Is it Christmas?

For most Americans the first Monday in September is a day to celebrate Labor Day. But for my wife Christel, and even several of my co-workers (yes, I’m talking about YOU Jennifer and Desirea), it represents something completely different. For this strange breed of people, it signals the start of the Christmas season. That’s right…Christmas. Now I love Christmas just as much as the next guy, but apparently not as much as some. It’s only September people!! Autumn doesn’t even officially start until September 22nd and I’m going to be hearing Bing Crosby and Nat King Cole tunes beginning this week. Both at home AND at the office!! And then out come the Christmas DVD’s.

If I’m suddenly missing, you can find me on the island of misfit toys, hanging out with trains with square wheels and squirt guns that shoot JELLY. (At least until Thanksgiving).

So, for these special people in my life and all of those like them, I give you this website. Enjoy.

http://isitchristmas.com/


-Rob (Scrooge until after Thanksgiving)

No day but today

I saw Rent on Broadway when it first opened in the late 90’s. I camped out overnight on the sidewalk in front of the Nederlander Theatre on 41st street for the $20 front row tickets. I left the show that night with a burning desire to learn what it means to live in the moment.

At one point in the play, the men and women learning to live and die with AIDS sing (with tears literally coming down some of their faces):

"There's only us
There's only this
Forget regret
Or life is yours to miss
No other road
No other way
No day but today

There's only now
There's only here
Give in to love
Or live in fear
No other path
No other way
No day but today..."

I’m discovering that living in the moment takes conscious effort. To not dwell on yesterday or stress about tomorrow is a way of living that I’m still trying to figure out. This wait for Honour has proven that I’m not very good at it. But I want to learn.

Some years ago, I took author Brennan Manning (Ragamuffin Gospel) out to lunch and asked him what the secret to living in the moment was. He simply answered; “Discipline.” I was really hoping for some kind of easy step by step approach. Follow step one, two and three, or pull all the right levers in the right order and bingo…you’re living in the moment. Unfortunately it’s not that easy. He said it takes a disciplining of your mind to be present, listening and aware right here and right now.

Sorry, but when I hear the word discipline, I have childhood flashbacks of my dad saying “this is going to hurt me more than it’s going to hurt you” right before I received a well deserved spanking. So I’m retraining my mind to think of discipline as a beautiful word and action. A practice that could help create a way of thinking which enables me to not miss the moment.

All this anxious waiting is actually beginning to help me with this discipline. It's causing me to dig a little deeper.

So, in a roundabout, yet beautiful way, Honour is teaching me how to live. And for that, I’m grateful.

-Rob

Wishing on a painted star

This past Friday, Christel picked me up at the office for a lunch date at a great local Thai restaurant. We then walked over to the Yale University Art Gallery for the rare opportunity to see a special exhibit of Vincent Van Gogh’s original Cypresses and The Starry Night. I’m not an art connoisseur, but The Starry Night took my breath away.

I think what adds even more beauty to these stunning works of art is the fact that Van Gogh painted both of these masterpieces while confined to a mental asylum during a very dark time in his life. The paintings depict the view outside his sanitarium room window.

I never cease to be inspired and challenged by those, who by life’s circumstances should by all rights only see darkness and night, but somehow are still able to see beauty, light and even stars.

I remember when I was little, there were times when I would look up at the night sky and wish upon a star. As I’ve grown older, these wishes look more like prayers. Yet they still have the same longing and ache.

As I was looking at Van Gogh’s, The Starry Night, I thought to myself; ‘if you’re going to wish upon a star…now is the time, because these are some REALLY nice stars.’ So off into Van Gogh’s starry night went my wish. And off into heaven went my prayer, which hopefully even caught the attention of the God of the fatherless, the orphan, the broken, and the least.

-Rob

To wallow or to swim?

Okay…so I’ve been wallowing. Waiting and wallowing. I called Christel from the office yesterday after still not hearing any news on the adoption front and said, “That’s it! I think I’m going to rename our blog “WithOUT Honour”!! Because as time goes by, it’s becoming more and more of a daily effort to picture us with her. Then I felt a little sick. What’s happening to me? To my hope? To my faith? I’m wallowing and it’s not good.

According to Webster’s Dictionary, to “wallow” means:
“1. To roll one's self about, as in mire; to tumble and roll about; to move lazily or heavily in any medium; to flounder; as, swine wallow in the mire.
2. To live in filth or gross vice; to disport one's self in a beastly and unworthy manner.
3. To wither; to fade”

Then I saw the news story of Dutch Olympian, Maarten van der Weijden. Given only a slim chance of survival when diagnosed with leukemia seven years ago, he won the 10km open water swim this week, one of the most grueling Olympic events. For those of you like me, who never paid attention in school, 10km is a little over 6 miles. He swam it in 1 hour and 51 minutes. It would take me a week to swim 6 miles! And I would probably need “swimmies” on my arms.

Van der Weijden spoke on how his fight against cancer has affected him. "It taught me to think step by step and be patient. When you are in so much pain lying in a hospital bed you aren't thinking about the next month, but the next hour. This is the same strategy I use in the pack when we are racing and waiting my chance.”

Now, where are my swimmies?

-Rob

Out of the mouths of babes

We keep track with other families adopting children from Vietnam through our agency's message boards and blogs. Every time someone gets a referral or approval to travel, it's cause for great celebration in our home. Our hearts leap when we see someone post the long awaited news of final "TA" (travel approval). There have been several in the last week or two. This morning there was another. As we read this morning's post out loud (we like our kids to be part of celebrating good news), our 6 year old daughter Jasmine looked up at us in part confusion and mostly frustration and said; "Wait...I thought it was OUR turn to go to Vietnam! Everyone in the world is going to Vietnam, except us". We didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

We, along with several other families from our agency happen to be adopting from a province in Vietnam that for reasons only known to their own officials, takes a MUCH longer time to process adoptions than any other province. So we are all watching families who came into the process well after we did, sail through the process much more quickly. Again...we honestly take joy in celebrating every family's great news. But it's been over 2 1/2 years now. And even our kids are feeling it now. This waiting sucks. Okay, I said it. It sucks. It sucks. It sucks. Waah! Waah! Waah! And now I will have some cheese with this whine. Thanks for listening.



-Rob

Two ways to live

Two great writers with two different observations on living life:

Henry David Thoreau wrote; “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately… I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life… to put to rout all that was not life… and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”

And John Lennon wrote in his song “Beautiful Boy”; “Life is what happens to you when you’re busy making other plans.”

Frankly…we have grown tired of planning. We are trying desperately hard to live deliberately today, and putting our plans on the shelf…for now.

So, we are attempting to live more Thoreau-like; planning less and deliberately living in the moment more. Easier said than done. (Actually, my attempts have been pretty sad lately). Giving up control in this adoption process is a daily discipline, even when there seems to be so little we can control at this point anyway. I think maybe I subconsciously associate giving up control with just…well…giving up. And when it comes to bringing our daughter home, we won’t give up. Ever.

-Rob

Very happy and a little sad

Happy because…Our daughter Amber came home from college last night!!!! Our family hasn’t seen her since last Christmas. She will be with us for about six weeks, before going back to the west coast. Everyone is VERY excited and happy to see their big sister.

Sad because… she had timed her trip so that she could be here while we were in Vietnam to help watch the younger kids, and desperately wanted to be here for Honour’s homecoming. The way it looks now, outside of a miracle…that isn’t going to happen. But…in the meantime, we will relish having all of our baby birds back in one nest.

Welcome home Amber!

-Rob

How we might fund our next adoption(s)?

Nothing could be less exciting for my kids than to wander up and down the aisles of Home Depot with Dad as I feel compelled to look at every tool, gadget, etc. My eyes glaze over in a kind of euphoric “I could really use that tool” kind of daze. The bizarre thing is that I don’t really know how to fix things anyway. It’s just fun to imagine what I could do with these cool power tools if I did. If my wife and I want some alone time, we just need to ask “who wants to go with Daddy to Home Depot?” and the kids disappear immediately. I swear it’s like magic.

Our daughter Michaela is incredibly smart. I told her recently that she was the kid that I wanted to sit behind when I was in school so I could look at her answers during tests. She has as close to a photographic memory as I have ever seen. We are learning to make full use of this gift. On a recent trip to Home Depot I had to buy a section of fence. We went to the back of the store and then outside to where they keep the fences. I realized I didn’t have a pen with me to write down the bar code/SKU number (it was a long one), and I really didn’t want to drag this huge section of fence all through the store to bring it to the cashier. I asked Michaela if she could memorize the bar code/SKU number. She said “no problem Dad.” I quickly forgot about it and continued to wander around the store for another hour looking at “stuff”. When I finally made it to the check out, I told the cashier I wanted to buy a section of fence. She asked; “Do you have the SKU number.” I looked at Michaela, seriously thinking there is no way… and with a knowing and confident smile she rattled off the exact number. I wish you could have seen the look on the cashiers face.

I immediately started thinking…next stop…Las Vegas for some card counting at the blackjack tables! Only to provide the funds needed for our next few adoptions of course.

Our amazing Michaela (can't you just see her mind going a mile a minute?)

-Rob