A lot to update you on. I hope to post more details about most of these things in the future, but for now, I’ll simply say: we are in the process of accepting a referral of a sibling group, Henry is super sick, we are ending our adoption fundraising efforts, we are putting our house on the market and moving.
I promise I’ll say more about all of these in later posts. But the short story is that the referral we are accepting is EXACTLY perfect for our family and yet different than we first envisioned. I mean, we started this journey thinking we were bringing home a Chinese toddler with mild cerebral palsy. Now we are adopting 2 children from the Congo, a boy who just turned 5 and a girl who is 18 months old. This has made us realize that it would serve our kids best to move now and not a couple years from now. We need to provide as much stability as possible for our Congolese son as this has been a pretty rough year for him thus far. And because we want to make sure that people know their donations are going towards the adoption and not to our “buy a bigger house fund”, we are stopping the fundraising efforts.
Do I still have supplies to make frames and some wreaths to sell? Yes, and you can buy them and know that it will all go to the adoption. Will I solicit donations of toys and formula and mosquito nets before we travel to donate to the orphanage? Yes, but that is more for the kids than us.
Part of the reason we have done fundraising is because we wanted to invite others to love orphans alongside us. And I still want to send out that invitation. Adoption and orphan care is such a clear picture of the Gospel that I truly believe you can’t really “get” how much you are loved by God until you take a peek inside the world of orphan care. It is a peek inside the very heart of Jesus. I will always cry from the rooftops “Do you want to see Jesus at work? Here. Pray for this orphan. Make a meal for this foster family. Send this kid a mosquito net.” I can guarantee that both your life and the life of a child will be forever improved with these simple actions.
It is also true that we still have 4 plane tickets to buy and other traveling costs, all of which will total over 10k. And that’s a conservative estimate. If folks want to consider donating airline miles, I will make that information available when I have a clearer picture of what our actual travel needs will be.
That said, I don’t want to post pics of our new house or write about how I’m pretty sure I’m high right now from all the noxious fumes in our current home and receive harsh judgment. (We resealed the driveway yesterday and had the mustard yellow shower in our master bath refinished this morning. It’s like a giant bottle of nail polish made out with a gallon of tar. It’s awesome. Thank God for our whole house fan. Too bad it is 90 degrees outside.)
I don’t want to have people go all “Why were they asking for donations to adopt when they clearly have enough money to mulch their natural areas?” (Because in my mind, that’s what rich people do. Mulch over their natural areas. And by natural, I mean the places they haven’t been able to grow grass.) (Also, I can answer that question--bank loans.)
So it’s a whirlwind here: packing up, meeting with handymen, gathering adoption documents, trips to Lowe’s, middle of the night sick sessions, and talking to realtors and oh yeah, IT IS MY 8TH WEDDING ANNIVERSARY TODAY!
We are celebrating by cancelling our babysitter and our reservations and packing up the living room so we can paint it. And spraying the aforementioned natural areas with Round Up. And letting the kids watch hours of movies because Henry is so sick that this morning he puked on me. As I was cuddling him in the doctor’s office after his strep test. Oh, and did I mention that the vomit was bloody? And all down my back? And then he stood up and puked on my feet?
But the honest to God truth is, I wouldn’t have it any other way. (Well, I’m sad Henry feels so yucky. But thankful to be his Mommy.)
It is easy to have romance over Fried Green Tomatoes with a Pimento Cheese and Peppadew Aioli or tableside Bananas Foster. But a marriage isn’t about how well you love one another at candlelit dinners on your honeymoon. It’s about being forgiven for the thousand times you snap at your spouse because you are certain he is snoring just to spite you. (He is. He confessed.) It’s about the fact every time my dear husband leaves to go out of town early in the morning, he kisses me goodbye, affixes a love note to my alarm clock and makes sure there are plenty of Diet Dr. Peppers in the fridge. It’s about learning when to feed and when to starve your spouse’s brand of crazy. When to encourage dreams and when to rein them in. When to just forgive the lost temper without having to talk about it and when to step back and rehash each and every word so that real reconciliation can occur. You never count your money while you’re sitting at the table. Wait, no, that’s not marital advice. That’s the gambler.
Well, my darling Sloan, eight years and counting, I’m still all in. You are my ace I plan to keep.