Rwanda Rewind: Ethiopia

(yay! Ethiopia!)

We arrived in Ethiopia half-asleep early Saturday morning. We loaded all the families' stuff on the tops of several vans and headed to the guest house. There we happily discovered that we had been assigned to room with our dear friends the Stengels. Laina and Addy spent happy hours rolling on the floor together,

and Adrienne, Dillion, Jeremy and I hung out and talked most evenings after the girls were asleep. What a blessing they were to us during the last, long days away from home.

(the Stengels being stalked by a lion at the Lion Zoo--our last day in ET)

After dropping off our stuff, we all went to the kids' medical appointments, where we sat outside in the African sun (it was surprisingly pleasant out!) and tried not to fall asleep while waiting for our babies' names to be called. The doctors weighed and measured Laina (15 lbs! A whole pound gained since the hospital!), and asked us a few questions about her development. They checked her vaccination record. Done. They would deliver the report to the Embassy later on in the week, and we'd proceed to get the visa and go home.

We went to lunch at a place called Amsterdam. It was pretty good, and the restaurant was very interesting (inside, outside, tents, roofs, second story dining, patio dining). Then we tried to stay awake until a reasonable bedtime could be had.

(every time I tried to get a picture of Addy, Laina tried to steal the spotlight)

Sunday morning, we went to church. Although I missed most of the message (out in the lobby with a fussy baby, along with at least one parent/baby set from most of the families traveling with us), I did get to sing "Might to Save" and "The Stand" while holding my baby girl. Those two songs were special to me throughout the waiting time. So many times I sang them and thought about my daughter, and now, I was standing in Africa singing them with her in my arms. Thank You Jesus for that special gift.

After church, we went to a restaurant called Lucy something-or-other, which is connected to the museum that houses the Lucy remains. Laina choked during lunch, making my heart stop, and right when I finally got the tiny pieces of bread out of her mouth and she breathed again, a man in a suit who had apparently been making his way over to us when he saw what was happening, put his hand on my shoulder and said, "in Jesus name!" And then he picked up her bottle and stuck it in her mouth, telling me to give her a drink.

When lunch was done, we headed to the Lucy museum. My nerdy anthropological self was delighted.

We saw all the archaeological stuff (Ethiopia is home to a lot!), and then some historical artifacts, and some beautiful artwork (a lot of which was political in nature. So interesting!) I loved it. Especially because our contact in ET was incredibly knowledgeable about ET history and culture, and how it as a country fits into the world today, and where it is possibly heading in the future. Did I mention I love this stuff? One of the most interesting facts we learned is that Ethiopia uses a different calendar than much of the world. So while we were in Ethiopia, we were in the year 2003. Time-telling is different too, but I can't remember exactly how, except that it makes a lot more sense than our way. We also talked about communism, conservation, culture, and the Nile River.

(there she is: Lucy)

(isn't that beautiful? Thanks to the Stengels for these pictures!)

Much of our time in Ethiopia is mixed up to me. We went to the Embassy a few times. We prayed that a certain item of paperwork that they were giving us trouble about would be accepted. It was. We took visa photos of the kids in a really hot room (all of us in there at one time, plopping babies down assembly-line style with the photographer snapping away). We encountered much more visible poverty than we had seen in Rwanda, and we had our hearts broken. But there was a strength in Ethiopia, too. And there was beauty.

We planned and celebrated a surprise second birthday party for Avivah McLennan (Adrienne and I were proud of ourselves for finding presents, a banner, and a party hat!).

We wandered up to the rooftop of our building and watched the Father paint the sky.

We took in the sights and smells of Ethiopia as well as we could in such a short time. It got under my skin, that's for sure. I was fascinated by this country and her proud people. And by the mannequins that were held in place by nooses around their necks. They were all looking in the same direction off to the side and I knew that any moment they were all going to simultaneously turn their heads and look the other direction. With their nooses. Creepy. But I digress. Here are some cows!

And we took a group picture.

On Wednesday morning, we had our visa appointments. We heard that there was a strong possibility that we'd be getting our visa that day. After some discussion and prayers, we and one other family decided to try to leave that night. Yes, we booked our tickets home before we had the visas in hand. After some more drama and craziness, it appeared that it just might work.

We were going home! We had to get back to the hotel and pack, but we had wanted to see the Lion Zoo before we left. With only a few hours before our flight, we decided to throw caution to the wind.

We went to the Lion Zoo.

(look at this one closely. That baboon is yawning and you can see his fierce teeth!)

It was small and the animals were in small cages. They were up close and personal though! People were feeding candy to the baboon. And the flowers were gorgeous!

After the zoo, we headed back to the guest house. We packed and took quick showers. Laina and Avivah got their pictures taken in their matching dresses (Alison and I got them independently of each other).

(do I see a best friendship in the making?)

We were really going home! I couldn't believe it. We missed the boys so much, and we were going to see them soon. I think if we had had them with us in Africa, I would have been happy to stay much longer, but as it was, I was anxious to see my people. But amid the joy, there was sorrow too. We had to say our goodbyes to the people who walked this road with us. The two families leaving that night were the first two to go. It was the beginning of us all going our different ways, after having shared some of the most difficult and wonderful moments of the adoption journey with each other. I was sad to leave them, and sad to leave Africa. But it was time, after over three weeks, to go.

Fourth of July--Laina's First!

We celebrated the Fourth of July this year by going to the Marietta Parade. As parades go, it was kind of lame. Mostly it was businesses who rode in cars and waved out their windows. Not many floats or marching bands. Our favorite part was the Cobb County librarians who pushed decorated library carts in front of them and spun them in unison. They were funny. And yes, we are nerds.

Iain LOVED the parade. Jeremy said that that boy belongs in parades, and he's right. Iain waved his flag, yelled, "Happy Fourth of July!" and jumped around to his heart's content.

Cory watched and wilted in the heat.

Laina was very interested in the goings-on. She didn't mind the loud music or sirens, but she hated it when the motorcycles revved their engines. She dove into me and hid every time.

My cousin Cassie was staying with us for a few days and came too--she and I hit up the QT for the 59 cent sodas before hand, so we were good. :)

We tried to get some good family pictures. We got some family pictures:

Then we headed home to cool off and make some pinwheels, and build with blocks.

sweetest smile ever!

Iain drew a soldier fighting for our country. Then he made his pirate face for the photo.

He drew Superman too, which I loved. Look at his cape and his S! :)

Cory was very proud of his tower.

The Burtons came over for dinner and Jeremy cooked out. We didn't do fireworks (they didn't start until 9pm), but we were treated to quite a storm and lightning show. All in all, it was a fun day, and made sweeter by the fact that our youngest is a new American citizen and that this was our first holiday to celebrate with her.

July 4th is also Rwanda's Liberation Day, the day the Rwandan Patriotic Front entered Kigali and brought the 1994 genocide to an end. So it's a doubly important day around our house.

Happy Independence Day, America! Happy Liberation Day, Rwanda!

Book Review - Uncle Sam's Plantation by Star Parker

From the title alone, you could surmise that this book has some incendiary ideas and opinions, and you would be right. Uncle Sam's Plantation is a no-nonsense, very conservative look at poverty in America and how the government has responded and is currently responding. The author, Star Parker, pulls no punches in dissecting the welfare system, the reasons for poverty, and how much of the government's actions designed to help the poor are actually hurting them. She tackles issues such as minimum wage, abortion, welfare, and education. Phew! While Parker comes down hard on politicians who don't use common sense, and on those people who work the welfare system because they don't want to get jobs (especially men who mooch off women), her tone changes when she speaks of the poor who need help. She is compassionate and concerned. And she has a great deal of common sense and economic smarts that make her ideas seem doable. Parker talks a lot about personal responsibility, which is a refreshing topic in an age where victim mentality reigns. She has faith that, given the proper tools (including education, religious training and the knowledge of right, wrong and consequences) most people will become decent, productive people.

Star Parker is a black woman who worked her way off welfare after being challenged to do so by her pastor. As a young girl, she was told that she couldn't do certain things (have a good job, make money, etc) because the whites would always keep her down. She proved the naysayers (including her former self) wrong. She is an American success story, and now she is a spokesperson for issues of race and poverty. Her story is inspiring.

I enjoyed the first half of the book most. The chapters where she delves into the history of America (in regards to race and poverty) are fascinating. I would use those parts of the book to round out a course in American History for high schoolers. Eventually, though, when I had read past Parker's personal story, the historical accounts, and the parts where she talks about the different kinds of "poor," reading the book felt like listening to a LOT of conservative talk radio: you know they're right on a lot of stuff, but there's only so long you can listen. I was relived to find myself at the end of the book.

Also, it seemed like Parker spent all her time laying out the problems facing America, and no time offering solutions. Maybe the solution lies in getting her message out to many people? But it seems to me that giving specific actions that everyday people can do to help the poor, to fight Big Government, to make our voices heard on issues of abortion, education, etc, would have strengthened the book a good deal.

There was also the weird part where she repeated, word for word, two and a half pages of text a few chapters later. Was that intentional? :)

Overall, this was a good but exhausting read. I think I would have liked it better if it were shorter. But maybe that's because, as a mother of three small children, I hear a good deal of fussing as it is. Even when the fussing is completely legitimate, it does where on you after a while. Parker's personal story, and the history sections make it worthwhile though. For those sections, I will keep this book around.

Note: Booksneeze has provided me with a complementary copy of this book in exchange for a review. The opinions I have expressed are my own.

We Don't Love Walmart

Iain: Why did they say Live Better at Walmart?

Me: Because they were advertising. They want you to think your life will be better if you shop at Walmart. Is that true?

Iain: No!

Me: A store can't make you happy. What things make you happy?

Iain: Playing at home! Doing crafts! Running! Making handprints! Making key chains!

Me: Jesus gives us good things.

Iain: Walmart can't give us that!

Amen. :)

Adoption: Plan A? B?

One of the things we really liked about the agency we're using is that they repeatedly declare that adoption is not God's Plan B. And in a way that we cannot understand, it's not. And now things start to get a little Calvanistic: If it's God's Plan A, does that mean that the negative things that likely happened in the birth mother's life to lead to this child being available for adoption - were those things part of His plan? Or if they were not part of His plan, then how is adoption not Plan B? I mean, you could ask this question about any number of events that happen in this sin-sick world, and I don't know the answers. But I do know this: however we got to this point, there is a little girl right now in Rwanda (or maybe yet unborn), and she is meant to be ours. And her birth mother? I don't know.  I hope with my whole heart, and I pray often, that this woman who is so unknown and so very connected to us knows Him. That she belongs to Him. That someday in Heaven, I will meet her and hug her and thank her and introduce her to her - my - our child. But I don't know if that will happen or not. Perhaps the situation that brought or is bringing her to choose adoption for her child is just bad in every way. But even then, He can redeem it. This boggles my mind.

As I've researched and read about adoption, from the American perspective mostly, two extremes have emerged, two attitudes about adoption. The first is that adoption is Plan B. That people who have adopted are to be pitied because somehow they never would have chosen this path for their family unless they had to. This may be true of some people, but certainly not all. More and more families that I am seeing are adopting because they want to add to their family specifically through adoption. They may already have biological kids; they may not. But they know that adoption is part of the plan. And so they pursue it. And for the families that do choose adoption as a last resort: is pity the right response? How about joy that they now have a baby in their arms and joy that the baby has a loving family? This is not to disregard the grieving process that must happen for the couple if their dream to physically bear children will never be realized. But can we not grieve with them in that area of life, and rejoice with them that their dream of having a child has come true?

The other extreme is, I think, a backlash against the Plan B people. Some people are so into adoption that it becomes almost a badge of honor. If you've been around some big-family-no-matter-what people, you may have seen something similar. It becomes a source of pride (and not in a good way). Adoption becomes so PLAN A that biological children are seen as selfish or irresponsible. People like this say that you can't be pro-life unless you've adopted. Or they get so defensive about adoption that you stumble over your words because if you say them wrong, these people will think you're against adoption somehow.

How about we land in the middle? Being pregnant and bearing a child is amazing. Adopting a child is amazing. Adoption is certainly not Plan B, but neither is biology. The range of emotions that pregnancy and birth bring to you is unparalleled by anything except adoption. And some of the emotions are the same, but I would say that mostly they differ. Adopting is different and wonderful and difficult and intense. The two are different, but both are important and God-given ways of building a family.

Adoption is The Plan.

I must say, I sure don't miss the morning sickness, though.

Sacred Dreams?

I watched a short You Tube video yesterday morning, and it got me thinking. (Warning: I'm about to get on my soapbox and the air is a little thin up here!) The video, which you can see here, is about a family who moved 13 years ago to The Middle of Nowhere, New Zealand, to live in the bush. Although the clip is supposed to be telling you about their lives and their choices, it is oh so clear that the thinly-veiled agenda is to put these unusual people on exhibit for the shock value and "foolishness" of their lifestyle, and to cause the viewers to be appalled that they would force this life on their two kids.

Now, the kids like their life. They make that clear repeatedly. And they do have plans to try living "in villages." But for now, they're content. And they are still kids: ages 16 and 13. Really, should we be encouraging them to leave home and strike out for town just yet? The parents seem to have no problems with the idea that the kids will eventually leave, if they eventually leave.

I'm not going to get into the rightness or wrongness of their decision to live in the bush. What I want to harp on - ahem, write about - is one thing the journalist kept coming back to again and again: the son, age 16, used to want to be a sports player.

See, he used to want to play rugby. But he was obviously never on a team (being that he lived in the bush and all). He said it was impractical. And now he doesn't want to play rugby. He's into trout fishing and possum trapping. Move on. But the journalist can't seem to get over the fact that he can't do the thing he originally wanted to do. That WAS his dream, and dreams, after all, are sacred, right?

Lots of kids want to be sports players when they grow up. Only a few do it professionally. Does that mean that somehow the parents of the kids who don't make it stunted their growth? Didn't encourage them enough? Didn't make their dreams come true? Or could it be that maybe most of the kids are just not talented enough at playing sports to go pro?

GASP! My little Bobby isn't good enough? He can be whatever he wants to be!

Well, no. Not really.

When I was a kid, during the summer Olympics, I decided I wanted to be a gymnast. It was the year that the women's team won the gold, with the one girl landing her vault on a broken ankle. I mean really, how cool is that? But I was in gymnastics when I was little, and I pretty much stunk at it. I was too tall and uncoordinated and unwilling to hurt myself by flinging myself willy-nilly all over that very narrow balance beam. I could do a passable back handspring, and to me, that was acheivement enough.

May I postulate that telling kids that they can do anything and be anything is wrong on a few counts?
1. It wastes their precious time. Why should they believe that if they put in hours and hours of work, it will eventually pay off, when in reality it may not? Note that I am NOT talking about doing something for an alternative reason: to be active and healthy, to establish teamwork skills, for sheer enjoyment. But to do something because you believe it will make you an expert at it when in reality you have no talent for it at all? Waste of time.

2. It degrades the talents they have. By elevating talents they don't have, you're not helping them cultivate the gifts God has given them, gifts which may in fact bring them greater fulfillment because they are ways the child is meant to use his time and energy.

3. It puts too much pressure on the child to succeed.

4. It teaches that to do something simply because you enjoy it, and not to be the best, is somehow not good enough reason. If I love to play piano, I should play piano and worship the Lord through my enjoyment of music, which He made, after all. I should not feel that because I am not the best, or even an excellent piano player, I shouldn't take the time to play.

Of course, this is not to say that striving for excellence is not a worthy pursuit. But telling a child that they can be the best when they simply can't is cruel.

5. Maybe it gives kids too many options. How often do you hear from high schoolers that they just don't know what to do with their lives? Could this be because no one ever helped them discover what they are good at. It's harder to decide what you want to do if it's based purely on what you like to do. But it might be an easier decision if they have spent time in childhood and teenage-hood discovering their gifts, and seeing what they are passionate about AND good at.

Maybe the kid in the video clip would have been a top-notch rugby player. Who knows? But I guess my point is that not every dream will come true, nor should they all.

And also, just because little Bobby wants to do thing A doesn't mean he necessarily should. The dreams of an individual must at times take a backseat to something bigger. In America, we sometimes mistake the right to the pursuit of happiness with the right to happiness itself. So the right to pursue a dream? Sure. If Little Bobby is serious about wanting to play rugby, let him figure out a way to make it work. But the right to rugby lessons, just because he wants them? I don't think so.

Okay, enough nonsense. This post has been written over the span of several days, and I think I forgot what I had originally wanted to say. So don't shoot me. But do let me know what you think!

Because I don't remember what I think anymore. It's been a long week.

Further Up and Further In!

(If you are getting this information twice - sorry about that!)

We just wanted to let you know the latest development in our lives: we're moving! (How many of you thought this was a we're-having-a-baby post?)

Here's the story: A few weeks ago (was it really only a few weeks?), I was looking at websites for churches from the Acts 29 Network. (Go here for more information about Acts 29) I found a church plant and it looked interesting. The church is quite young (under a year old officially), meeting in an elementary school, and has a vision to reach its city and the counties that surround it with the Gospel. The more we poked around on the church's website, the more intrigued we became. The purpose and vision of the church meshes so well with who we believe we as a family are called to be, and what we believe churches should be doing.

We've prayed and talked a lot, and then last weekend, we made a trip up there to go to the church and look at some real estate. The church was exceptional. We spent some good time with the pastor and others who are in leadership there, and we also had a meal with the congregation and got to see how their part of the Body of Christ works. Not only do we see this church as a good place to raise our family, but we are especially excited about the ways that we can help this church grow. We're looking forward to being a part of what God is doing at the church and in the city. We feel called to this.

The town we'll be living in is about half an hour to a big city, which means it has a small-town feel but with big-city proximity. As some of you know, our original plan was to eventually move somewhere in the country where we could have some land for our boys to run and play in. Recently Jeremy and I have both been convicted and convinced that we need to be in or near a big city: cities are where culture is made and where people are, and as Christians, we are called to influence the making of culture and share Jesus with those people! (Please don't see this as judgmental of those people who choose to live in the country. This is just where WE are called to be.)

We love the missional aspect of Acts 29 churches in general, and of this church in particular. The emphasis is understanding the culture, getting to know people, loving and serving as Jesus did, and generally seeing yourself as a missionary wherever God places you. Many of you have heard that phrase "We're all missionaries" many times before - Acts 29 churches put feet to the message in ways that show careful thought, prayer, and planning. Here is a quote from their website: "...our missional perspective flows out of a very high view of scripture on the one hand, and a total commitment to engage contemporary culture with the gospel on the other hand, using every effective means of communication. Therefore, most Acts 29 planters/pastors are biblically and theologically well-read. We study hard in the Bible because we believe a clear and orthodox understanding of the Gospel is critical. When it comes to the Gospel we do not innovate. When it comes to culture, however, we seek continually to be innovative in our means of communication. Understanding this distinction is key to understanding our missional perspective. It shapes the specific philosophy of ministry which any individual church plant will adopt. For this reason most Acts 29 pastors preach hard-hitting expository sermons through entire books of the Bible, speaking the unchanging Gospel directly into the ever-shifting winds of contemporary culture."

We are saddened to be leaving those of you nearby, that we love, but we are excited about this new adventure God has for our family. (And yes, I know the place we live in is a big city too, with many people who need to be reached. There's just something about this place and this church that we know is the right place and the right church. It is where we need to be.)

Our plans: We're going to be looking to sell or rent out our home in here. If any of you or anyone you know might be interested in buying or renting a 4/2 in a family-friendly neighborhood, please let me know! As soon as we can secure a buyer or renter, we will start heading North. We may rent an apartment for a while so we can house-hunt slowly and really get to know the area better, or we may land in the perfect house right off the bat. Our timetable right now is based on the renting/selling of our house here - we'd love to have your prayers in that area for us!

Thanks for reading this far! And remember, once we get a house, we'll have a guest room ready. :) All visitors welcome.

Love,
Allie for all of us.

P.S. Because this version of our newsletter is online for all the crazies to see (as well as all of you - no offense!), I kept it vague. If you want more information, email me, and I'll send you the real scoop. :)

We Voted!

And now we wait. In the meantime, I was glad to see that I should indeed be allowed to vote. How about you? Leave a comment and let me know.

You Should Be Allowed to Vote

You got 12/15 questions correct. Generally speaking, you're very well informed. If you vote this election, you'll know exactly who (and what) you'll be voting for. You're likely to have strong opinions, and you have the facts to back them up.

Should You Be Allowed to Vote?

Among the Tombs

“When Jesus had stepped out on land, there met him a man from the city who had demons. For a long time he had worn no clothes, and he had not lived in a house but among the tombs. When he saw Jesus, he cried out and fell down before him and said with a loud voice, “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I beg you, do not torment me.” For he had commanded the unclean spirit to come out of the man. (For many a time it had seized him. He was kept under guard and bound with chains and shackles, but he would break the bonds and be driven by the demon into the desert.) Jesus then asked him, “What is your name?” And he said, “Legion,” for many demons had entered him. And they begged him not to command them to depart into the abyss. Now a large herd of pigs was feeding there on the hillside, and they begged him to let them enter these. So he gave them permission. Then the demons came out of the man and entered the pigs, and the herd rushed down the steep bank into the lake and were drowned.

When the herdsmen saw what had happened, they fled and told it in the city and in the country. Then people went out to see what had happened, and they came to Jesus and found the man from whom the demons had gone, sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind, and they were afraid. And those who had seen it told them how the demon-possessed man had been healed. Then all the people of the surrounding country of the Gerasenes asked him to depart from them, for they were seized with great fear. So he got into the boat and returned.”
(Luke 8:27-37 ESV)

The townspeople were used to this crazy, demon-possessed man living among their tombs. They were familiar with his shrieking, his lack of clothing, his astounding strength. They had a plan: when the demons seized him, they called in the guards and tied him down. Yes, he broke loose, but then he'd go off into the desert for a while. The system seemed to be working for them.

Nevermind the fact that this man was tormented, that he had legions of demons inside of him. The people were used to his pain. Maybe they felt no fear because they were so used to the evil.

But then, Jesus. He delivered this man, caused the demons to inhabit pigs. The man put on clothes. He was sane again. He sat at his Savior's feet, whole and complete and no longer tormented. And this, this scared the people. They had become so used to, so numb to the evil that the power of God and the lack of evil in their midst scared them. Jesus scared them. So they asked him to leave, and He did.

This sounds familiar to me; our society is so warped, so used to evil in all its many forms, that it's the good - the holy, the pure, the righteous, in short: God - that scares us. It's so far from the norm for us that it makes us uncomfortable, and we ask to be left alone. And so, in many ways, we are.

It makes me think of Halloween coming up. The holiday devoted to evil has become familiar to us; we have made it into family fun and we have made the scary things in the world into part of the game.

And let's make it personal, too: in what parts of my life have I allowed the evil or the ungodly to become the norm? What parts of my life have I chosen to allow to remain among the tombs because it's what I'm used to? What parts would the Lord like to touch, to change, to transform if only I would ask Him? Do I fear the unfamiliar holy more than the familiar evil? Do you?

Lord, let us be like the delivered man in this story, choosing to venture out with You into the unknown and holy, leaving behind the familiar evil. Let us never allow our fear to get the better of us, to cause us to ask You to leave us alone. May we always choose You. In Jesus' name, amen.

Sticks and Stones

Overheard, at a PLAYGROUND! I am not making this up.

Now, now, no running. (what!?! On the playground?!)
Don't get dirty.
Use your inside voice. (Hello!! You are OUTSIDE!!)
No playing with sticks. Put that down.

Where have we gone wrong?

If I remember rightly, playing in the dirt, running, yelling, and playing with sticks are all birthrights of childhood. Oh my, we have become a weird, sanitized society when we can't even let our children do these things in the designated areas for doing these things! We've already fenced in and padded these playgrounds - which, I admit, is sometimes necessary because around the blissfully playing children lie highways with cars speeding past - and now we don't let the kids run? Use your inside voice? You've got to be kidding.







I understand having rules: don't hit your kid brother on the head with rocks. Don't poke each other in the eye. No rocks in the house where babies could eat them. But really, don't play with sticks? Don't throw sticks into bushes? (Iain asks me if he can do this every time we go to a specific park where he heard another mother telling her boys not to do it. I always say yes. Of course you can throw sticks into bushes!)





People always say that if you don't let your boys play with guns, they'll play with sticks like they were guns. What if you don't let them play with sticks? Will they pretend their crayons are sticks?





It just seems so crazy to me to not let your kid play with sticks and rocks. What else did God make them for?