8 year old inspiration

This randomly came out of the mouth and amazing heart of our youngest son Micah;

“Sometimes I can hear music in things that nobody else can hear.”

This confirms my belief that angels still sing to children.

-Rob

Another celebration!

“It is through the idealism of youth that man catches sight of truth, and in that idealism he possesses a wealth which he must never exchange for anything else.” - Albert SchweitzerHAPPY BIRTHDAY TY!

If you had the choice to eat at any restaurant you wanted to, where would you eat? We have a little family tradition that gives that choice to whoever happens to be celebrating a birthday. Yesterday Tyler turned 19. We live in an area that boasts some amazing places to eat; every kind of ethnic food imaginable and some VERY upscale restaurants. So where was Tyler's dream place to eat?? Taco Bell!!??!! Just another reason to really love this guy.

The very satisfied Birthday boy.

Ty and Amber celebrating a pre-birthday party before she left for college last week.

We love you Ty and are so proud of the man you have become. Happy Birthday.

"THE CALL"

In the adoption community there is a certain phone call that we all wait for. Some of us, for years. We simply refer to it as “the call.” Everyone who has ever waited or continues to wait knows what I’m talking about. It is the phone call that you ache for, wish for, pray for, dream about and wonder if it will ever come. It is the phone call from the adoption agency saying; “it’s time.” It is the call announcing travel approval to finally bring your child home. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve received “the call” during the last few years, only to wake up in the morning to realize that it was just a dream.

We received “the call” today. In a moment, our lives changed forever. Honour’s coming home. She’s really coming home. When we wake up tomorrow, we won’t be waking up from a dream this time. Our little girl is coming home.

Thank you for standing with us, praying with us, and believing for us when we struggled to believe anymore. We have friends who are still waiting. Please remember them and their little ones who still wait for home.



-Rob

Missing you

There is something about having all of your children under one roof that helps you sleep at night. I’ve slept well for the last six weeks…until last night.

We said goodbye again to Amber yesterday as she headed back to the northwest for her senior year of college. It was such a gift having her home for the last six weeks. I am in awe at what an amazing and talented young woman our daughter has become. She inspires me. Her absence is already glaringly obvious, leaving a definite sense of vacancy in our home as well as dark circles under my eyes.

We miss you already Am!

A mom and daughter walk in the woods before the tearful goodbyes begin.

-

-Rob

If desperation had a face

Which is a more desperate longing? To find or to be found? If you have ever lost something of value, you understand the ache to find. If you’ve ever lost your car keys, a wallet or maybe even a child in a store, you know what I’m talking about.

I remember when Christel was in the hospital after giving birth to our son Tyler. While she was there, I was left in charge of our 2 year old daughter Amber. This was a huge act of trust and risk taking on my wife’s part. Since she was in the hospital, she really didn’t have much choice. This was my chance to prove what a great Dad I was.

The only other time I was ever left alone and “in charge” of Amber was about a year before Tyler was born. Christel left me with Amber so she could go out shopping for an hour. While she was gone, Amber drank a whole bottle of bubbles while I was in another room. Not good.

So now I had the chance to redeem myself. On the way to the hospital to visit Christel, I stopped by a store to pick something up and when I turned around, Amber was gone! After calling her name and looking up and down aisles without finding her, I quickly moved into panic mode. Store employees joined the search to no avail. My fear quickly turned to terror. Just about the time I was either going to crumple to the floor in despair or jump out of a window, I heard the sound of giggling coming from inside a rack of clothes. I pulled the clothes aside and there was little Amber just having the greatest time hiding from Dad. Terror instantly turned to relief, joy and celebration.

The desperation to find can be intense. My friend Mike wrote a line in a song which says; “If desperation had a face, would it look like me?” Have you seen that look? I remember seeing it a few years ago in the faces of wives and children desperately waiting for news on the fate of husbands or fathers who were trapped in a coal mine in West Virginia. I saw it again that same year, in the faces of family members anxiously awaiting news from search parties looking for their loved ones lost on Mt. Hood in Oregon. I’ve seen it in the faces of mothers in China desperately digging through the rubble of schools that crumbled in on their children after a massive earthquake earlier this year.

The desperation to be found is equally intense. More than once I’ve heard the desperate cries of one of my kids who have wandered away from us in a crowded store and found themselves all of a sudden alone in another aisle, with Mom and Dad nowhere to be found. The sound of fear in their voice crying out; “MOM!! DAD!!” could send every mother and father in the store running to find them.

Sadly, we rarely hear the stories of those desperate to be found. We can’t begin to imagine what it must have been like to be trapped in the depths of a dark mine, or huddled in a snow cave, or buried under rubble, longing for the sound or sight of those who are desperate to find. I’ve seen the look in the eyes of those desperate to be found. I’ve seen it in the homeless and the broken. I’ve seen it in children first coming into one of our safehomes and in the look of children (especially older children) in orphanages still waiting for families of their own.

The longing to find and the longing to be found have many of the same expressions. They both involve fear, terror, desperation, grief, hope, expectation.

Which is a more desperate longing? I don’t know.

This I do know:
I looked in the mirror this morning and saw the face of desperation. A desperation to find. I want my little girl home.

If desperation had a face…it would look like me.

-Rob

Next post: Which is a greater joy and celebration? Finding or being found?

Survival of the fittest

The following is what happens when you have 5 or more kids in the house and you’re late for dinner.

A couple of nights ago, Christel baked the mother of all apple pies. I was late for dinner so she told the kids; “Make sure you save a piece of pie for your Dad.” This was the “piece” they saved for me.

Now I understand the expression; “Everyone wants their piece of the pie.” I want to add to that…“and Dad’s piece too!” Lesson learned: Don’t be late for dinner!! And if you are…eat the dessert first!

-Rob

New update!!

Every quarter we receive an update on Honour. These updates include information on her health and development as well as new pictures. This is the fifth quarterly update we have received! Hopefully the last. We thought she would be home by now.

According to this latest update, Honour is in good health. She likes gardening, playing with other children and “always puts her shoes on the wrong feet.” She “defends her possessions and has a difficult time sharing toys.” (Sounds like other kids we know). Her vocabulary is increasing slowly and she “avoids hazards and common dangers such as fire.” Yikes! I don’t even want to think about how they find this out.

And now for the best part…PICTURES! The pictures include her opening some small gifts and a photo book of our family we sent a while back.

The shout gets louder

As John Cleese from Monty Python used to say; “And now for something completely different.”

Many of you know that I run a human rights organization (Love146) dealing with child trafficking and exploitation. I rarely use this blog to talk about the issue because it’s pretty dark. I am often asked how I keep hope alive when faced with the staggering statistics of child slavery and exploitation on a daily basis. One of my key sources of hope is when I see others engage and join the fight for the broken. When I see others come to the table to offer their voice, skills, education, time, or finances to make a difference, I am infused with hope.

Over the years we’ve had some amazing people, from all walks of life and every sector of society join the fight for the innocent and forgotten. We are excited when we see those with public platforms using them to be a voice for the voiceless. A recent addition to the volume of our “shout” is the band Paramore (www.paramore.net) who have joined us in our work to abolish child slavery and restore survivors of trafficking and exploitation. The band was nominated for best rock video and played on the MTV Video Music Awards show this past Sunday night. They have amazing hearts and a real passion for this issue. In adding their voice to the collective shout, they’re using their large public platform to inspire their generation to join the fight in bringing the exploitation of children to an end. Not only are they raising awareness about the issue and promoting our work during their concerts, but they are raising funds for one of our safehomes in SE Asia as well. The clothing company Hurley has created a special edition "hoodie" for the band and a large portion of the proceeds from the sale of these will go toward the safehome. http://www.hurley.com/ms/music/paramore/

We recently created cloth patches with the number 146 printed on them for bands to wear during their shows to create awareness. The patch is very similar to the one that the young girl (#146) in the brothel wore. (Click here for her story) When I first met with Paramore earlier this summer, I shared with them that this is the kind of patch that I've seen girls wearing in the brothels, where they've had even the dignity of their name taken from them and are being sold by number. So when bands or others wear the patch, they are remembering the forgotten and honoring a young girl known only as 146. And so her story...our story...the story of these broken little ones is being told all over the world and helping to inspire a movement to end this modern day slavery! And that is our hope.

I’d like to invite you to add your voice as well. You can start here.

-

My kids (Tyler and Amber) with Paramore after we went out to lunch with the band.

-Rob

Ain't it the truth

"Hope deferred makes the heart sick,

but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life."

(Poverbs 13:12)

-Rob

The dream of God

About 12 years ago we began the adoption process for a child from China. After almost two years into the process we received a call from our agency saying that our petition to adopt was denied by China and our hope for a child came to an abrupt end. I will never forget that day. My wife literally dropped the phone and fell to her knees sobbing. I remember her stretching her arms out in front of her and crying out “My arms physically ache to hold my little girl and now I’m being told it’s never going to happen.”

There are few times in life that you experience this kind of grief. It was the loss of a child. Though we had never seen her face to face, she became ours through our longing and our daily prayers for her. I remember our older kids calling her by the nickname “China girl”. We would pray every night for “China girl” to come home soon. So this was a devastating loss for our little family.

Christel and I attended some adoption support group meetings for the next few months to help us work through the grieving process. During this time we had well meaning people endeavor to come up with explanations of why this happened or try to “fix” things by coming up with the right thing to say. These were sincere attempts to comfort us or make sense out of something that didn’t make any sense. The most helpful were those few close friends who did not have any answers but were courageous enough to be with us in our pain without trying to fix it and to practice what Paul the Apostle encouraged us to do... “Weep with those who weep.”

Side note: For some incredibly practical and life giving advice on helping those who grieve, check out this from one of our favorite bloggers: (Thanks Ann!) http://crazyforkids.blogspot.com/2008/08/helping-bereaved.html

We spent months attempting to find some healing for our broken hearts. One Friday night we were heading out the door for a support group meeting when the phone rang. We were going to ignore it because we were already running late for the meeting. At the last second I decided to answer it. The words I heard on the other end have been burned into my memory forever. “Rob, this is your adoption agency. You are about to have a great weekend! We have a little girl for you in China! Your daughter is coming home” Stammering for words I asked “What?? How?? I thought that it was over??” To which she replied; “So did we. But we just received a package from China with your names all over it, with the referral of a little 20 month old girl who has the face of an angel.” She said she had no idea how it happened.

I just broke into sobs and laughter, and the social worker at our agency was crying on the other end of the phone shouting “I love my job”!! Christel came running in and frantically started asking, “What’s going on?? Who is it?? What’s happening??” Through tears and laughter I just looked at her and said, “China girl is coming home. Our little girl is coming home!” I wondered if this is how the family of the little girl that Jesus raised from the dead felt.

A few weeks later we were on our way to China. I will never forget the day when we found ourselves standing in a room in Chongqing, China with a few other families, waiting for the orphanage workers to bring in our children. When they finally announced our name, we saw an orphanage worker walk into the room holding by the hands… the dream of God. A little girl, who we named Michaela. The worker slowly walked her over to where we were standing. I watched as once again my wife dropped to her knees and stretched out her arms. Arms that would now no longer ache. The orphanage worker let go of Michaela’s little hands, and just like she always belonged there, she hobbled into the embrace of arms that have never let go. China girl was home.

In the last few weeks that same familiar ache has been intensifying. The ache to hold. To embrace. To love. It is almost unbearable. But I know a day is coming. A day not unlike that day almost 10 years ago. A day when the dream of God becomes a reality again.
I can only hope it comes soon.

-Rob