Her Nanny’s Love

The nanny strokes the head lying in the crook of her arm. “You’re so cute,” she croons. Then to me, “he’s just unbelievably adorable.” I smile, and glance at the little one in her arms. He grins up at me, kicks his little feet… it doesn’t take long and I am smitten as well.

“Is he your favorite?” I ask. I learned early that when a child has been chosen as a favorite, a life is changed. Even in a place like this, where each little one is cared for equally, held for the same percentage of the day, and hears the same voices, the babies know that they are chosen.

I think that there must be something special, hidden deep inside each child’s heart, which responds to love. It’s like radar… their little hearts send out signals, searching for echoes of love from our own hearts. And when the beams collide, magic happens. The child changes, grows, flourishes. He doesn’t have to wait for a family; a nanny can help make that change.

“Of course,” she says. “But she’s my favorite too. They both are.” She’s referring to the sweet one in my arms… so sick, but so loved. This baby is my favorite, there’s no doubt about that. Just ask the nannies, they all know. I think that I chose her because she was hard; hard to care for, hard to love. Somehow, I thought that she needed extra love that I could give. She needed to be a favorite.

“They’re both my favorites,” she continues, “but she… she’s hard. Loving her makes my heart hurt.”

The look in her eyes speaks volumes, and empathy fills my soul. I know just what she means. Loving this precious one aches; it digs deep and pierces the tender parts of my heart. That’s what loving dangerously is all about, though, and I just can’t escape. I can’t escape from her… from loving her.

But it’s true, it makes my heart hurt. And it makes her nanny’s heart hurt too.

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chinese adoption
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.

In Action

It was after a Focus on the Family broadcast during Adoption Awareness Month four or five years ago about Antioch Adoptions that God first started tugging us toward orphan ministry. We had decided we couldn

The Beauty

“Mommy, do they have stickers in Africa?” my Grace asked.

“Um…..I didn’t see any. I’m sure they do though.”

After some thought, she continues, “It’s got to hurt those kids…walking on their bare feet like they do….”

I smile weakly and think, I’m sure it does.

I received an email this week from a young man I came to know while in Uganda. We met briefly at the children’s prison. He spoke English. He was 18. His name was Kiyemba Walter Trevor. I spoke with him for just a moment, and after a short introduction, he was already a kindred spirit, warning me of some boys who were talking about stealing my things, telling me about his school and love for art and drawing (kindred spirit indeed!), describing how he came to live for the past two weeks in this one room prison with 30 other boys. And, when I gave him my Bible, he cried that it was the “best day of his life.”

There was so much beauty in that moment. Beauty I’ll never be able to describe. It didn’t come from me, or even him necessarily. It came from being directly, immediately, in the stark center of God’s will. Doing exactly what He purposed me to do, using these inexperienced hands to fulfill a prayer from Walter who had prayed just days earlier for a Bible of his own.

I miss that. In the days of this Christmas season, I find that there is nothing I’d rather think about or talk about or read about, than that very subject. Trying to figure out how to be brave. Bold. The Matthew 16:25 kind of bold…..”for whoever tries to save his life shall lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will find it.”

The ability to lose your life, but find it. The Beauty of being in His fullness.

Grace asked that question because she knows it has been on my mind. She, in her own way, is trying to bond with me, figure me out, share an experience with me – it’s sweet. I hope this Christmas, she’ll understand why mommy kind of gets quiet every now and then.

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A mom of two, wife of one, and teacher to many. God blessed me with an unbelievable partner in life who encourages me to dive deeper. I didn’t know how deep until July 2011, I had the opportunity to travel with Visiting Orphans to Uganda. For 14 days, we divided our time between weeping for the imprisoned children and orphans in poverty and staring in awe at their undeniable faith, joy, and communion with Christ. I was forever changed. My mission then came to help Sixty Feet,

All Fall Down

For a while now, my dreams have been of paperwork and notaries. Every night. This was one of many reasons why I was so grateful to turn over the paperwork and start the wait.

I’ve been having a new dream: A tiny bright light in the distance, beaming with an intensity that pulses like a heartbeat. It’s beautiful.

But there are thoughts you have in the darkness that no one prepares you for.

Right now, adoption is literally under attack. There is much concern about trafficking and adoption abuse. When you begin the adoption journey, these facts hit you in the face and chase you in the night.

What if my child could have remained with their parents for a few dollars a month? What if there is a mother crying in the night for the child she just gave up due to poverty?

It’s enough to make you quit. Or take the entire adoption loan and donate it to a mother, or a family, or a village.

Dr. Jane Aronson responded to the recent adoption concerns in the Huffington Post yesterday: “Why did we create such a marvelous bureaucracy to improve international adoption practices and not pour some of that money into the welfare of mothers in these countries?”

The reality is that if we feed the mothers, we feed the children. If we educate the mothers, we save the children. If we give parents access to antiretroviral medications for HIV/AIDS, lives are saved and families remain intact.

I have noticed that parents of internationally adopted children naturally fall into a common stream of charities or causes. You would think it would be “Adopt! We did it! It’s great!” It is; but it’s not. The causes are AIDS, poverty, and clean water. It is a natural progression to care for these things when you care for a child affected by AIDS, poverty, and famine. Promoting these issues are promoting orphan care.

There is a major dilemna that we all must face as Christians at some point. As Americans, we are ALL wealthy in comparison to the rest of this world. As Americans, we are known to the rest of this world as a “Christian nation.”

Americans give to the hungry at a low percentage of their GNP (gross national product) in comparison to other nations. What are we, as individual wealthy Christian Americans, telling the poverty-stricken world around us about Jesus Christ? What are we telling the world about the Gospels?

We are NOT the widow giving up her two coins.
We are the rich, making a big show of our tiny gifts.

Our adoption is not fixing any large problem. It is just an act of obedience. You may not feel called to adopt, but I will tell you that you can still do something to impact the orphan crisis in a huge way…you can sponsor a child. You can be an active voice for the hungry and the poor, putting action behind your voice. You can be aware that “if you have food in the refrigerator, clothes on your back, a roof overhead and a place to sleep, you are richer than seventy five percent of the people in the world.”

We can raise our children to understand that our wealth is determined by what we give to Jesus, not what we keep for ourselves. We can give until it hurts; the essense of “sacrificial giving.” It’s a lesson that I think I will have to spend the rest of my life learning, as I struggle to un-learn the American Dream and realign myself with the words of Jesus Christ.

When I get caught up in the ethics of adoption, I remember the waiting children in the videos. Waiting in cribs that are lined up like kennels. Waiting in beds lined with chicken wire, crying for their loss of everything, waiting for us to figure out what to do with them, while we argue over pie charts about how to do it.

Paul and I have been called to carry one of these children, maybe more than one, as our own. I don’t know why. I don’t have to. It’s just The Plan. What happens after that point will be our mission and responsibility for the rest of our lives; to care for and promote that child’s country, to bring to the attention of other Christians the poverty and disease that is swallowing children and people whole. I am grateful for this burden.

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Missy Roepnack

Missy

{Advocating} He’s Ready

I want to tell you about a little boy called Lei Xiao Feng (lay shou[t – without the t] fung). He is the most amazing boy that I have ever met, so joyful and energetic. I had the joy of spending 5 short but incredible days with him. Each day, I felt myself loving him more and more and, at the same time, realizing that I would have to say goodbye.

My translator and I met him on the Monday morning when we were introduced to a timid 8-year-old boy. He didn’t say much at first, but it must have been a scary experience – being taken out of his orphanage and meeting a Westerner! We can be pretty scary. But, he soon warmed up when we had lunch – his favorite, as he said – dumplings and noodles (they say food is the way to a man’s heart, right?). We played some games, like football and basketball, and watched him come alive. This boy’s got a real talent for sports. Throughout the week, he even took to some new sports like volleyball and badminton.

He loved to be picked up, especially to be put on our shoulders (where he must have spend half of the week!!) and on our backs. He quickly picked up on the fact that I couldn’t speak Chinese, so we played a lot of charades. When he wanted to go on my back or shoulders, he would point and pat at his back and say something like “ba” in an attempt to say back. And, of course, I had to oblige.

We asked him if he would like an English name since a lot of the older kids do. He eagerly said yes, and we started thinking of one that would suit him. I went through heaps of names but none of them seemed to work. We even thought of putting my name (Rob) with my translator’s name (Jeremy) to make a new name — Jerob. Someone gave the suggestion of Jacob, and I knew instantly that it was the one! He was a Jacob! By the end of the week, he responded so happily to Jacob — perhaps it made him feel more a part of us to have a new name with us.

When I think about Jacob, two special memories come to mind.

We were on the basketball court. He noticed the net, and other kids attempting to score. He made a few feeble attempts, but it was obvious to all of us that jump as he may, he was just too short to get it in. But, he kept trying…with no success. I scooped him up and put him on his favorite spot–my shoulders. After a few tries, he got it. He made his first basket. We were all laughing and smiling, enjoying his thrill of success. I know I will remember that moment for a long time — but I’m pretty certain that Lei Xiao will remember it longer.

During the camp, we took all the kids to a water fountain show. Picture a wide open space with water shooting up from the ground, synchronized to music. It looked amazing to us. And, the orphans who were with us were maybe even more amazed, having never seen anything like it. The image still playing in my head of Jacob spinning around in the water and simply dancing with his beaming smile is one I think about all the time.

Likely, because two of his fingers on his right hand are different, he became an orphan. But, what some may call a “handicap” has not handicapped him at all. He does everything an 8-year-old boy can do–except hold the hands of a mom and dad.

His name–Lei Xiao Feng–means something along the lines of “thunder of a small mountain peak.” We were told that it’s a very strong name, given in hope that he would be outstanding and find himself on top of the world. Yet, he waits. Alone.

I have no doubt that he would strive in a family, having people to love him, care for him. He is such a joyful, lovable, amazing kid. He really is a joy to be around. I miss him. I pray his family will find him soon. He’s ready to meet them.

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Please visit here to see a video Rob put together about Lei Xiao

And, please email Kelly@wearegraftedin.com if you are interested in learning more about him. Additional pictures and medical information are available.

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Rob Molloy is from Dublin in Ireland. He recently graduated from Secondary School and will be starting University shortly. This past summer, he spent 2 life-changing weeks in China with Bring Me Hope serving through summer camps for orphans. He fell in love with China and Chinese orphans and feels God has put these precious children on his heart for a lifetime.

Are You Up for a Challenge?

I’ve spent the last 7 years working with orphans – first through adoption and then hands on at New Day Foster Home in China. Now, I admire my daughter’s beautiful smile, figure out how to make her laugh, and generally try to learn how to mother a 5-month-old gracefully. It is such a change…. Some days, I’m completely engrossed in my daughter; and other days, I miss my “other” life… the one surrounded by children many have forgotten.

In my new role as a stay-at-home-mom to a busy baby, I’ve been praying for ways to stay connected to the orphans I love. It’s funny how those prayers always get answered. A few weeks ago, someone wrote me asking if I could post something on my blog about a matching grant she wanted to offer NDFH.

Here’s what she wrote:

I

What if…

What if by some cruel twist of fate I woke up one morning to find that the tables were turned, and my beautiful and perfect Lily were lying in an orphanage, somewhere in Eastern Europe?

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What if she had lived out the past 16 months of her life with no mommy and daddy to love her, no brothers and sisters to dote on her every day?

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What if instead, she spent most of her waking hours in a crib, staring at the slats of the bars and playing with only her fingers or feet for comfort? What if she cried herself to sleep at night, because there was nobody who cared or had the time to attend to her when she woke up scared or lonely or sad?

What if she didn’t eat when she was hungry, go to sleep with a full belly, or have her basic needs met with loving care?

What if my Lily stayed in that orphanage for many years, never leaving it to see the world around her? What if the only connection she had to the outside world was an occasional trip to the playground on the orphanage grounds…but for the most part she was locked away, an outcast of society?

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What if she never received the help she needed through therapy, never had the opportunity to develop skills, to grow, to learn.

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What if she never got the medical attention she needed when she was first born, had attention given to that tiny hole in her heart that doctors watched so carefully. What if she survived simply because she existed, devoid of any quality of life?

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What if she were never celebrated for the treasure that she is, never nurtured or praised or adored? What if there were no parties or gifts or songs to commemorate that beautiful day she made her entrance into the world, nothing that distinguished that day from any other day of her secluded and monotonous life?

What if, after being shut away in that orphanage for five years, she woke one morning to find herself being whisked away from the only home she’d ever known- however stark or isolated- to the horror that is the Institution? What if, because of the inability of any 5 year old, let alone one with cognitive delays, she could not comprehend what had happened to her? What if there were no one to explain to her why her head was being shaved, her tiny arms tied to a crib, or where her friends had gone, and why no one was coming back for her to save her from the nightmare that was now her life?

What if that were my Lily’s fate?

What would I do?

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In the words of a dear friend

I would beg, borrow, and obsess myself to make sure she knew love and felt valued and wanted. If Lily were alone on the other side of the ocean, I would find her and rescue her no matter what the cost or how much dignity needed to be compromised.

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Albina is my Lily.

She’s no more deserving of the fate that awaits her than my child.

Or yours.

She is a beautiful and precious treasure, waiting for someone to recognize her value.

Albina is an orphan in Eastern Europe. Because she was born with Down syndrome, she is considered a burden to her society, an outcast to be hidden away.

An anonymous family has committed to matching dollar-for-dollar donations for her up to $5,000. So far, through the generosity of so many like-minded people, she now has $5,332.50 in her grant fund on Reece’s Rainbow; with the matching funds, her grant fund for her adoption is over $10,000.

I have a feeling her sweet little face is enough. But, due to the nature of international adoptions, it’s going to take a pile of money for someone to rescue her. And,

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