The 11th Day of 12 {New Day Foster Home}

I’ll never forget the day that one of our staff called the office. He was out visiting orphanages and monitoring our Formula Project with another colleague, and had just arrived at a newer orphanage we had only recently begun working with. He called because there was a baby who needed help.

This is always how the story begins. There’s a baby who needs our help. And sometimes, sometimes we can’t say “yes” because we don’t have a bed available. Often we have to slowly set down the phone, saying a desperate prayer for the little one that may not make it. The decisions that directors, have to make every sing day can be gut-wrenching and painful. The need is too great, and we are only a small community of Chinese and foreigners working together to save them one at a time.

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In each of the hearts of the staff at New Day Foster Home, there is a deep burden for the orphan. We’ve seen their faces, cradled them in our arms and cried tears of sadness and tears of joy as they’ve been through and overcome trial after trial.

We are doing something very special, and something very big. Here’s the goal: Raise $12,000 in 12 days for New Day’s Acute Care Fund. The Acute Care fund is what’s used when Lydia needs to be admitted into the hospital with pneumonia, for when Ella’s in PICU in respiratory distress and for while Alea was waiting for months in the hospital for a liver transplant. This fund is so critical for an optimum-functioning NDFH, and it’s getting a little bit too low.

Each day, starting on the 31st and ending on the 10th, we have been featuring a child who has benefited from the Acute Care Fund, or will benefit at some point, or just has a pretty amazing story that we want to share with you. We will have giveaways, sponsored by some very special supporters to NDFH, and we will tell the stories of children who’s lives were changed by New Day. We’ve gotten to hear from the adoptive mama of Cora, a little one who’s miracle made us gasp.

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… and later we’re going to hear from the mama of Levi, who was adopted recently and brightened our lives with his fighter’s spirit.

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We’ve had a lot of fun over the last 11 days of our efforts. At the end of the day tomorrow, we hope to announce that we raised even more money than we had thought, money that will help save a lot of lives.

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Want to join in at the last minute here? Head on over to the NDFH blog and see the glory of miracles for yourself!

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Hannah Samuels

When Hannah traveled to China in 2002 with her parents to adopt her sister Elisabeth, she fell in love with the country and people. In 2004, when her other sister Naomi was adopted, she started dreaming of going back. It took 5 years for that dream to come true. She now serves in a foster home for special needs orphans in China. Hannah spends her days studying, writing for the foster home and on her personal blog, Loving Dangerously, and most importantly, holding babies. Hannah loves the adventure of living overseas with her family. It’s not always easy, but it’s always worth it.

All I Know Is I’m Not Home Yet

Below is the lyrics to “Where I Belong” by Building 429…my new mantra…

Sometimes it feels like I”m watching from the outside
Sometimes it feels like I”m breathing but am I alive
I won”t keep searching for answers that aren”t here to find
All I know is I”m not home yet
This is not where I belong
Take this world and give me Jesus
This is not where I belong

So when the walls come falling down on me
And when I”m lost in the current of a raging sea
I have this blessed assurance holding me.
All I know is I”m not home yet
This is not where I belong
Take this world and give me Jesus
This is not where I belong

When the earth shakes I wanna be found in You
When the lights fade I wanna be found in You
All I know is I”m not home yet
This is not where I belong
Take this world and give me Jesus
This is not where I belong

[x2]
Where I belong, where I belong
Where I belong, where I belong

Friends . . . I keep saying international adoption (or just adoption in general) is not for the weak. However, I am beginning to understand that it is actually indeed for the weak . . . those who are so emotionally spent that they almost have nothing left give, those that are so sleep deprived that they can’t remember what their pillow looks like, those that are physically strained and with compromised immune systems, those that wonder why they did this to their family and to the one they adopted, those that are poured out and completely used up. This is what an adoptive parent looks like in the beginning stages. And the only way I can be a parent is to lean on my Father in heaven who adopted me and knows exactly what I  am going through. The only way I can parent well is to be emptied out of myself and filled up with the Spirit that groans on my behalf to the Father. When I reach my end and finally let go of my books, my workshops, my blogs, my yahoo support groups, my professionals, my doctors, my well intentioned family and friends and I just fall on my face before my Savior and Lord . . . then I can truly be the parent God created me to be (even when I doubt that is possible.) Now please understand, I’m not giving up on my books, blogs, yahoo support groups, professionals, doctors, friends and family they are all vital to the success of my family, HOWEVER, I need to be interacting with all these things while looking straight in the face of Jesus. When I take my eyes off him, all these wonderful resources are ineffective at best.

My friends, I have been poured out and spilled all over the floor. Hard days are these indeed. I have one child who has no concepts of parents and family, who is just trying to figure out if she will be given away again and lives in fear and sorrow. I have another who very clearly understands the concepts of parents and family and feels that hers have been hijacked and violently reacts to mundane things in her grief. I have yet another who is so compassionate that he wrongly puts all the needs of everyone above his own as if he were the parent and loses his childhood and so much joy in the process. Hard times. Hard to watch, hard to parent, hard not to condemn myself as being responsible for their pain. I was trying to take credit for their pain recently saying, “I did this to them all. I hurt Eden and Noah by bringing in this new child. I hurt Yaya by taking her away from all she knew. I have wrecked our peaceful wonderful family and injured and innocent bystander in the process. A bystander that didn’t ask to be adopted and ripped from all she knew. . .” You get the idea, and can see how this line of thinking goes now where but bad, really bad. And one night as my sweet Eden raged on and begged me to leave her room and leave her alone, I dragged myself out of her room and into the guest room. I fell on the bed in a choking, sobbing, heap, moaning; “Lord I CAN NOT do this anymore! I can’t do this.” And just like Jesus, he responded, “I know. But I can. And I have been trying to “do this” but you won’t let me. And for the record, I DID THIS, my sweet child. I did all of this, not you. I know what I am doing with precious Eden, courageous Noah and sweet Yaya. And I know what I’m doing with Eric and I know what I’m doing with you. Lay it all down dear one, give it back to me and let me parent through you. It will get better I promise, and my promises are true. Do you not remember them? Yaya’s life verse is one of my better promises…plans to prosper you and not to harm you, give you a future and a hope…”

Deep inhale . . . yes, Jesus. I remember. Deep inhale. Take this world and give me Jesus. And it is better, not perfect but better. And I am not so foolish as to think it won’t get worse or that I am spared from suffering. But I am no longer parenting out of my own power and God has been so faithful to send several people to help us on this journey…friends, family, doctors, therapists, even total strangers. In my weakness I am strong. Adoption is only for the weak who are made strong in Jesus. Praise you my dear El Shaddai!

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Angie Williamson

 

I am the daughter of a King, “the” King, and on most days I don’t come close to being worthy of that title, but each day I try to live into it. God has blessed my life with an amazing husband who is my best friend and makes me laugh like no one else. He is an incredible father of three wonderful children. Two, he and I came up with together, and the third God recently “made in China” and we got to go pick her up this past May 2012. My 8-year-old son has a heart of pure gold; I have never seen so much innocence and compassion reside in one person in my life. He is a man after God’s own heart. My 3-year-old daughter is my joy. She is hilarious and spirited; a smile is always on my face when I think of her. My 2.5 year old daughter is kind hearted and brilliant, her capacity for learning and joy that we have seen in just 6 months of knowing her is unbelievable. I am also an advocate for Compassion International and we sponsor 4 children that I consider as dear as my own. So I suppose I’m a Mother to 7 children…no wonder I’m exhausted! God is so good to me I can hardly stand it.  You can follow Angie”s blog at Just the 5 of Us Now.

Russia On My Mind

As I was standing during worship at my church in Orlando this past Sunday, out of nowhere God brought up Russia on my mind. It caught me by surprise that God brought this particular thought into my head. God does that, catches us by surprise. Now for those who don

Wayne waits

How can I describe him? Who can I give words to describe the 4-year-old boy who has changed my life?

Going to China this past summer opened my eyes as I got to see how these orphans live everyday. It opened my eyes to see what life could have been like for me. You see, 15 years ago, I lived in an orphanage in Anhui Provence, China. I lived in a building full of children like me; and we all lived alone. No parents, no families, needs barely met if at all. Sometimes I still wonder all these years later, what brought my birth parents to that place of abandoning their baby–me. I was only 1 day old when it happened; knowing I was unwanted and abandoned is an indescribable feeling. For 13 months of my life, I lived that way–unwanted and alone.

Now, I”m 15 and living in south Mississippi with the most loving and caring family. My life is filled with blessed relationships and I have the joy of riding my horse and singing and playing guitar at our church. And, I love God. With the blessing and support of my parents, He has led me back to orphans in China.

As I volunteered with Bring Me Hope this past summer, He led me to one particular orphan–Wayne, a little man from ZhengZhou. Unlike many of the orphans who come to these camps who are never made paper ready for adoption, Wayne is now available for adoption. He”s looking for a forever family just like I was. And, I believe I”ve been called to help him find it.

I will try to make words bring him to life for you (in case this video doesn”t do it). He LOVES to laugh and smile, and he is good at it too! During the camp, he was a social butterfly. I taught little Wayne how to peel off stickers, stick his tongue out, and even say “I love you” in English. He would run off to other people at camp giving out wet kisses and then would run to me with the biggest smile wanting another kiss.

Wayne has overcome so much already. His paperwork lists two special needs–mild retardation and hemiparesis. But, I can tell you from spending those 5 days with him, he is a very smart and capable little boy. His mind was so ready to learn and experience new things. In fact, he was always out smarting me! Wayne could do anything he set his mind to, priding himself on putting his sandals by himself and bathing himself in the shower. On Tuesday morning, we stepped into the elevator to head out for lunch, and he was just barely able to reach the button for the 1st floor. On Thursday, two days later, he was ready for it and managed to get up on those tippy toes and push that button! And he was so proud of him self for doing that! His left side of his body is weaker than the right. But, he can run and walk with only the slightest limp. His left-side weakness didn”t stop him from chasing the other kids around at camp or walking several blocks to a meal.

15 years ago, one family stepped out of their comfort zone to follow God”s call and adopt a baby who needed a family. Now, I”m praying that another family does the same thing for Wayne and that somehow God would use my voice to help make that happen.

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Currently, Wayne is on the shared list, available for adoption for any family using any agency working in China. If you want to learn more about him or how to find him on the list, please email Laura at laura.m.knoll@gmail.com. She will gladly talk to you about Wayne.

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Laura Knoll

Hi my name is Laura, and I am 15 years old. I live in good ole south Mississippi. I was adopted from China as a 13 month old, and God has allowed me to bloom and grow with my two younger siblings and parents. I accepted his call to go back to China in the summer of 2012 with Bring Me Hope and was able to meet kids and other volunteers who changed my life. I ride horses everyday and sing in our local churches for His glory. God is the only reason I am where I am today, and I am so very thankful!

Why We Are Not Adopting Again

Three years ago, my husband and I stood in front of the orphanage in Beijing, China, and promised we”d be back. We knew it was full of children who were dying, who went to bed hungry every night, and cried for someone, anyone to love them.

We”d always wanted four. It seemed logical: two boys and two girls. Everyone would have a best-friend for life. And Evie would know the bond of a sister from her birth country.

It sounded beautiful. And we honestly thought that was where God was leading us. He had given us Evie. He had shown us over and over that Evie was our daughter. We had prayed for months, “Bring her home. Bring her home. Bring her home.”

And then we landed in Chicago. And discovered Evie”s undisclosed special need– developmental delays. Not only did she have tetrology of fallot and cleft lip and palate, but she could hardly sit, stand, walk, talk, chew, turn the pages of a book. She was completely and utterly shutdown.

We saw hints of this in China. But we assumed she would wake up and start acting like a two year old. But she never did.

So my new life–the one with only 3 three kids–consisted of juggling them so we could go to PT, OT, developmental therapy, and speech multiple times a week. Plus, all her other doctor visits.

I was exhausted. And that fourth child seemed further and further away. And the guilt of ignoring my two homegrown kids weighed heavily on me.

As time passed, I got into the rhythm of my new normal. And now three years later, things seem almost under control.

But, still, we won”t be adopting again.

Evie needs too much. She is too traumatized, too emotionally fragile, too needy. The honest, bitter truth is another special needs adoption would take too much of my time away from her. There is only so much of me to go around.

We”ve prayed about this. We”ve agonized about this. Because we know there are kids who need parents who love them. We know there are kids going to bed tonight with empty bellies, who are cold, alone, and afraid. We know, because that was Evie three short years ago. She was starving–not only for nourishment, but for human touch.

We aren”t done with adoption. We just aren”t adopting.

So now we are praying, “Use us. Use us. Use us.”

And I wonder, how God will use us to care for the orphaned.

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Amy Adair-Bode

I am a Christ-follower, wife, mother, and writer. I have two wonderful boys and a princess from China. We became a family of five on August 28, 2009. My new book, One Thousand and One Tears, is now available on Amazon.

Moses

1520 BC

I see her, a tall Hebrew woman, struggling to stand. Nestled inside her body is the weight of a child, ready to arrive. Her mind is troubled. Restless nights after sleepless nights are confirmed in the dark circles underneath her eyes. The husband seems distressed too, his hands shaking. Working as a slave, forming bricks, he begs God. Tears fill their eyes, as husband and wife, apart yet together in their anxious worry, entreat the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob

The Sin of Our Generation

“I believe that this could very well be looked back on as the sin of our generation. I look at my parents and ask, where were they during the civil rights movement? I look at my grandparents and ask, what were they doing when the holocaust in Europe was occurring with regard to the Jews, and why didn’t they speak up? And when we think of our great, great, great-grandparents, we think how could they have sat by and allowed slavery to exist? And I believe that our children and their children, 40 or 50 years from now, are going to ask me, what did you do while 40 million children became orphans in Africa?”

–Rich Stearns, President of World Vision

I first read this quote awhile ago but came across it again recently and it hit me in a much different way. I don

Together

When we were waiting to adopt, I remember sitting in adoption training and workshops as speakers attempted to paint a realistic picture of adoption. Although I’m convinced no one can fully prepare someone to adopt, we’re thankful we were not sold the lie that adoption is glamorous and easy. Beautiful, yes. Necessary, sometimes. Easy-breezy? Never. The adoption community around us helped our family understand that we were volunteering to walk into a life-long situation built on loss, hurt, pain, and the unknown. There would be varying degrees of loss, pain, and the unknown for every adoptive household, but we knew…those elements would exist in our story moving forward. Most painfully, they would exist in our child’s story.

No matter what labels or adjectives we assign to the conversation of adoption, here’s one thing I know with certainty; adoption is miraculously brave. When families have been well-educated about what real-life adoption looks like and sign up to take on an innocent child’s grief, loss, rage, and insecurities, I’m not sure if there is anything that requires more faith and courage. Not courage in the “Pass me the cape, I’m heroic, I’ll save you” sort of way. Courage in the “we’re already imperfect in this house, feel like fat parenting failures most days while raising kids without a lot of emotional scars, and yet we’re willing to rearrange our own dysfunction to make space for another life filled with hurt and fear.”

What I did not know at the time I was sitting in adoption training and conferences was what a mess I was as an individual. I think I ignorantly thought that we could offer a stable home, hold a hurting child, and make it a little better for them. When I imagined life as an adoptive, therapeutic parent, it was mostly the child needing the therapy…the support…the love. We would be there for them. We would do what it took to help them.

Simply stated, our child would need help. We would be the ones helping. The healthy, helping the unhealthy. The strong parenting the weak. The whole raising the broken.

Nothing could have been further from the truth.

If there is one prevailing message we have been learning as a family over the past five years, it’s this one…

You can’t be near the broken without coming face to ugly face with your own brokenness.

Fear, shame, pain, anger, and insecurity cause my child to break down and lose it. My own fear, shame, pain, anger, and insecurity fuel my embarrassing responses to his behavior. To say this isn’t how I imagined these scenarios playing out pre-adoption would be laughable.

Before adopting I thought I’d be here for my child, the instrument of help and healing to my child. The real truth is, I’m simply here with my child. Walking through our hurt and dysfunction together. Holding my child after an episode that leaves us sweaty and breathless admitting that we’re both a wreck in need of healing. In need of a miracle.

Me, needing to be parented by God while I attempt to parent.

Me, a child of this fallen world and thus a child of trauma to some extent, attempting to parent a child of trauma.

On paper this seems like such a bad idea, and I guess it would be if we fail to admit that we need healing just as much as our kids do.

We’re neck deep right now in evaluations for our son, counseling, and adoption support groups. We’re learning tactics, modifying diets, getting much-needed support, education, love, and understanding. These resources are extremely valuable. Most valuable is finding ourselves in a safe community where we feel free and encouraged to fully acknowledge our own shortcomings that keep us from responding to brokenness and pain with love, empathy, and patience. Prior to adopting, I thought adoption meant inviting loss, insecurity, and hurt into our story. Instead, adoption has been just as much about realizing to what extent those elements were already a very real part of our story and what it looks like to parent a hurting child out of our own rich bank of emotional deficits.

As painful and exhausting as this part of our life is in the moment, it’s surprising how hopeful and thankful I feel.

Adoption is the gift that you never quit opening, isn’t it?

I remember sitting in adoption training and conferences while we waited to adopt. I was scared but eager to be a small part of redemption in our future child’s life. I foolishly thought our family would be used (even if it was only in a minuscule way) to bring healing and health to a child who was coming from a place of loss and pain. Instead, our son is forever the reason why God is bringing healing and health to us. Oh, the irony.

We are learning that we rarely walk before our kids through pain, loss, insecurity, and fear. We walk with them. It’s less about healing them, and more about healing together.

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Heather Hendrick

 

Heather Hendrick is wife to Aaron and mom to four crazy boys.

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