Do You Want...

All of us - well, okay, most of us - try to be relatively frugal most of the time... but don't you ever have days where you think, "Wow, it would be really cool if I could have a ___________!"  Because I know I do!  It would be really cool if I could have an iPad - or any sort of tablet-type gadget.  It would be really cool if an extra $50 or $100 dropped out of the sky for me to spend as I pleased.  Honestly, it would be really cool just to have a neat little trinket that makes me smile that I didn't have before - say, one of those things I pick up in the aisle at the store and then put back thinking, "I don't really NEED this."

So, what do you daydream about having?  Electronics?  Books?  Crafty stuff?  Gift certificates?  Something you can use to pay it forward?

Well, friends, I have good news for you.  I have a way for you to be frugal - more than frugal - generous... and still get a chance (a whole lot bigger than the one you have now!) of owning that 'whatever' that you want!  In fact, the only money you'll spend will be tax deductible donations (size is up to you) to go toward uniting orphans with their Forever Families.

The 2013 Mulligan Stew has arrived!

Do you want an iPad mini?  A Wii U deluxe set?  A Kindle Fire HD?

Do you want a $500 Visa gift card?  How about a Visa or store gift card of up to $100?

Or would you like to share the wealth even more and win the chance to give up to $250 to the Reece's Rainbow child/family of your choice?

And these are just a few of the amazing prizes available!

But the most amazing prize... is the one you get just by entering.  The opportunity to change the life of a child, a family, forever.  That prize is guaranteed when you enter.

For more details on how to enter, please check out the Mulligan Stew details here.  Earn extra entries by sharing!

Please?  It's my birthday tomorrow... do it for me?  And you never know... you could win big!

Adopted

This is by no means a new thought - in fact, the urge to write this post came to me after seeing someone else express a similar opinion tonight - but though it is not new, it bears repeating.

I am adopted.

No, I've never been in an orphanage, or even in foster care.  I went home from the hospital with the very same mother who gave birth to me, the very same mother who I've lived nearly 24 years of my life with.  I was not adopted by her, or even in this country.  In fact, you could perhaps call my adoption the ultimate international adoption.  I was adopted by someone out of this world.

As this Easter day comes to a close, I am reminded that centuries ago, when Christ died on the cross... it was my adoption that killed Him.  He gave His very life to bring me home.

Think about it.  In the act of adoption, a child who has somehow been deemed unworthy or too difficult to care for, is chosen by a parent who says "I will love this one.  I will bring her home.  I will be her family."  I, who am not worthy of His love or grace, who have sinned time and time again, have also been chosen by my Father in Heaven, who has said "I have made this one in my image.  I will give her love and grace."

When a parent sets out upon the journey of adoption, many sacrifices must be made.  Time and energy go into paperwork and homestudies.  Enormous sums are spent on agency fees, travel, various certificates and documentation, on and on.  The sacrifices start right away, and they never end - because we all know that being a parent certainly involves them!  And then I look to the greatest sacrifice in history - the one made by Christ for me... the sacrifice He made to adopt me.  He was beaten, mocked, ridiculed, tortured and crucified because He said YES to my adoption.

After all that sacrifice, all the struggles and pain and frustration and waiting, wishing, hoping, dreaming that is the adoption process, 'Gotcha Day' finally comes.  The day parent and child are united forever.  The day a child who was once cast aside by society, a person, a situation - is welcomed into a family for eternity.  This is a glorious day full of joy, a day when the fruits of that sacrifice begin to be seen.  I would argue that all of us who call ourselves Christians have a 'Gotcha Day'.  I remember mine clearly.  I've certainly considered myself a Christian my whole life, gone to church, read my Bible... but when I was 14, I went through my Confirmation ceremony.  That was the day I accepted Christ's adoption of me in front of my whole church.  In that moment I was filled with such a joy that I can not even describe... for that was the day I came home to Christ - my 'Gotcha Day'.

Then, when many people consider the adoption to be 'over', as a family settles in at home, the truly rewarding part of adoption comes.  Children who were ill, struggling, malnourished, unloved, alone, lacked proper care or treatment for their needs, are finally given what they need to flourish.  Remember little Katie?

 

Look at the truly unbelievable progress she's made in sixteen months!  And how about sweet Keith?

 

Home only 8 months and already such a transformation!  And countless similar stories, of children brought back from unthinkable circumstances and come to life... stories of redemption.  The same sort of redemption I will experience through Christ's love, through the grace He bestows upon me that absolves my unthinkable circumstances - my sins - and recalls me to life - true, eternal life.

I once read a quote that sticks with me, for I think perhaps no truer words have ever been spoken:  "My friends, adoption is redemption.  It's costly, exhausting, expensive, and outrageous.  Buying back lives costs so much.  When God set out to redeem us, it killed Him." ~Derek Loux

So yes.  I am adopted... and my adoption, yours too if you have chosen to accept Christ in your life, was the most costly of all.  On this Easter night, I simply want to say "Thanks" to the Father who adopted me, who gave His very life to redeem mine; "Thank you", to Christ whose resurrection we celebrate on this day.  I couldn't be more proud, or grateful, to have been adopted.

Touched

I've seen this happen before.  It's not a new thing to me.  But it struck me in a new kind of way tonight.  Touched me.

In the adoption community, somebody (sometimes it seems like *everybody*) is always fundraising.  Agency fees, deadlines, immigration expenses, travel, on and on, something new seems to be due all the time.  Adopting families literally have to fight tooth and nail to scrape together the ransom needed to collect their child(ren).  Not a day goes by that I don't see someone saying, "I hate to beg, but please... we travel soon and I'm worried we don't have the funds we need."  My heart goes out to every one of those families.  They have stepped out in faith that God will provide, they have sacrificed, scrimped, saved, scrounged, sold, crafted until their fingers (sometimes literally) bled... and then they've forced down their pride and asked for help.  With such a huge burden to shoulder, no one would blame them if they focused solely on their own needs until their kids were home...

But that's not what happens.

Instead, they make time between their desperate attempts to fund their own adoptions... to scream, shout from the rooftops, for other families in the adoption process.

Instead, they give - out of nothing - just to chip in a little bit to help a friend reach their goal and bring their child home.

Tonight I noticed one friend of mine on at least her third or fourth consecutive day, probably many more than that as I've had limited PC access lately, shouting for another family adopting from the same country as her children are in.  Listing items to sell or auction to raise money for that family, even as she struggles to fund her own.  That family is just short of funded for their first trip with travel dates in sight.  Both these families have children waiting in places that are beyond horrible.  Both these families need our help desperately.

Another day, I noticed a mom who just got home from a gotcha trip pledging money for a matching grant to another family who has yet to travel.  They have been encumbered with the many medical issues that come with bringing a neglected, malnourished child home from an orphanage, have barely had time to breathe, and yet, they're still turning around and giving more.

There are a few who haven't adopted yet... people like me, although mostly younger, which I find even more impressive... sometimes, young people not even out of high school... who save their babysitting money, make crafts to sell, ask for donations as Christmas gifts, blog, shout, scream, all to be able to give to 'the least of these'.  Teenagers, saving their money not for a designer bag or the newest iThing, but to redeem an orphan from a hell most of us can't imagine.  Putting the needs of others before their own, in an act of graciousness most people would think was beyond their years.

Then there are the families who, if possible, amaze me the most... I first came across this last summer when some friends of mine were traveling, spending over a month in a foreign country to adopt two orphans with special needs.  These friends are not the only people who fall into this category by far.  These families are on the ground, in country, right now... meeting their children for the first time, going to court hearings, securing legal documents, living in cramped apartments without many modern ameneties, dining on ramen noodles every night and praying to have the money to fly home... and STILL they give to families in need.  STILL they hear the cries of fast-approaching deadlines and unforseen circumstances, and step up to the plate, ready to help... ready to give even out of their own need.

How can I not be touched?

This is a kind of selflessness we rarely see anymore.  One that many people would have thought extinct.  But I know better, because I am part of an amazing group in which we see this kindness every day.  Seeing an adopting family cry out for another adopting family would probably break my bank account if I didn't give myself a budget... because it always makes me want to give to both families.

Sometimes I think, if we all took the time to learn a lesson from these amazing people whom I am so lucky to know, the world would be just a little bit brighter. 

If you, like me, are touched by the generosity of people giving something from nothing, I urge you to join them tonight.  I've known the place financially where I literally didn't have a single cent to my name, and if you're there, or if it's going to mean going without something you need to donate, please don't feel badly... but most of us have a little room to breathe.  I do, finally.  Give something, just a little something, to an adopting family, and help us all make the world a little brighter.

You can choose a family to 'sponsor' with a one time donation here.  Donate wherever your heart leads you.  Or, if like me, you need a little help (because you just want to give to everyone), I'll link a few specific families that are on my heart below.

The Unroe family

The Mitchell family

The Rosencrants family

Jack and Jensen

The Buhler family

The Roodhuyzen family

The Wingler family



And I'm going to have to stop myself there or I'll just list the entire 'Sponsor a family' page from Reece's Rainbow.  Instead I'm just going to leave this post open for anyone who is adopting or knows someone who is to link an FSP in the comments - so check there for links too!  Seriously, every one of these families is amazing and worthy, and you never know how even a small donation could make an expectant family's day.

Reality

I almost don't know how to put this into words.

Perhaps these will not be the right words, but I can't be silent any more than I could be silent when I first discovered the plight of orphans over a year ago.

Today I want to talk to you about something truly heartbreaking... something most of us in this country can't imagine.  

In this country, services are available to people with special needs.  Therapies.  Specialist doctors.  Adaptive equipment.  Public facilities are required to be accessible to people with every type of limitation.  Government assistance is available to aid families in obtaining the sometimes expensive treatment these children and adults require.  It is not always an easy system to access - playing phone tag, ferrying loved ones to and from appointments, arguing with officials... but it is something... though not perfect, the best system we've got.

In this country, if you receive a prenatal diagnosis that your child may have special needs, you have enough options to overwhelm you.  Sadly, most parents who receive a prenatal diagnosis like down syndrome choose abortion.  90%, in fact.  All those families that will never know the good that comes along with what at first seems like a bleak diagnosis.  For those parents who choose life for their child, or those parents who do not find out that their child has special needs until birth, there are yet more options.  Did you know that there is a waiting list of families who want to adopt a child with down syndrome?  And should you choose to parent your child, there are hospitals, special needs schools, equipment, therapies, all those things I referred to above, to help you and your child.

I know that it is still scary for most people to receive a prenatal diagnosis, or to find out after giving birth that their child has special needs.  You mourn the loss of the life you imagined for your child.  Regardless of what services and options are available, it is not what you expected... it is a great unknown, and we all fear the unknown.  I don't want to take away from the struggle families face in this country when they receive such news.  But I do want to open your eyes to another sort of struggle... one that we can't even imagine because the days of 'decisions' like this are, for the most part, long gone in this country.

Across the world in Eastern Europe, prenatal diagnoses are uncommon and many expectant mothers lack the resources to get proper prenatal care.  They spend nine months expecting and preparing for a baby... just like families in this country do... getting everything ready to bring their little one home.  They give birth, and sometimes, that is when their worlds fall apart.  That is when special needs, such as down syndrome or cerebral palsy or spina bifida are discovered.  That is when, in the face of mourning the life they expected for their child just as parents in this country do, they face an even more terrifying decision.

Because, in most of these countries, there is no social support system in place for families with children with special needs.  No therapies, no adaptive equipment, no government assistance, frequently not even physical accessibility!  Imagine giving birth to a child who may never walk when you live in a one bedroom, fifth floor apartment, accessible only by flight after flight of stairs, with no means to move elsewhere?  Imagine knowing that you must raise this child - do everything - on your own.  Imagine knowing that where you live, it is not a common thing to parent a child with special needs, and you would likely be shunned by society and even by your own friends and family.  Imagine knowing that if you struggle financially, which you will likely do without any social support systems to aid you in raising your child, you are on your own - left to ruin.

Doctors and nurses tell mothers of these special children that they cannot raise them, that the children will be better off in an institution with other children 'like that'.  They make families believe that the life their children will have in an institution will be better than any life they could possibly provide for their own child, when nothing could be further from the truth.  Parents in vulnerable emotional states are pushed to make life-altering decisions in the blink of an eye.  Often, they trust the doctors - they are doctors, after all... they must know what is best for a child 'like this'.  They give up their children.  They go home empty-handed, to a home prepared for a child who will never live there... and their children... they go to institutions which do little more than warehouse the mentally and physically disabled.

I could talk for hours on what conditions are like in these institutions, but I have done this before.  Right now I want to focus on those parents... the ones who had to make that heartwrenching decision... the ones who thought, who hoped they were doing the right thing for their child.  Most of them did not give up the child because they rejected him or her for having special needs... they are parents too, who love their children... parents who give them up in hopes of giving them a better life, or who are pressured and feel they have no option other than giving their children up.  It is the hardest thing most of them will ever do.  I place no blame upon the parent who chooses what she thinks, with the information she has, is the best option for her child and her family.  My heart aches for her... for her empty arms and her broken spirit.

Many of us ask, "If these parents love their children, why do they never visit them?"  Well, it is not simply that easy.  Often children are taken to institutions far from where their families live.  Travel is difficult and expensive, if not impossible.  Parents, who may have other children to provide for, have to work hard to make ends meet.  And even if we remove the logistical constraints, can you imagine going to visit the child that you gave up in hopes that he would have a better life... and seeing him like this?

...and not being able to do anything about it?

For many parents, it is just too painful.


They still want the best for their children.  Many of them hope that their children will be adopted internationally, taken to a place with greater resources where their needs will be met and they can grow up in a family.  In certain Eastern European countries, Reece's Rainbow is known by many birth parents, who, after making the heartbreaking decision to give up their child, beg for them to be listed on 'the rainbow' - so that a Canadian or American family might adopt them and give them the life that parent has always wanted for her child.  Some of them ask about their children after they are adopted.  Some of them even have contact with the families who adopt their children (this is generally at the discretion of the adoptive family, but I have seen it happen and I can only imagine how it must both soothe and wrench a mother's heart to see her child thriving in a family she could not provide).

Imagine going through the heartbreak of giving a child up, not knowing where she is or if she's being taken care of, and then finding out that she has, in fact, been adopted and is receiving not only the therapy and assistance she needs, but the love of a family.

My friends, adoption is redemption.  Of the child, this, we know.  We have seen children redeemed by adoption over and over.  But it is redemption for the broken-hearted families who give them up too.  It is the happy ending they dreamed of for their child... the one they couldn't provide... the one they were imagining when they made the devastating decision to give up their child.  It is a million times better than not knowing... or knowing the horrible truth.

Someday I hope and pray that there will be support in place for these families to keep their children.  I actively support organizations dedicated to this cause.  Until then though, we do the best we can with the system we have... and one thing is for sure.  Adoption is redemption.

For the video that inspired this blog post, please go here.  I know many of you will not watch it... because once you see, you can't un-see... but perhaps seeing is the push that we need to do something.

Please.  I'm begging you.  Do something.

Because this could so easily be the reality for people we all know and love.

Waiting

When my eyes were opened to the plight of special needs children around the world, I was 22 years old.  22 years and 8 months, precisely.  To be approved in the U.S. for international adoption, you must be at least 25, or married (I'm not).  Can you imagine how much that drove me crazy, having the will to go, but not being able to?  I pleaded for time to pass quickly... I counted the months... When I turned 23, I celebrated not because it was my birthday, but because I was just a little tangibly closer to that goal.

I'll be 24 in April.  14 months now, between me and 25.  I've come to realize that I may not be ready to adopt right at my 25th birthday - I'm still working on personal and financial stability and while I think I can come a  long way in the next year, perhaps not quite all the way... which is frustrating, but it's still my goal to adopt as soon as I can, and to meet that goal, I'm trying to get those things in order as quickly as I can.

I know what country I'd like to adopt from - it fits my needs perfectly.  I know I would like to adopt a child with down syndrome.  I know what I need to do to raise money.  I'm prepared to fill out the mounds of paperwork.  I just can't yet.

But days like today, it's hard to wait even another second.

Days when you see pictures like this:

Jocelyn

Jocelyn is six years old.  Look at her tiny wrists, the socks that barely stay on her feet... tiny girl.  Then look at her belly under her clothes... and for a minute... you might be deceived.  You might think, maybe she's not as desperately malnourished as you might think... but she is.  A certain type of malnutrition (kwashikor) causes a distended abdomen in its victims.  It's not because they have meat on their bones.  They don't.  It's because they are so terribly starved to have developed this dangerous condition.  This little girl needs a Mama, and a good doctor, ASAP.


What I wouldn't give to be able to go get her.  But I can't.

Can you?

And she's not the only one, either.  Look at them... all these children waiting, and only ONE obstacle that I can't overcome out of sheer will and determination, stands between me and them.

Micah

Marnie

Andrue

Madden

Kolya

Millie

And then there are all the ones I can't adopt... because the country requires a certain age difference between parent and child... like my sweet Brett...

But then I think - oh, this waiting is so hard for me...

...but imagine how hard it must be for them.

While I'm waiting, I'm sitting in a warm house, under an electric blanket, drinking Dr. Pepper, eating delicious pastries and listening to music.  Typing away at my laptop, the entire world at my fingertips.  While I'm waiting, I'm working at a job I love and that fulfills me.  I'm spending time with my family and friends.  I'm going outside, enjoying the sunshine, or staying inside and enjoying a bit of hibernation.  While I'm waiting, even when I get sick (like I did this past week), there are whole stores full of medicines I can buy to make me feel better - friends who are dictionaries of herbal remedies - a family who loves me and takes care of me - a warm bed to curl into until I feel better.

While they're waiting, they're lying in a cold crib, or bed, or wherever they've been plopped that day, or plopped themselves, if they can walk.  Lucky if they have a blanket at all.  Drinking thin soup or thick gray mush from a grated bottle.  Eating the same - maybe some bread soaked in water, if they're lucky.  Toys are scarce and it's survival of the fittest, so when you're small, or weak, or just not aggressive, there's not much to occupy your time.  They're rocking.  Biting their hands, grinding their teeth, pounding their heads against the bars of their cribs.  Staring at the same surroundings every single day, in and out... for years.  When they get sick, they are isolated, and the mind-numbing boredom combined with pain becomes absolutely excruciating.  "Feeling better" is not even a concept that applies to them... how can you feel better when hunger is gnawing at your stomach 24/7, every day of your life?

And I only have to wait 14 months.  The YOUNGEST of these children has been waiting nearly two years already - and the adoption process will likely take another year.  And dear Brett... who sadly, I can never adopt, unless his country's laws change (which is doubtful - and I don't want him to wait that long anyways)... he has been living that reality for ELEVEN LONG YEARS.  YEARS.  YEARS of what I just described to you.  No one to love on him.  No one to call Mama.

Just thinking about the waiting they face... makes my wait all the harder.  Because I'm a fixer, and I want to fix that for them.  But I can't right now... not even for one of them.  That breaks my heart.

What about you?  Are you waiting too?  Waiting on what?  Is it insurmountable... or is it... maybe, time to stop waiting and start fighting?

Did you see your child here today?

What about here?

Long and Winding Road

I think I was born with my goal in life already in my head.

I called those little guys "lumpies".  They were my version of baby dolls... my 'children'... there were 27 of them.  Can you say foreshadowing?

Before I was even conscious of it, my heart knew my goal.

Help children.

I never knew what shape this would take.  For a long time, I thought I'd just grow up and be a Mommy, like most little girls expect to.  I even went through a phase (starting at the ripe old age of ten) where I became convinced, regularly, that I had somehow immaculately conceived and was going to have a baby.  You know the plastic baby doll that cries project that everyone did in middle school?

Pardon the flash - it was in a photo album

Yeah.  Aced it.

In high school, after watching an episode of 7th Heaven (I know, I know) I started feeling called to children who had difficult pasts... abuse, neglect, foster care... I used to ride my bike around the neighborhood, praying, saying, "God, I know my child is out there somewhere... I know she is... and she needs me, and I need her... please bring her to me..."

Ironically, that was Fall 2003.  Indeed, my child was out there.

When I started taking care of M and A, it cemented in my mind that I wanted to do foster care someday... to help families and children who were in rough spots, to be there for them.  I held so tightly to this goal that I literally cleaned our house from top to bottom, just 'in case' God decided to send a child our way early.  At 18 I was diagnosed with endometriosis, and the dream of being a mother became a little more complicated - the way I'd originally intended to set about doing it may not work for me.

I went to college majoring in education.  I was particularly interested in being an intervention specialist.  Unfortunately, the red tape associated with our educational system today discouraged me and I changed my major... to health education, so I could work with families to keep their children safe in the car through public health, like I already did as a volunteer CPST.  Children - the one thing about the equation that never changed.

I graduated with a degree in public health and was interning at the health department, working in the injury prevention department with a variety of responsibilities, all of which involved children somehow.  I thought this was it - this was how I'd go about my life goal of helping children... keeping them safe... and I'd try to have a biological child and I'd do foster and adopt from foster care... I had it all planned out.

Then I lost my job, and a number of other things in my life came crashing down, I got more bad news about my endometriosis, and I sunk into a depression...

Until, as most of you probably know, I saw this picture:

9 year old Katie Musser on her way home from the hospital after escaping Pleven

And in nine days, God renewed my life's mission and lit a new fire inside me to pursue it.

At first, when I felt Him tap, tap, tapping on my shoulder, I fought it.

"No.  That's not for me.  I can't do that."

"I'll help some other way.  I'll adopt kids in the US.  International Adoption is not for me."

"I can't do this.  I want to, but I just can't and I know it."

"Okay God, if you want me to do this, you have to give me the tools to do it."

Then...

"Sigh... I'm adopting a child with special needs from Eastern Europe, aren't I?"

Then I didn't sleep for two months.  Constantly trying to find a way to help now, while I waited to be eligible for international adoption, while I was unemployed and broke.  That's when I started advocating.  That's when I found myself again.

Now, a year later, I can hardly believe the place it led me to.  I still have endometriosis.  I still don't know the future of my childbearing abilities.  I've been through a living nightmare with one of my dear borrowed kids.  It hasn't been easy.  But now I have a wonderful job working with children with special needs, which I love, and which is preparing me in some ways (not all obviously - things are always different when they're you're own children) for my own adoption journey.  Now I've continued advocating, been a part of raising money for two boys through Angel Tree this year, shared these kids' stories with everyone I could, met so many truly amazing people, and I know where I want to go from here.

That's not to say God couldn't redirect me in some way, as He has done so many times before, but if history serves as evidence (and I believe it does), the ultimate goal is not going to change...

Help children.

I never could have guessed, at ten, when I was dreaming of being a Mommy, that this is where my love for children would lead me.  I had grand expectations for my life.  But God had grander ones.  My favorite movie is A Walk To Remember - and there's this one quote that has always stuck with me... "Maybe God had a bigger plan for me than I had for myself..." - and indeed He did.  They say that when a door closes, sometimes we stare so long at that closed door that we miss the new one that opens.  I spent years of my life doing that... but I feel like I have finally turned around and seen the open door.  My diagnosis and possible fertility issues are no longer the downfall of my dreams... I have seen a greater purpose.

Now I trust.  I trust that when I look at that closed door, I know I'm just waiting for another one, filled with untold treasures, to open.  I have faith.

And that makes all the difference.

Going Back for More

Back when my other blog was my only blog, I'm sure I shared this picture with you:

This is Keith.  Well.  That was Keith.  You might remember that he was in a bad place.  A place where no child should be.  A place where, at four years old, he weighed only 12 pounds.  A place where he was alone all the time, lying unstimulated in a crib.

Then my friend Amanda Unroe said 'Yes' to Keith... and to four other children in the same country.  Yes, you read that right.  Amanda, who admits she's probably not entirely sane (but in the best way), brought five children with down syndrome home at once.  And she did it like a rockstar too.  Keith and his brother and sisters have been home for six months now.  Look at that little twelve pound 'baby' now...

Check out all that hair, the little bit of chub on his hand... the light that shines in him... having a family has brought him to life!  He escaped that place where no child should be, and now he gets to be part of one of the most amazing families I know.  The Unroes currently have eighteen children, and they love and treasure every single one of them.  In fact, Amanda may be the most fun mom ever - she lets them have indoor snowball fights!  When I heard that, I volunteered to be adopted next!

I think it's safe to say that these five 'orphans no more' have a lot of happy memories ahead of them...

The first of many *adorable* Christmases in a family!

But, my friend Amanda, as you can probably guess, loves kids.  Imagine a person like her going into the place Keith was, the sort of place you don't even want to imagine one child in, and knowing - seeing - that there are hundreds of them there.  A few of them have families coming for them... but what of the others?  Imagine coming home, seeing this beautiful child come to life, and then seeing more children who have suffered far too much for their short lives listed for adoption... and no one stepping forward for them.  Imagine knowing that for the ones you brought home, there are dozens more left behind.

Someone like Amanda experiences that and thinks 'I have more love to give.'  Bringing home children doesn't divide the love - it multiplies it.

So she committed to three more children in a terrible place.  Three more children who desperately need to come home... less than six months after getting home with these five.  And by the way, I have no doubt she's going to absolutely rock it with three more too.  The first year I did Vacation Bible School, there were 31 kids in my class, and myself and two other teachers.  I was fourteen.  I remember my mom saying to me that night, "Crazy, huh?" and I replied "I like this kind of crazy.  It works well for me."  That's the kind of person Amanda is.  Even though most of us can't imagine how we'd handle 21 kids, she handles 18 like a rockstar, and she'll do the same when the other three are home.  Everybody has rough days, sure, but for the most part, it sounds like a lot of fun to live in that house!

Meet the kids who will join the Unroe family this year.

"Presley" will be named Charity.

"Carson" will be named Johnathan.

"Thad" will be named Matthew.

Do you want to guess how old they are?  I'll bet you'd never have guessed that Keith was four in that first picture, five now, would you?  How about these little ones?

Charity is three.  She has autism.

Johnathan is six.  He has hydrocephalus, treated with a shunt.

Matthew is nine.  He suffered a severe brain injury from abuse by his birth parents.  He has been neglected so severely that he weighs only 18 pounds and his legs are contracted at the knee.  He needs to come home yesterday.

The family is currently working to update their homestudy, working on the dossier (paperwork) that needs to be sent to the kids' country and translated for their government, and filing paperwork with Reece's Rainbow to be eligible for the Family Sponsorship Program (FSP).  Once that paperwork is done you will be able to make tax deductible donations to them through Reece's Rainbow.  For now though, funds are still desperately needed.  They have a number of auctions and buy-it-now sales going on continuously on facebook, are participating in programs that will share portions of the proceeds with their adoption fund, and knowing Amanda, will be having any number of other fundraisers until these three finally touch American soil.  But right now, the biggest obstacle for them is money.  Every next step takes money.  Agency fees, getting documents in order to send to the government, filing them, paying the homestudy agency, I don't think I could accurately list everything if I tried, having never adopted myself, but since they went through this process already last year, they know what they're doing and have gotten everything together as fast as they could - and a lot of it is done - but now they need the money to move forward.

Look at him.  He is nine years old.  Matthew desperately needs the kind of love and care a family provide - the kind that transformed Keith from a crib-bound infant to a busy toddler on the verge of walking independently.

Money cannot be what stands between this little boy - or his brother and sister - and the care they need and deserve.  There is no time to waste.  They've waited years.  They shouldn't have to wait one more day than absolutely necessary.

Many of us have tax refunds coming this time of year.  I think I know where the Unroes' is going.  Lots of people plan vacations or buy themselves shiny new things with their tax refunds, and that's fine - you earned that money, you deserve it - but could you spare just a little bit to help bring these kids home?  $20, out of the whole amount?  Would that be too much to ask?  Too little, perhaps?  If I spent my money the way I really wanted to, they and a few other families would be getting my whole paychecks and I'd be living on chicken nuggets indefinitely.  Most of you know that I only just got a full time job - what I made last year was independent and won't earn me a refund.  Nevertheless, I'll pledge $20 from my next paycheck to the Unroes.  Would you be willing to match me?  And if you can't afford $20, how about $10?  Would you give up pizza night this week to help bring Matthew and the others home?  How about $5?  From what I understand, that's about one cup of coffee at Starbucks.  Brew your coffee at home one day, please, and help me bless this family?  You won't regret being a part of making a difference in the lives of these kids and indeed, their entire beautiful family.

Donations can be made via paypal to unroerescare@yahoo.com, or on their blog linked below.  There is a "Chip-In" on the upper right hand side of the blog where you can donate - Chip-In is down while I'm writing this so you can use the paypal address as an alternative, but the Chip-In should be back up soon.

And if you want to learn more about my friend's amazing family, please check out their blog (full of cute pictures too!).  A mutual friend, Michelle (who is adopting Carolina and could also use both prayers and funds - we are trying to arrange a local benefit for their adoption as they live relatively near me, so if anyone local can help us find a place to do that I would love to hear from you!) also wrote a beautiful post about them this week that you can read here.  In fact, please do read it.  She writes much more eloquently than I do... and she can tell you more about Matthew's story.

Friends... I know we're not all called to adopt.  I know we're not all called to have 21 kids.  We're not even all called to write blogs and fundraise for orphans.  But we're all commanded to CARE for orphans.  Here is a family who has done wonderful things (all but one of their children are adopted, by the way), and you have the chance to help them, to be a part of that.  I'm blessed to have been even a small part of it.  Don't let another day go by missing out on that.  Match my pledge... or exceed it... or just give what you can... say a prayer... offer an encouraging word on their blog... do anything except nothing.

 

They're counting on you.