the next day before we made any decisions. We both knew that it was nearly Friday in China anyway, so we should take the weekend to talk and pray. He felt sure that once he was home we would figure it out.
After that conversation, I felt better. Mostly, because I got it all out. There was no question about where I was at. I was terrified.
During these couple days, I told no one about our referral (besides one dear friend who already knew about it and our pastor). I couldn’t look at the child’s picture. In fact, I had called my mother-in-law on Wednesday after accepting the referral and got her voice mail. When she called me back on Thursday, I pretended I had forgotten why I had called.
I couldn’t bring myself to tell her. THAT’s how bad it was.
(I remember it so well that I’m crying just typing this. It was awful to feel that way.)
After my conversation with Scot, I went to New Day Foster Home‘s website (where the child was being cared for) and looked at every. single. picture. they had of him. I looked hoping I would recognize him. Because looking back, I think that is what bothered me the most.
I didn’t recognize him.
I had thought when I saw the face of my child I would know him (or her). That there would be some magic or something. Or that it would be a very spiritual moment. Or, you know, anything but a series of very intentional decisions. Which is what it was.
I didn’t get a phone call out of the blue and click open the e-mail to see my child’s face for the first time. Because that’s how you think of it in all those years of waiting. And, just like when I struggled after having Sawyer via c-section (the LAST thing I expected and certainly was never part of my becoming-a-mom fantasies), I realize now that I was struggling again with reality verses how I imagined it would be.
Then there were the very REAL questions on top of that:
On Friday, Scot came home, and I’m not sure I had ever, EVER been so glad to have him back from a trip EVER. And honestly, we only casually talked about the boy we had accepted that night and even through Saturday. I actually don’t remember much about those two days.
I know we prayed about it, but I don’t remember much else.
On Sunday morning, I was on my way to church by myself. I have to be there early, so I always go by myself, and Scot comes during the second service with the kids. In the car, I prayed very specifically, and I remember exactly what I said: “God, I need to hear from you today, and I’m in a very emotional state. Anything less than complete clarity will only confuse me. Can you please be crystal clear with me this morning?”
Nothing fluffy or ornate. Just a simple honest prayer.
But, as soon as I uttered it, I wondered how it would ever be clear enough for me in the state I was in. I remember distinctly thinking, “Unless I hear ‘You should adopt him’ or ‘You shouldn’t adopt him’, will I really walk away feeling sure?” Any amount of faith I had seemed gone in those moments.
Usually, I go to church during first service, and Scot attends second service. Unfortunately, that’s just how it is because second service for us is very busy, and I have to be back in children’s ministry that hour. However, on this particular day, Scot showed up early and went to church with me.
Our pastor wasn’t teaching that morning, and one of the people Scot and I respect most in the world was speaking. This man has been a missionary around the world and is a walking example of what a life looks like when lived trusting God to the fullest!
This morning, he was speaking about Noah. He talked about a lot of things, but he specifically talked about how the call that God made on Noah’s life could not have made a whole lot of sense to Noah. Noah had never seen rain. And, the Bible doesn’t say that Noah had any skill at building. Noah, the speaker said, probably felt completely inadequate for the task. The task HAD to have seemed too big for him, too hard, too unknown, too scary. I mean, God told Noah he was going to destroy everything on the earth. That had to have been unsettling at the very least! Everything in Noah’s world must have felt turned up-side down, but because He walked with and trusted God, he did it.
Then, right there in the middle of the sermon, with his British accent in full tilt, the speaker says: “So…what is God asking you to do today? *there might as well have been a l-o-n-g pause here, because I remember it as if time stood still* Does it seem hard, scary, unknown? I don’t know what God has called you to today, but I am here to tell you JUST DO IT!” (That was all caps on purpose because he yelled it. The man is 80 years old, and he yelled it!)
Could God have been ANY clearer? At all? Really?
JUST DO IT!
And, the choice of words? Echoed the EXACT words my friend had said to me when I told her we accepted our referral. She said, while she talked to me on the phone that night, she just wanted to yell, “JUST DO IT!”
Tears immediately started rolling down my face, and I leaned over to Scot and said, “I think we have our answer.”
He just smiled, and was gracious enough NOT to say, “No, I had my answer all along. It seems that now you have YOUR answer!”
That’s in my mind when New Day’s Evan became Cooper. When all my doubts and fears took a distant back seat to the fact that this was oh-so-clearly the child GOD had chosen for our family.
I will always, always be so thankful that God cared enough about me to speak to me right where I was at that morning. To assure me when I was doubting. To answer my very specific prayer and to do it in such a resounding way.
That next week, after we got PA, we requested an update on Cooper. Specifically, we asked for updated lab results so that we could see what his Hep B status was. The woman at our agency said she would ask but that updated medical info is not generally given and so we shouldn’t expect it.
A few days later, we got a short update, and some pictures. The update did not contain any updated lab work. We were disappointed but okay with whatever. However, when we looked through the pictures, the last picture was a jpeg file of Cooper’s most updated lab results where we could see VERY clearly that the ambiguous test results were gone, and he was quite clearly NOT Hep B positive.
I thanked God that day for those lab results, because although I would have trusted Him either way, He knew how scared we were about that, and he took that fear completely away.
How great is our God indeed.
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Jenna is a teacher, turned stay-at-home mom, turned Children’s Ministry Director who is passionate about children. After hearing God’s call to care for orphans 4 years ago, she has become increasingly passionate about adoption and orphan care. She and her high school sweetheart, Scot, have been married for 13 years and are currently IN CHINA to meet and bring home their son Cooper who is 3 years old and seriously adorable (go see for yourself!). They are excited to see what God will do in the next chapter of the story He is writing with their family. Jenna and Scot feel strongly about sharing their story so that they might be of encouragement to others in various stages of the adoption process. You can follow along with them on their trip and afterwards at Our Many Colored Days.
While attending a church service in Zambia, an American visitor, Gary Schneider, was struck by the pastor’s passionate call to care for orphans in the local community, a community dramatically affected by AIDS and poverty. Those in the congregation faced real need themselves, needs we can barely imagine. But, as the service ended, one after another stepped forward with money, food, and material things, some even taking off their own shoes and placing them in the offering as a response to the pastor’s call for the orphans.
Gary Schneider, President of Every Orphan’s Hope, was so impacted that he began to help Zambian leaders coordinate Orphan Sunday efforts across Zambia which spread to the United States in 2003.
It stands as a day specifically set apart to bring attention to God’s call for us to stand for the orphan. We are a people called to defend the fatherless, to care for the child who has no family, to visit orphans in their distress. Orphan Sunday is our opportunity as preadoptive families, adoptive families, and those who have hearts for children around the world to rouse the Church, our communities, and friends to God
“Is it hard to love your three girls like your own?” asked an acquaintance last week. I have to admit that a million thoughts ran through my mind in the 10 seconds it took for me to answer her. I thought about the day my first adopted daughter was placed into my arms. When we looked into each others’ eyes, I was looking at a stranger. She did not look like my other children. She smelled, had snot dripping all over the place and dirt in crevices not meant to see dirt. But, they said she was mine.
Then, a year later, I was given Joy with strange behaviors caused by her life in an orphanage. Joy, the one who cried that first week whenever you moved her, the one our whole family thought had lifetime disabilities. But, again, she was mine.
Then came the biggie in 2010, adopting a 7 year old. How can I love this older child who obviously does not want anything to do with me? She screamed and ran when it was time to leave the Civil Affairs office. She tried bolting out the door of the hotel room when the orphanage worker left us. She moaned like a caged animal that first day. How could I love her like my own when she was already 7 years old and molded by other people? When the workers asked if she wanted me to be her mother she did not reply. She did not want to be my daughter, so how could I love her? Again, they told me she was mine.
Then, all the memories came to my mind, and I held them in my heart. There were many tears from both mother and daughters. There was/is so much guidance, correction, encouragement, love, discipline, hugs, kisses, cuddles, just like I give “my own.” So, I replied to the lady, “They are my own and, no, it is not hard to love them like ‘my own.’” Every last one of them.
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Cheri lives in Virginia with her husband, Mike, of 23 years. They have 3 biological children, ages 20, 16, and 11. After struggling with many pregnancy losses, they felt God was calling them to adopt a little girl from China. Upon returning home from their trip in 2006 to adopt Eva, they became more aware of the need of orphans. They traveled to China again in 2007 to adopt Joy. Always having the older children on her heart, but feeling incapable, Cheri felt an older child was in their future for adoption. In February 2010, Cheri traveled alone to Guangdong, China to adopt 7-year-old Ivy. Cheri started blogging to share her travels to China with friends and family but has also enjoyed sharing the ups and downs of adoption and family life.
Some interactions with our kids are simply too priceless not to share. So it was with a recent conversation with one of my boys (whose permission I obtained to share this story with the understanding I would not identify him by name).
I walked into my bedroom, and one of my sons was lying on the bed finishing up a TV show just before bath time.
These few featured families are all families whose buttons for fundraising are featured on our site. Please read about them and consider supporting their efforts as they pursue God’s call for their families.
Our adoption story all started this past year when we were faced with the news that we are unable to have biological children due to medical reasons, but God has laid it on our hearts to pursue adoption as a means of starting our family. Throughout our dating years, we had talked about adoption and how we would love to give a child a wonderful Christian home and family who might not otherwise have one. We have begun the process of domestic infant adoption. Right now, this seems like an overwhelming task that lay before us but we know through prayer, family support, and fellow adoptive families’ support, this will be a journey that we will never forgot and be better for it in the end. We have been encouraged by everyone