A City on a Hill: Sharing the Heart of Adoption

We have been so far behind with our podcasting. Today, I am pleased to announce that finally a long awaited podcast is published! Thommie and Miki Hicks are adopting a little girl from Ethiopia, Africa. Like most adoptive families they were wondering how in the world they were going to afford this adoption. Through prayer and a car ride home one day Thommie found an answer. He wrote and produced a beautiful adoption song that is a blessing for anyone touched by adoption, particularly if you are in the midst of the waiting.
Enjoy the podcast and please visit the Adoption Song website to listen and purchase the song for your family!

www.adoptionsong.com

What do global warming and adoption have in common?

One of the heartbreaking memories I have from adopting our two sons from Vietnam was the memory of many little faces in the orphanage. How I wished that I could take them all home. What could I do for them?

In a very different scene, I am sitting in my living room with some friends talking about global warming. I heard of the possibility of extreme weather patterns like drought and flooding. The developed world has resources to cope with severe weather. The developing world, however, does not.

A drought could mean no harvest. Poverty is aggravated. Parents are faced with the heart-wrenching situation of being unable to feed their children. Other children may loose their parents to a flood. An unstable environment would result in more orphans.

How can we make a difference in these children’s lives? We could adopt a child. Or maybe ten children. But we can’t adopt them all. What about the rest of the children that remain in difficult circumstances?

I did some research and learned that the consumption of fossil fuels results in the production of carbon dioxide, CO2. These CO2 emissions lead to an increased green house effect. As sunlight warms the earth, the increased levels of CO2 increase the amount of heat that is retained in the earth’s atmosphere.

Fossil fuel consumption occurs not only when we drive our cars but also when we consume energy in the form of electricity and natural gas. These energy forms heat our homes and hot water and run our lights, refrigerators and ovens.

I came across a practical book entitled, You Can Prevent Global Warming (and save money), 51 Easy Ways. I was drawn to the book because it helps me to actually DO something about global warming instead of just being aware of it. As an added incentive, the book claims that I can save around $2000 annually if I implement their suggestions!

I started by transitioning our home to compact fluorescent light bulbs. The first bulb did not get great reviews by my family. But we have found that the soft white compact fluorescent light bulbs produce light similar to the traditional incandescent light bulbs but at about 25% of the energy consumption!

At work, I volunteered to lead our cardboard recycling program. Recycling consumes less energy than producing products from raw material. Less energy consumption means less global warming.

I’ve also attempted to change my driving habits. My children wanted to see Charlotte’s Web at the movie theater. I planned ahead and packed a lunch that we ate at the church after Sunday school and then we went straight to the theater instead of driving back home for lunch.

This weekend, I’m planning to insulate the hot water pipes in the basement to reduce the energy it takes to heat our water.

As with many things in life, global warming is not a black and white issue as one friend shared with me. Some claim that parts of the scientific community who dissent from the politically correct opinions are being silenced.

The fervency with which some speak of global warming may lead us to believe it is THE issue that faces the global community. However, the Copenhagen Consensus , a conference of experts that prioritizes the world’s biggest challenges, ranked climate change 27th while ranking communicable diseases first and sanitation and water second.

Realizing that there are different views on global warming took some of my initial enthusiasm away. But there does seem to be a growing consensus that humans are causing global warming. And I hope and pray that what I do here will somehow keep the our planet healthy and fruitful and to help other countries to put food on the table, especially the table at the orphanage. I remember the words of Jesus, “…whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.”

I’ll be thinking about that the next time I turn off the lights.

Written by: Phil Wong, husband of our frequent contributor, Kristin Wong. To learn more about the Wong family and thier adoption ministry visit their website Adoption-by-Grace.

It has come to our attention today that our password-protected feature is not working correctly. This feature is to provide children extra privacy on the Internet for a variety of reasons. To use this feature you simply have to be a basic user. It is not necessary for basic users to upgrade to a premium membership in order to request and receive a password. We apologize for the error and for the extra step that this will cause over the course of the next few days. If you would like more information about a child that is password protected please contact the listing agency. The agency information is located on the photolisting. We are working on this error and will have it fixed shortly so that the password will immediately be sent to your registered email address as intended. Thank you for your understanding!

I did not create this. I found it on a friend’s blogspot and it came to her through an email. I thought it was cute and worth sharing!

YOU KNOW YOU’RE AN ADOPTIVE PARENT IF…

1. The fact that there are 143 million children without a parent to kiss them goodnight has made you lose sleep.

2. You realize DNA has nothing to do with love & family.

3. You can’t watch Adoption Stories on TLC without sobbing.

4. The fact that, if 7% of Christians adopted 1 child there would be no orphans in the world, is convicting to you. (A pretty amazing statistic. Also, of 240,000 Americans inquiring about foster adoption this year, only about 10,000 will follow through and become adoptive parents. Data compiled by Listening to Parents)

5. You spend free time surfing blogs about families who’ve experienced the blessing of adoption.

6. It drives you crazy when people ask you about adopted child’s “real” parents.

7. You’ve been “pregnant” with your adoptive child longer than it takes an elephant to give birth.

8. You’d no idea how you’d afford to adopt, but stepped out in faith anyway, knowing He’d provide.

9. You’ve taken an airplane half-way around the world with a child you just met.

10. You believe God’s heart’s for adoption. See James 1:27 and Romans 8.

11. You realize that welcoming a child into your heart & family is one of the most important legacies you could ever leave on this earth.

12. You know what the word “Dossier” means & you can actually pronounce it correctly!

13. You’ve welcomed a social worker into the most private parts of your life.

14. You shudder when people say your child’s so lucky that you adopted them, knowing full well you’re the blessed one to have him or her in your life.

I think I could add to this list. Here is my addition:

You know you are an adoptive parent if…..

15. you are constantly asking the bookstores to carry a selection of children’s books that have stories where kids that look like yours are the hero’s.

16. when someone talks about addictions you quietly think in your head that have an addiction of your own- adoption!

Does anyone have something to add to the list?

Last Sunday, our pastor led us through a description of the very early church. These men, women and children had just watched Jesus crucified, resurrected and ascended to heaven. They were full of wonder and enthusiasm and zeal. They ate together in each other’s homes, every day. If anyone needed something, someone else sold off stuff to take care of it. They shared their possession and their lives. (Acts 2:42-47).
And what happened? Our pastor pointed out the radical nature of this band of Jesus-followers and how it turned its culture upside-down.

This small new religion, just by their sharing of meals and possessions, reversed the social and economic order of the day. In the Roman empire, large banquets were a way for a host to show where his guests ranked in the social hierarchy, displaying who was currently in the inner circle. These meals excluded people. But the church meals were inclusive, open to widows, orphans, and foreigners, the socially and economically marginalized groups. The church became a social and economic safely net for the poor. It was radical.

In the early church, God’s people became family to those who had no family. I think of the Roman practice when a baby was born. The baby was set at the feet of the father. If he picked up the child, the boy or girl was legitimized and became part of the family. Babies that were not picked up, perhaps because they looked weak, were outcast – often taken outside the city to designated places where they would die of exposure or from wild animals. The Christians reversed this horrible practice. They went out and brought the babies back, adopting them into their own families, and eventually putting pressure on the government to outlaw the practice.

Who needs a new family today? War refugees and children fleeing from those who would make them child soldiers. Big sisters trying to raise their younger siblings after their parents die of AIDS. Foster children longing for a permanent home. Women abandoned by men and left to make heart-wrenching decisions about their babies.

Can our churches weave these people into our families as exuberantly as the early church? Can we do it by sharing meals together in homes and selling our things to care for others? What keeps us from this?

A New Mission. Our life in Christ should overflow outward, forward, into the world. The early church became a new social order. It was joyous and inclusive. It was generous. People followed Christ in community. When we adopt children, we should not just be bringing them into our individual families, but into communities of celebrating people who enfold them into love and worship.

If we do, perhaps we will see God work as he did in this early church. They didn’t have their own buildings, but they enjoyed the favor of all the people and God added daily to their number those who were being saved.

Cities all across the Greco-Roman world had a taste of the eternal party that never ends. Let’s join in!

When I was in Ethiopia I met a young boy, 10 years old, who made an impression on me immediately. We spent time together laughing, talking, and once we even danced around a fire with handfuls of his peers. I remember looking at him with his smile glowing in the firelight and thinking that I would do anything to find him a family. My commitment was strong. I walked back from the party that evening to my little Ethiopian flat and emailed everyone I knew telling them about this child, pleading for a family for him.
Time went on. I returned home with my son. Right before Christmas a letter came all the way from Ethiopia. It was from this child, the one that I had in my own heart committed to not rest until he had a mom and a dad. I wrote him back. Time went on again. Another letter came in the middle of January. And, yesterday another letter came. My husband handed me the letter and it made my heart happy to see that he was still thinking of us.
He wrote in his letter about school, and his good memories of us. He wrote that even though his parents were dead he knew that God would take care of him because “God makes all things good.” But, it was the end of his letter that caught my attention most deeply.

“Please, do not forget about me.”

I thought for a moment. I wondered why he was saying this. I had written to him. He knew that I had not forgotten him. I sent him messages through other traveling parents. I sent him pictures and mementos. I had not forgotten him. Or, had I?

I would almost guarantee that if you look in your junior high school year book there will be silly notes written from friends that ask you to not forget. I have one in my yearbook that claims I am a best friend with a girl that I cannot even recall ever knowing. “BFF (for those of you that were not hip that stands for Best Friends Forever!) and never forget our fun times!” are written in bold script. What fun times? Who is this girl? The memories have long left my mind. Over this forgetfulness I feel no conviction. But, over this child and his memory there is conviction deep in my spirit.

I had not forgotten his name, or that we had a good relationship, or that I really liked him. I had not forgotten to write him. I had not forgotten to talk about him with my son. But, I did forget the longing in his eyes, the raw need for him to be embraced by a family, the way he so patiently waited for someone to step up and say to him that he was coming home with them. I did forget this. I let my commitment to him, even though it was never promised aloud, wane over time.

Through tears I looked up at my husband last night and asked him if we could adopt this child (who also has a sister). I do not know if we are going to honestly. I do not know what is going to happen. I know that we are scared about adopting again as we have absolutely no room in our finances for this now. I know that we are nervous about adopting two children who are older. I know that this does not fit into our plans and that the mere idea of all of this just sounds plain out nuts to both of us. But, more than that I know that sometimes that which seems absolutely nuts is what God is truly asking of us. Very few of the men and women that God used in the Bible had tasks to do that were easy breezy instead they were radical, risky, and required sacrifice. We are praying now and trying to not think like Americans, but rather asking God to help us think and see through his eyes.

In the meantime, I am vowing not to forget. Time and distance are no excuse. There is a child, a marvelous child and his sister, who need to know that they are loved. This type of love requires action. They need to be pursued and embraced and taken home.

If you have a child that you have forgotten, a face you saw that lit a spark in your spirit, please remember it. Don’t pen it down in the yearbook of your life and close the pages only to let is slip away. Do something. Be a little nuts.

God spoke clearly to us these words, this promise:

Never will I leave you. Never will I forsake you.

I think that he is speaking to us as a Father to his child, knowing that this will bring us deep comfort and hoping that we will follow his example to never forget the lonely.

Hebrews 13:5
Isaiah 58

Last Sunday, our church’s youth led us in worship. They sang Matt Maher’s, “Your Grace is Enough”, in which the second verse sings to God that, “You use the weak to lead the strong”. The weak who sprang into my mind as I sang were vulnerable, fatherless children. Do these weak children really lead us, we the strong, who sit comfortably with our homes and cars and computers, retirement funds and choices of what we want to eat each day?

The song brings me back to afternoons spent in Vietnamese orphanages. We spent several hours with small boys and girls who were eager for attention and love. They touched my heart and will not let it go. I see their faces when I sing on Sunday mornings. I have been changed by a few minutes playing with these weak children. I also call to mind what I have learned through my two sons, through their questions, vulnerabilities, ups and downs. My boys, and other orphans, have led me into impassioned prayer. They have helped me understand the compassion of Jesus and the righteous, indignant justice of the Father. Haven’t you, whether you have adopted, foster parented, visited orphanages, or cared for vulnerable children in other ways, all felt that you have been led by weak children? If we let them, these children will change our lives forever.

How is it that orphans lead us?

It’s not that orphans are idyllic angels, that we sit at their feet because of their moral, intellectual superiority. “God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things - and the things that are not – to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him.” (1 Cor 1:27-29). Who is more lowly and despised than orphans? These forgotten, left behind children are a window through which we can see God’s wondrous glory and salvation.

The strong systems of the world will bulldoze over orphans. Vulnerable children represent the opposite of man-centered empires. They show us the kingdom of God that turns our strength-exalting priorities upside down. They remind us of the topsy-turvy gospel that raises valleys and levels mountains. Orphans seem to have no power to influence great human empires. But Jesus quietly insists that we regard them. When we do, we remember the weak wisdom of the cross. The kingdom to which we belong is not built by the strongest and smartest among human cultures, but by the power of Christ, who died as a seemingly weak, lowly and despised man.

Where do orphans lead us?

To Jesus, our King and Captain and Leader, the one who became weak so that we through his poverty might become rich. He will not falter or become discouraged until he establishes justice on earth.

You use the weak to lead the strong. Great is your faithfulness!

This morning our family snuggled on the couch and watched the newly burned DVD that we created of our adoption journey. Picture after picture was a visual reminder of the road we had traveled and a flooding of memories came to all of us. Before our little guy came home a friend of mine turned me onto the concept of “babywearing”. She showed me different options for carrying your baby on your chest and back. I sat down and with help made my very own baby carrier called a mei-tai, which is an Asian style carrier. As silly as this sounds (and my husband can testify to this) before leaving for Ethiopia I spent an evening testing out my carrier by walking around with a teddy bear tied to my chest! I was eager for the closeness of my son, the nearness, the connection.
He settled into that carrier with great ease. We walked in circles for hours during the time that we were not permitted to the leave the compound. His little eyes could simply glance up and meet mine. His weight was even on my back and shoulders. I carried him on my chest and back all across Ethiopia. We walked, we hiked, we adventured, we worked, shopped, and lived connected together in that carrier. We had adventures that would not have been possible if he was not attached to me tightly as if he was a part of my own body. While we were gone my husband set up the baby stroller. Even though we are long home that stroller has been used twice. When we are heading somewhere we pack our carrier. My son knows where it hangs in our house and he has been known to bring it to one of us when he is itching to be up close to Mom or Dad. He is content to be on Daddy’s chest while he folds the laundry. They talk about the colors and match socks together. He is content to let me grocery shop as long as he has the view from my back. He often falls asleep to the movement of my gate. In Ethiopia the women carried their children on their back everywhere they went. It was necessary for work, survival, and transportation~ but it was oh so beautiful to see mother and child connected by a piece of fabric and going happily about their days. I miss this. It seems that so many of the things that are supposed to make our life easier and our children content actually take them further away from us, when perhaps what they really need is just to watch the world go by from the safety and security of their parents back. My son is 24 bulky pounds of wonderful curious boy. The mei-tai still holds up well, especially with the frequent use that it gets in our home. In Ethiopia we were forced to walk everywhere and I never had to look for a reason to strap my son in close to me and go. Now, where automobiles rule the road it is a bit more difficult to live that lifestyle. But we search for excuses often amid other chances to be close like reading, snuggles, and horseplay. If you are adopting a little one or toddler I would encourage you to do some reading about the concept of babywearing~ if for no other reason than bonding. We loved it for two months as we ventured through Ethiopia and traveled across the world. We still love it today on our walks, grocery runs, and just about any other time when there is work to be done that would seemingly take away our time together.

The love/hate relationship that I have with my old rusty Jeep took a sharp turn towards strong dislike today. My nineteen month old son and I were driving a fifty-six mile stretch across country highway, a route that is familiar to us. Our region of the map is experiencing some frigid weather right now with temperatures being in the negatives. The jeep has a soft top and leaks cold air like crazy. Normally, the heater is able to battle the weather and stay on the winning side. Not today. Heater or not, we were freezing. Cold air was flooding into the car. When we were passed by any other moving vehicle tiny bits of snow came sprinkling in making me have to actually wipe moisture off of my face as I drove. I pulled over and bundled my son up in his coat, my winter coat, a hat, a blanket and anything else I could find. He seemed content and toasty. I bought a cup of coffee simply for the warmth and after a short de-thawing in a Shell station we began our journey again. Now, I was really cold as my coat was bundled around the little man in the back seat. I stopped again and reached for the only thing I could find that seemed like it would help our situation out at all- a tarp. Here I stood outside of a gas station wrapping a tarp around my body as if it was a bath towel. People were looking at me and all I could think to say was, “How ya doing?”. They nodded awkwardly and moved on. It was a long cold drive, but we made it.
A few months after my son was home I began feeling anxiety. I was not sleeping well at night. I felt guilt anytime I was not giving my son all of my attention. I was confused about my philosophy of discipline. I felt exhausted, confused, and worn thin. I cried because I felt a sense of mourning for my old life, the freedom I used to have, and the memory of what it was like to not wear my heart outside my body. I cried because I felt guilty for even thinking those thoughts. I cried a lot because I felt so much pressure. I would look at my son and desire to fill him up with affection, attention, and affirmation but, although I loved him dearly, it felt forced. I went to the doctor. I finally broke down and told my husband. I called a dear friend. I prayed. My friend allowed me to sob on the phone. She said calmly, “This is a season.”
The miserable car ride home ended, we walked into our house and began to de-thaw. At naptime I tucked my little man into his bed. The anxiety, confusion, guilt, mourning were far from me. My son rolled over and smiled at me warming my heart through and through.
I left his room thinking of the car ride, the cold and winter, and how much I look forward to this season passing. It dawned on me that I made it through another season as well. For weeks I felt messages aimed like arrows at my heart telling me that I was failing as a mother. The truth is attachment, adjustment, and transition are all things that take time. I was forgetting this and allowing guilt to settle into my spirit. On the silly ride home just a few hours ago I ridiculously had to pull over and cover myself up in a tarp to protect me from the cold season outside. It was embarrassing to do this in front of others, but it was necessary at the time. Just the same when I feel a cold season approaching again on my motherhood journey I am going to ask the Lord to put a covering around my heart to keep messages of guilt and failure away. I am going to surround myself with friends, family, and those with wisdom who will not laugh at me, but will gently speak wisdom that the cold seasons will come and best of all, they will pass.

While we wait for our children to come home there are men and women who spend day and night caring for them. If the children are lucky they are taken care of in a place where, despite conditions of poverty, they are given ample attention, affection, and affirmation. Long before our son arrived home through the incredible miracle of adoption my husband and I would pray for the caretakers that loved him in our stead. Two years later I sat with these caretakers in a little room full of cooing, crying, and active babies. Older kids walked in and out, to and fro, acting as mini-momma’s and mini-dada’s to the tiny ones. There was constant hussle and bussle in the orphanage as children were fed, rocked and comforted. Beyond those basic needs was the exceptional, the extra mile stuff of loving caretakers who were combing hair, braiding, and back rubbing. There was ball playing, tag, and teaching moments. Children were invited to sit down next to the tired ladies as they tried to steal a moment for a cup of tea and biscuit. The older children shared inside jokes with thier caretakers. They looked to them for guidance and boundaries. In our stead they parent handfuls of children that are not their own, many of them going home then to parent thier own children as well.
Yesterday, we received news that one of my son’s Ethiopian caretakers died in a tragic car accident. I grew particularly close to her during my time in Ethiopia because she loved my son, this was apparent and for this I felt deep gratitude to her. On the Meskel holiday she sat down with me and taught me the inner workings of the Ethiopian coffee ceremony. I took pictures of her hands as they crushed the beans. My son stood next to her and she guided him as if she was passing down to him a tradition that would live on in his own life. I am struggeling today with her death, not only because she has a husband and children who will have a great void in her life, but because she was a women who loved on my son before I was able to. I will always have curiousities about the one who carried my son in her womb and may never know her story in entiritiy. But, I did come to know over coffee and diapers changes a women who stood in the middle and cared for my son while he mourned the loss of his birthmother and waited for my arms. Tonight, in our home we are celebrating Genet’s life and love with a traditional Ethiopian coffee ceremony. My son will stand by my side as he did hers and hopefully I will honor that which she taught me and pass this tradition onto my little Habishaw.
I urge you to consider and not forget about those that care for your children while they wait for you. Let us pray for them, show them our gratitute, and provide them with the support that they need to continue meeting the emotional and physical needs of the children.
Talk with your adoption agency and find out if you can help support the staff that make a great difference in the life and health of your children. Many agencies accept donations from thier parents to go towards providing caretakers and staff with Christmas Hams and gifts. Our adoption agencies happily allowed us to throw a small “Thank You” party for our son’s caretakers. These are women and men that, even for the smallest child, are an integral part of thier history.
Thank you, Genet for the love you lavished on my son. Pictures, stories, and lessons you taught will remain a piece of our family. Tonight we roast coffee, grind it slowly and firmly by hand, and brew it over the fire. We serve the coffee and drink together in honor of you and all of the other caretakers who love in our stead.

God be with your family and the children who will miss you greatly.