Archive for November, 2009
Sunday, November 8th, 2009
Orphan Sunday: How will life be better if we adopt?
(Orphan Sunday has inspired me to think of our adoption story, which begins here.)
Part 9
Johnny writes papers when he wants to explain his view or make a point. So during the days we were deciding whether to adopt, I tried to speak to him in his own language. I wrote what I hoped would be a persuasive paper.
Johnny,
I want to assure you that, in no way, do I think our ministry will be crippled if we go on as we are. It is rich. But I do believe that by adopting a daugher, God will add richness and depth and understanding and credibility in many areas of our personal and public lives.
Random Thoughts
- In general, I expect that having 1 child at home will seem very easy after all our years of 1, 2, 3, 4, 3, 2, etc.
- Having a young aunt here will be extra fun for the grandchildren that will start to visit, maybe before many years.
- Having a child again at this stage in our life will keep us from moving as quickly into older stages. It will shove us back a generation.
Pro-Life Ministry
- The very act of adopting is a renewal and revitalization of our efforts against abortion and for life — in a very new and powerful way.
- Adopting would add tremendous credibility, and confirm our seriousness in the effort for life.
- A person who is as vocal and visible as you about life will be very visible as a supporter of mothers, as a protector of children who would otherwise be unwanted and perhaps in danger, as living out the implications and responsibilities that follow in the wake of stopping an abortion.
- You have a powerful voice. Even if your writing/speaking isn’t directly about Life and adoption, it will be there, because what’s happening in your life IS there in your writing. And you will be an influence to many for the good of children who need homes.
Racial Reconciliation
- Our efforts toward racial reconciliation would have tangible credibility.
- We would have personal experience with family-level racial diversity.
- We would open ourselves to personal experience of how an African-American person and a mixed-race family is treated differently from the way to which we are accustomed.
Biblical Masculinity and Femininity
- You will gain new understanding and clarity when your Biblical understanding is applied to the life of a daughter. I expect you to have strong confirmation of what you’ve understood and taught all along.
- It will be a good thing for your promotion of these Biblical truths to actually experience and learn how to raise a girl to be a godly woman in a society that expects something else.
- Maybe there are practicalities that you haven’t even thought of, that you would see when raising a daughter, and these things would expand your understanding and teaching.
- Your speaking and writing and persuasion in this area will have new credibility, when you have a daughter.
Evangelism and Missions
- To add another child to our family becomes the most personal kind of evangelism toward adding members to the Kingdom.
- And considering our attitude toward missions, it may also be mission recruitment for the sake of the Kingdom!
Your Writing and Speaking Ministry
- Your public ministry will be deeper and richer because we know that everything God puts into our lives comes through into your writing and speaking as a clearer, more pointed explanation of God and his ways.
- We know there are angles of God’s face and aspects of his personality to be discovered in new situations he puts us into. We will experience more of God as we live with a daughter. And that deeper experience of God will make your public ministry so much richer.
- For instance, if we adopted a child, and raised her, we would understand God’s adoption in a much fuller way — what it means to adopt a person who is not part of your family and make that person fully a partaker and inheritor of your own life and family.
Being Radical and Taking Risks
- I think it would not be fair to quote yourself to you to try to make a point. But I must say that very often over the years you have made statements about taking risks and trusting God and doing unexpected and radical things — and I often hear those statements in the light of the radical thing I want to do, and therefore want you to do with me.
- To adopt — at our age and when it would certainly not be expected of us and when it is not financially easy and when it might make other ministries more difficult — would be more than a token. It would say that you are serious about radical faith.
(to be continued)
Sunday, November 8th, 2009
Orphan Sunday: Ways every Christian can care
Hope for Orphans is a ministry of FamilyLife, “serving every church to reach every orphan.”
Their website may be the best place to visit if you:
- wonder what the problem is anyway
- wonder how to help
- wonder whether your family should adopt
- wonder how to get started toward adoption
They have provided a gold mine of information for the person or church that wants to care, at whatever level, for orphans. Please spend some time exploring the site and having your heart and mind opened.
There’s even a section for kids where they can hear stories about what it’s like not having parents, and where they can get ideas how they can care for orphans and waiting children.
This flyer is being handed out to worshipers at Bethlehem Baptist this weekend: 10 Ways Every Christian can Care for the Orphan and Waiting Child.
Saturday, November 7th, 2009
Orphan Sunday, 11/8: What if he says no
(Orphan Sunday, 11/8, makes me think of our adoption story, which begins here.)
Part 8
I mentioned earlier the phone call asking if we’d consider adopting a little baby girl. And I said that soon brought me face to face with a capital-C Challenge.
In the process of our decision-making that might affect our future fathering and mothering, God caused me to experience something that would affect my future life as a wife. Looking back this seems doubly appropriate, because my being a mother is so intricately woven with being a wife and because if we adopted, it would be this particular little girl, who might someday become a wife. And, Lord willing, I’d be a mentor to her along the way.
For 2 weeks, we talked about pros and cons and about how life would be different if we adopted. We tried to imagine what affect adopting an African-American child would have on us, on our other children, on our extended family, on our church.
I’d understood for a long time that if you want to know whether a couple are trying to live together in a biblical way, sometimes the best way to tell is by observing how they handle a decision that they’ve discussed well but still haven’t been able to come to agreement on.
I don’t think there had been any significant decisions like that for us. Just smaller things where it was relatively easy for me finally to say, “Well, we’ve listened well to each other, so you know what I think, but I’m fine with whatever you decide.”
Now, here was a decision that I really cared about. It was a decision that we had to agree on. We couldn’t adopt if I was the only who thought we should do it.
But for 2 weeks, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t tell which direction Johnny was leaning, and his answer is what the final decision waited for. It’s hard to imagine, but I truly didn’t know whether to prepare for yes or for no.
Of course, I’d be ecstatic if he said Yes. But what if he said No? What would happen then?
God used those 2 weeks to get me ready for a possible No, which also meant teaching me much more deeply and personally what it means to be a biblically-oriented wife. If Johnny said we shouldn’t adopt, I knew I would be bitterly disappointed. I knew there would be tears. But I also knew that if he said no, it meant that God had other, better plans for us; I would turn my eyes toward that better future and away from adoption.
And so, I was ready–as ready as I could be–for the possibility of No. And whatever the decision, God had made me ready to be a better wife of Johnny and mother of our 4 — or 5?– children.
(to be continued)
Saturday, November 7th, 2009
Orphan Sunday, 11/8: Exhibitors at Bethlehem Baptist
Religion that is pure and undefiled
before God, the Father, is this:
to visit orphans and widows
in their affliction . . .
(James 1:27)
This is the weekend of Orphan Sunday. The exhibitors at Bethlehem this weekend represent an array of ways to “visit” orphans.
I hope you’ll look through these and pray for God’s guidance how you might be involved at some level in one of these opportunities for true religion.
Summit VI, Conference sponsored by Christian Alliance for Orphans
Safe Families for Children, equipping the church to offer biblical hospitality to children in crisis. Karl & Gerrilyn Kanowitz, MN
MN Adopt, dedicated to finding permanence for Minnesota children who need families.
The Micah Fund, saying yes to minority adoption.
Casa Hogar Alfa, creating a family for orphans in Oaxaca, Mexico.
Loving Shepherd Ministries, helping the church care for abandoned, orphaned, and at-risk children around the world.
Hope in View, sponsor a child affected by AIDS.
Life Coaches for Kids at Bethlehem Baptist, supportive mentoring of a fatherless child.
Better Future Adoption Services, focusing on adoptions from Ethiopia.
Africa Renewal Ministries, ministering to orphans in Gaba, Uganda, & sponsoring Mwangaza Children’s Choir.
Bethany Christian Services, range of adoption and foster care services.
Friday, November 6th, 2009
We interrupt this series to bring you . . . an update
It’s the week before Orphan Sunday, and I’m not finished telling our adoption story. But I need to interrupt with an important update.
Early in October I showed you before and after pictures of my walk-in junk drawer–what it looked like before and after I emptied it totally.
I also listed lies I’d been discovering as I dug out of chaos.
Lest you think that was the end and maybe things just fizzled back to chaotic normal, here’s an update–a preview of more to come, Lord willing.
Tonight Talitha and Johnny were helping me finish assembling my new work table and getting everything plugged in. Just compare the corner to any of the “before” photos.
Friday, November 6th, 2009
Orphan Sunday, 11/8: You came to the wrong place.
(Orphan Sunday, 11/8, makes me think of our adoption story, which begins here.)
I skipped ahead yesterday, so you could honor my mother with me on her birthday.
Part 7
When we were asked to consider adopting a particular little girl, we talked and prayed first–a lot–just the two of us.
After a couple of days, we walked across the street to visit with our friends who had adopted transracially. We bombarded them with questions. We tried to make it as hard as possible, because we didn’t want to make a decision that was bad for the child. Nor did we want to go into this wearing rose-colored glasses.
After a couple of hours, the husband said, smiling, “Listen, if you’re looking for someone to tell you adoption is a bad idea for you, you came to the wrong place.”
Then we talked with our 4 sons. IF we decided to adopt, the baby would be their sister forever. The 2 still at home–ages 12 and 15–had no hesitations: “Yes! Let’s do it!” The 2 who were out of state were slightly more hesitant, but within moments said something like, “Yes. You should go ahead, however God leads you.”
My interpretation of their hesitation was this: When a young person leaves home, he assumes everything will remain the same, which it never does really. But we were thinking about making a huge and sudden change, nothing gradual about it.
An added part of the hesitation came from the son who was living in Georgia. He had a hard time imagining a white family with a black daughter there, as it would be when we’d be down visiting Mother and my extended family. And we didn’t know yet what the reaction would be from my very large Southern family.
We searched out studies of transracial adoption and stories of adoptees.
We confided in a handful of close friends, so they could be praying as we considered and moved toward a decision.
And we ourselves prayed, prayed, prayed.
(to be continued)
Wednesday, November 4th, 2009
Happy Birthday, Mother!
(Orphan Sunday, 11/8, makes me think of our adoption story, which begins here.)
Part 6 (preview!)
Today is my mother’s 88th birthday.
You already know the end of our adoption story, don’t you? We adopted. So it won’t be a spoiler if I skip ahead a couple of episodes so I can recount how Mother responded when we told her we were hoping to adopt . . . a girl . . . a little African-American baby.
Here are excerpts from the email I sent her:
I have some news that you probably never thought you’d hear again from us. We think we’re going to have a baby. An adopted one this time. A girl this time. You’re expecting another grandchild!
I was inspired by having a mother who had her last baby at only about a year younger than I am now. (I thought that since menopause hasn’t hit yet, God also thought that I wasn’t too old for a baby. A friend said, “Oh great! So John gets to adapt to a new baby and menopause at the same time!)
Her birth parents are African American. We have given much thought to this, and probably have thought a lot about most of the same questions that come to your mind. Let’s talk about it whenever you want to. This is a child whose birth mother has chosen against abortion. I have longed for years to be pro-life in this way. Now a beautiful little girl needs a home and a family, and to have a grandmother who loves and enjoys her will be an immeasurable gift for her.
I’m so excited I’m hardly good for anything, and it’s only getting greater! Barnabas and Abraham are really eager, even thought it means moving into the same bedroom.
Please pray for the little girl that we hope will be our daughter. And please pray for us. It’s an amazing, mind-boggling thing to decide to be parents to a baby now when we are an age more likely to be grandparents. We’ll need booster talks from you along the way, I expect!
If you have any thoughts or questions that you want to talk about, or just want to think out loud, please call us.I love you,Noel
I emailed instead of calling to give her time to process the unexpected information before we talked. I wasn’t sure how she’d respond to the idea of transracial adoption. But the email had hardly had time to land in her inbox before my phone was ringing.
“What’s all this ‘let’s talk about it’ business? This is wonderful news. I can’t wait to run down the hill and tell Pamela. A new granddaughter! I can’t wait!”
I love you, Mother. Thank you for welcoming with love every one of the grandchildren God has given you.
(to be continued)
Wednesday, November 4th, 2009
Orphan Sunday, 11/8: Squirming and kicking
(Orphan Sunday, 11/8, makes me think of our adoption story, which begins here.)
Part 5
“Would you consider adopting her?” I can’t think of a question that could have made me happier. But the timing was a challenge for me–challenge with a small c, though, I do have to admit.
It was the beginning of a weekend. Weekends are the busiest part of the week for a pastor. And this particular weekend was loaded with extras for Johnny. I can’t remember any more what they were, but probably things like a Saturday morning seminar or a wedding rehearsal and wedding. Anyway, he had more preparation and speaking than usual to pack into the hours of each day of that weekend.
So I knew I shouldn’t even try to bring up the topic of adoption yet. Especially when there was no way this conversation could be theoretical like all the previous ones. This time we had to come to a conclusion–yes or no–not just stop talking about it until next time.
And I knew it wouldn’t be fair to him if I told anyone else about it in the meantime. This had to be between just him and me until we were ready to draw others into the conversation.
So I held the knowledge inside me, squirming and kicking, all of Friday . . . Saturday . . . Sunday, until we could talk on Monday. And no, believe it or not, I can’t remember what Monday was like!
What I do know is that this was the beginning of a couple of weeks of long talks, lots of prayer, and conversations with our children and close friends.
I would have said YES! right away on the phone. But this couldn’t be a unilateral decision. We had to come to a unified yes or no.
And that led me face to face with a capital-C kind of Challenge. What if it was going to be No?
(to be continued)
Tuesday, November 3rd, 2009
Orphan Sunday, 11/8: Knock, knock. Who’s there?
(Orphan Sunday, 11/8, makes me think of our adoption story, which begins here.)
Part 4
Although we didn’t realize it immediately, the very next day after I arrived home from Asia was going to change our lives forever.
Wen Qing and Qiu Ying were much on my mind, and therefore adoption was on my mind–mainly thoughts and feelings of sadness and frustration that the two little girls were out of my reach, probably forever.
That’s the emotional atmosphere within which the phone rang a few days later. It was the director of an out-of-state adoption agency. She and I had become friends during the many times she’d flown to Minnesota, bringing babies to their new homes.
“A little girl was born about a week ago. I’ve been praying about what home she should go to, and your family keeps coming to my mind. Would you consider adopting her?”
For a long time it had looked as if we were a family with only sons. I’d say, “Looks like the way we’re going to get daughters is by marrying them.” And then, jokingly, I’d add, “or by a little girl knocking on our door and saying, ‘Will you be my mother?’”
And now here it was. No joke. This phone call out of the blue was as if someone were knocking on my door on behalf of a little girl, saying, “Will you be her mother?”
The little girl had been born the day after I returned from Asia. Her birth mother must have been in labor as I was flying away from Wen Qing and Qiu Ying, the little girls who reopened in my heart the yearning to adopt.
(to be continued)
Monday, November 2nd, 2009
Orphan Sunday, 11/8: What good will it do?
(Orphan Sunday, 11/8, makes me think of our adoption story, which begins here.)
Part 3
In October 1995 I visited friends in Asia. Later, I wrote about an one afternoon with them.
In the crib room of a government home, I see babies and toddlers who can’t toddle. One is hydrocephalic and can’t raise his head. One has frequent convulsions. A newborn is so frail, she probably won’t be here next week. Most lie lethargic. One child shrieks piercingly at intervals, and the others, hearing him, whimper.
I walk from crib to crib and lay a hand on one child and then another. I reach for bare skin – my palm resting on stiffened hair, with fingers caressing forehead or ear or nape of the neck. Tears fall from my eyes, and I pray. For peace for this moment and for God to give this little one happiness she can understand. Each falls silent as I touch her and pray. The room becomes peaceful.
In the midst of them is Wen Qing, a solemn old lady of a toddler, standing on the bare oilcloth of her crib, watching silently. She’s the size of a 9-month-old, but she’s probably 2 or 3. An older child gently lifts her over the crib rail and stands her on the floor.
Holding my finger, Wen Qing wobbles around on stiff, straight, unpracticed legs.
Why is she here? Because she’s a girl? The older child looks up at us, “This is a case to pity, isn’t it?” Wen Qing will remain in this crib room until she dies or is able to walk out and join the children in the next-older house.
The older girl is Qiu Ying – Autumn Hero.”What a handsome name! Were you born in the autumn?” She gives a one-sided smile,exasperated, sad smile:”How should I know?”
She’s 13, but looks 10, and walks bent forward because of a growth at the end of her spine. No one is sure what it is. Even if they did know, what could they do about it?
Qiu Ying shows us around the compound, which is neat and fairly well cared-for. Everyone here, from newborns to the very elderly, shares the same surname – Dang – which means “The Party”, telling the world that they have no mothers or fathers to give them a name, and so are wards of the state.
With Qiu Ying and Wen Qing lodging themselves in my heart, I think about adoption. “What good will it do in the midst of the orphan tragedy in this nation,” my American friend asks, “to remove just one or two children? And besides, the children in this small provincial institution are not registered for adoption, and maybe won’t ever be.”
We put Wen Qing back into her crib and Qiu Ying holds our hands as we walk toward the front gate. Just then, the porter runs past us, cradling a cardboard box found at the train station. A newborn lies swaddled inside.
“Will you be back?” Qui Ying asks.
I can’t bear to think or say no, and so I say, “I don’t know.”
In English she says what she must have heard from other visitors, “See – you – tomorrow.”
I have prayed and wept for Wen Qing and Qiu Ying, whom I may never again see on earth. My friends who live near the girls wrote me later. They had accompanied a surgeon when he visited, but Qiu Ying was too scared to let herself be examined. And they didn’t see Wen Qing in her crib. Perhaps she had walked to the next-older house. Perhaps.
I’ll try to explain next time how this story is somehow part of our adoption story.
(to be continued)
(Picture of the 2 little girls)
