Conversation from this Morning

Rob: Do you want some bacon for breakfast?

April: You know that bacon is like candy, right?**

Rob: ??

April: I just want to make sure we're on the same bacon page.

**Her point was that you shouldn't eat bacon every morning. I guess I see her bacon point.

Court Date- October 14th

This Thursday, October 14th, our adoption paperwork will officially be filed in a court in Ukraine. A few weeks after that, we will be given a travel date to meet and pick up our daughter.

Please pray that all would go well with the court date and that no unexpected problems come up.

Also, pray that the travel date would be EARLY. We've been told to expect late November/early December, but we're also hearing rumors it could be later. We're hoping for late November!

Acting Like It's Real

Rob here- up late, trying to bring our computer back to a shadow of what it was a few weeks ago (long unrelated story involving several reformats, 2 frustrated IT guys, and a lot of backed-up data finally being transferred back where it belongs now), and April is asleep on the hotel bed. We're out of town for a week so I can take a seminary class. It's late, and I'm trying to decide if I should just stay up until 4am and watch the play-by-play updates of the Steelers-Ravens game...

In the meantime, I'm meditating on a thought that occurred to me a few weeks ago. All of the paperwork that we can provide is now turned in. And hopefully it will be enough to satisfy the Ukrainian courts so that they will give us our little girl. As I was thinking about that, I realized how similar this adoption is to my faith. Not in the obvious, "we are adopted by God" sense- although that is true and very, very beautiful. I'm talking about something else.

She is my daughter. I know it in my heart. We pray for her, talk about her, plan for her, cry for her, and have even named her. But so far, all we have is a mountain of paperwork (a picture of which will go in her "baby book") and the promises of people we have to trust. My arms ache to hold her, and my imagination craves a real face to replace the ones I've fashioned for now. Some days (like some of the ones I've written about before) it's so hard to believe this will actually happen- that it's not just a fantasy, too good to be true. Other days, we get downright giddy making plans and talking about things to do with our little girl next year. Always moving towards the day when the faith will (hopefully) become sight.

Such is my life as a Christian. Some days, faith is easy. But many (most?) days, it's the feeling of, "this is too good to be true. it's got to be just a nice dream only true on paper." We push on because we believe that eventually the faith shall be sight. But until then we cling to faith while craving sight. I just act like it's real on the days when nothing makes it seem real.

Not a lesson I thought God was going to teach me through this. But then, he seldom goes with my lesson plans. Oh God, you and you sovereignty get me every time! Haste the day!

Ugh.

Ugh. The adoption is getting messy. Ukraine is asking for some new paperwork and they want it all right away. Plus they want all our old paperwork updated...right away. Most of it will be OK, just a little stressful and pricey to get again (e.g. our THIRD blood tests in 18 months). However, there are one or two things that might not happen. Our Virgina background checks won't be done in time.

And there are one or two things for which they'd like an "official" letter from East Asian government. Like, they want proof our daughter would be given a visa. Anyone who has lived or traveled here knows you can't just walk into a government office and say "Here's a form I made up in which you promise to do something. Will you sign it and give it an official stamp?" Um...yeah.

So we're trying to figure out if there's any way around some of these things.
The really hard thing is that if we can't work something out (and get our background checks on time), the adoption will be at BEST delayed a year or so. More likely, it will fall through.

So after already being in this process a year longer than expected, we're really discouraged right now. It's hard to get motivated to walk into another East Asian office and face another inevitable blank stare. Why is it that getting a child can come down to a piece of paper?! We're trying to still believe in God's sovereignty and goodness in the midst of this. For those of you that have been praying for this...thank you. And if anyone has some secret contact in the Ukrainian court system who owes you a big favor...can I get a phone number?

Summer Musing

As the air-conditioner repairman stood on the edge of our 26th floor balcony yesterday, it occurred to me:
Air-conditioner repairmen have one of the worst summer jobs. Wherever they go, the air-conditioner is broken.
And people are probably pretty crabby.

How I Spent My Evening (Rob's thoughts food)

It's been a while since we posted here- it's just been a very busy few weeks. So tonight it was nice to be able to relax, catch up on some e-mails, and make tortillas.

When I first moved to East Asia, I had pretty much resigned myself to living without some of my favorite foods, or else spending exorbitant amounts of money to get them ($12 for a box of Capt'n Crunch, anyone?). My wife, however, doesn't give up so easily.

So in the past year, we have (for example) made our own sour cream, egg-free pancakes, Auntie Anne's pretzels, homemade bagels, granola, and Catalina salad dressing. We've even pitted our own olives. And now we make our own flour tortillas. It's a lot of work, but if you've had April's chicken fajitas, you'd understand why I think it's worth it to spend a few hours mixing, rolling, frying, and cleaning.

It's a little exciting to imagine what hard to find culinary treasures we may add to our list in the coming year. English muffins? Doughnuts? Granola Bars?

I do know for sure what's next on my list- homemade pierogies!

Adoption Update- A Father-to-Be's Thoughts

No, nothing's changed. We're still slated to go sometime this winter to pick up our little girl. And that's what's so hard- the waiting.

The child that in a half a year will be ours is living in an orphanage somewhere around the world. She's probably already old enough to hobble a few steps and say a few words. Even though we haven't been matched with a child yet (and we won't be until we arrive there), ONE of those little girls is ours.

And there's nothing I can do about it.

Over the past year of paperwork, fund-raising, and preparation, my heart has steadily grown to take in this child as mine; and now it makes me so angry and upset that my daughter is living in an orphanage, that I can't swoop in and rescue her. I'm not even allowed to meet her yet.
I never imagined I would so much love her before she even joined our family, and now that love just makes the waiting hurt so much.

Things That Go

I love public transportation. Most of my American friends would rather have a car, but I can't imagine life without subways, light rails, 500 bus routes, and abundant taxis (not to mention my bike!).

Here's me a few months ago with one of our little friends here. His fascination with cars, trucks, and trains makes me wonder if my love of public transportation isn't partly due to the toys of my youth...

Remembering, again (Yes, April is a difficult month)

Today would have been my mom's 53rd birthday. I have friends who are older than that, which helps me understand why losing my mom feels so strange. She was 19 when I was born, and I made an easy transition into adulthood, relating to my parents more as peers.

I often think about how different our lives were. My mom, who always wanted to travel, hardly left the East Coast (until her trip to visit us!), while I've been to more places than I can remember, and all I've ever wanted is to settle down in the suburbs. By the time she was my age, my mom had been married 15 years and had two teenagers and an 8-year-old. We're still paper pregnant with child number one.

But regarding personality (and hair), we were so much alike. My mom and I always had secret looks that we gave each other when people would use a word incorrectly. We both loved to read (and my Lord of the Rings addiction probably began when she read the series to me a few months before I was born). We were good with numbers. We both relied too much on reason and tried to hide from our feelings. And we both were much more affected by my dad's death than we ever realized or let on.

Losing mom felt like losing my last connection to my past. Who do you go to when you need to remember the name of your kindergarten teacher? Who else knows the name of distant cousins? Who else knows all the embarrassing stories of your youth?

Happy Birthday, Mom. We miss you deeply.

Alas, new gym, we hardly knew you

A little more than a year and a half ago, we joined a gym. After our one-year membership expired, we checked out another gym near us and decided we liked it better- the price was a little better, the yoga classes were free, the treadmills had fans, it wasn't in a basement, and they didn't have heat lamps shining on you while you exercised (OK, so gyms here aren't exactly like the ones in the States. We occasionally see people walking backwards on the treadmills. And one gym said they don't need toilets because "people can just use the showers").

So we joined the newer gym that had just opened, and we've been faithful members there for two months. And then our old gym bought our new gym so they could close it down.

This is a common phenomenon we've experienced here. Once you find something you really like, it tends to get shut down. Our favorite restaurant, favorite sauna, favorite you-name-it- once you make an emotional attachment, you can be sure it won't last.

Fortunately, all members of the new gym get their membership transferred.
Unfortunately, we're back under the heat lamps...