Saturday, November 16, 2013


It's hard to believe it has been 2 months since the last time I blogged. To be honest, I have been in a state of self protection over this whole adoption situation. I have gone through the motions, registered for baby things, filled out paperwork, and met with social workers. People ask how I'm doing and I don't even know how to respond. I'm overwhelmed with God's goodness that He would allow us to walk this road, but I'm also terrified of something going wrong.

Experiencing Infertility, getting misdiagnosed as pregnant, and having an international adoption fall apart have taken a toll on me believing that this adoption is actually going to happen. So my prayers over these last few months have been, "Lord I know you are good no matter what, but I'm having a tough time believing this is all going to work out." And I believe that God has spoken into my heart, "That's ok, sweet daughter of mine. You just keep your eyes on Me."

A huge part of my personal faith journey has been understanding what are true promises from God and what are not. When infertility first became a reality in our lives, I was deeply frustrated with God. I thought that if I was good and faithful and obedient, He would bless me with the desires of my heart. My desire was to have a child, but God wasnt giving me one. It is dangerous to put promises in God's mouth that aren't actually from Him, because then when hard times hit, we say back to Him..."You said..." or "This isn't fair..." or "I don't know if I can believe a God who does things like this..."

Just today, I was sitting around a table of women when a sweet older lady, quoting Proverbs 22 said, "I'm just clinging to the promise 'train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it". I wanted to hug her and share with her that promises of God are true for all people in all places at all times. While Proverbs 22 is certainly wise advice, it is not a promise. If her child never returns to the faith, it is not because she was a bad mom or because God didn't pull through on His promise. Its just that God never promised it in the first place.

I thought God would give me a baby as a reward for my obedience. There is not a promise in Scripture that says this. My mom has cancer. There is not a promise in Scripture that her cancer will disappear if we just have faith. Before moving to Colorado, I prayed God would move us closer to family. There is not a promise in Scripture that says we will get to live in the exact zip code we want. There is not a promise that we will get the job, win the game, make the money.... There just isn't.

But there is a greater promise that I can cling to about God. One of the most repeated phrases in the Bible is "fear not." This is almost always connected with a phrase that follows, "for I am with you." My husband Steve says it best, "God does not promise to walk us AROUND the storm, He promises to walk us THROUGH it."
There are countless Scriptures that speak of this promise that God is with us. Here are a few of my favorites:

To Joshua: "The Lord your God is with you wherever you may go." (Joshua 1:9)
David said: "Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me" (Psalm 23)
Jesus promised His disciples: "surely I am with you, to the very end of the age." (Matthew 28)

THIS is the promise I've been holding onto tightly over the last 2 months - that God is with me. And no matter what happens along this journey, He has gone before me, comes behind me and hems me in. What a beautiful picture!

Sometimes when we think about how God is walking with us through this journey, we have to laugh. Who would have thought that our child would be born in the very city we JUST moved away from, after living there for nearly ten years? Who would have thought we would be adopting a baby boy domestically after setting out on a journey to adopt a little girl internationally? Who would have thought that our first Christmas as Colorado residents would be spent in Akron, Ohio?

I know God is with us, because who else would write a story like this? So as Steve and I have thought about what we are going to name this little peanut, we keep coming back to this word: "Laughter."

There is a story in the Bible about a really old man and woman who God promises a child. It seemed ridiculous and impossible for this to occur. But God promised it to them. So when God came through on His promise, they decided to name their child Isaac, which means "laughter". Sarah (the old lady) said about her child, "God has brought me laughter, and everyone who hears about this will laugh with me".

I couldn't have said it better myself. Our son, if God continues to move this story forward, will be named Isaac, because every time I think about him, I laugh - at God's goodness, at His promises and of course at his beautiful irony.

My sweet Isaac, you already bring a smile to my face. You are a picture of God's goodness in our lives and we love you already. May our lives be filled with laughter, surprise, and awe at how God walks with us.


  • Isaac ("Ike") is due on December 24. His birth mama had a great doctors appointment this week - He's right on track, 34 weeks, 5 lbs, head down (whatever that means :))
  • Dima and I will be heading to Akron on December 16th just in case he comes early. Birth mama has requested that I be in the room with her for delivery - so incredibly grateful for that opportunity.
  • Steve will join us in Akron on December 23rd (or sooner if she goes into labor before then).


  • Please pray for Ike - that God would surround his little body with protection in this last month of womb-living
  • Pray for birth mama - that she would feel so confident in her decision to place this little guy in our family
  • Pray for our hearts as we prepare to become a family of 4

Until next blog,
love: Steve, Kate & Dima

Monday, September 16, 2013

Child of God

Today my husband and I took our son to his doctor's appointment. It was his first visit to the doctor since we moved to Colorado.

I came with copies of his medical records from Ohio. As the nurse began reviewing the paperwork, his adoption story quickly bubbled to the surface.

I explained, "We brought him home from Russia when he was almost three. Before that, we know very little about his medical history."

I always try to keep my answers short and neutral since I know there are very curious little ears holding on to every word I speak.

"How old was I when I came home?" he asks.

"Almost 3."

"But now I'm six years old. And I go to kindergarten. But just in the afternoon."

In that moment, the doctor stepped into the conversation, "You were a tiny little boy when you came home and now you are a big boy."
("Now I'm a big boy", he whispers quietly under his breath).

As my son sat there on the medical table, his little feet dangling off the side, you could just sense his wheels were spinning as he attempts to piece together his story.

"Adoption" and "coming home" and "Russia" are very normal words used in of our family's day to day conversations. Dima knows he was adopted, he knows that he grew in someone else's womb and he knows he lived "with the ladies" in an orphanage. He knows all of these things, but as we begin the journey of bringing home our second child, these concepts are intensifying in his young mind.

"When is my step brother coming home?", he asks.

"Your step brother? You aren't going to have a step brother."

"Yes I am. A step brother is when you have different parents, but you live together as one family."

This is our son, always thinking, always wanting to figure things out. He has always been that way. When he first came home, we would go on merry go rounds and instead of waving to the onlookers outside of the fence, he would fix his eyes upward, entranced by the pulleys that made the horsy move up and down.

"We are your parents and we are also going to be this little boy's parents. So, you actually do have the same parents...."

I still see that he is trying to understand it all as his mind is working overtime to make sense of these unnatural family dynamics.

"A judge in Russia actually changed your name to match our name. You are and forever will be a 'Garcia'. And after this little baby is born, a judge is going to change his name to match our name. And he will and forever will be a Garcia. But, even more amazing than that...God already KNEW that you were going to be a Garcia and He KNEW that this little boy would be a Garcia, so He bonded all of our hearts together with Love Glue. And absolutely NOTHING can change that."

"You were once someone else's you are MY child. And once you become MY child, there is nothing that can separate you from my love."

As I explain his story of adoption, it awakens in me a deeper understanding of my place as God's child.

I was once a child of darkness, born into a world and life of sin and separation from God. Through Jesus, I am now a child of God. The Ultimate Judge signed on the dotted line and changed my name.
I moved from being a stranger to being known.
From darkness to light.
From death to life.
From orphan to daughter...
...not God's "step-child"
...not his "half-child"
...a child of God.

When I talk about and think about God, I don't even refer to myself as His "adopted daughter".
I am a child of God. He is my Father. I am His daughter. He has brought me into His family; and as it promises so beautifully in His Word...

"I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height or depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord (and Father)." -Romans 8:38-39

  • We are still working on paper work to complete our new home study
  • The baby is doing well and kicking and growing
  • Please pray for wisdom and diligence to complete all of the necessary steps for our paperwork to be complete
  • Please pray for this little baby boy: that God would protect and care for his little body and mind as he grows
  • Please pray for sweet birth mom: that she would feel confident in this adoption plan and that she would know how much we will (and already do) love this little boy

Until next Monday, 
Love: Kate, Steve & Dima

Tuesday, September 3, 2013

The Ultrasound

A week ago today, I was sitting in a doctor's office in Akron, OH with a young pregnant girl. The girl who is carrying the boy I may someday call "son".

The decision to be there, though a quickly made one, was assured. After I spoke with this precious girl on Skype just days earlier, I knew. I knew I had to be with her at the next doctor's appointment. I needed to see her face. I needed her to see mine. I needed to see the ultrasound for myself.

So we booked a plane ticket for me to leave just 4 days later so that I could be present in this important moment. I've never had an ultrasound before. I've never 'heard the heartbeat' or anxiously anticipated the news of 'boy or girl'. Most of how I imagined these appointments to go was based on movies I have seen or stories I have heard. And it was such a whirlwind that led up to this appointment, I really did not know what to expect or what I would feel or how I would respond. All I knew is that I had to be there.

Brandi (not her real name) and I were called back into the dark room with the big TV and she lay on the table as I sat closely beside her. The technician squirted gooey gel on her belly and just like in the movies, she put the little camera stick on Brandi's stomach and started rubbing it all around. We heard the bum-bum of the heartbeat and my face began to get red with excitement and nervousness. Round and round went the stick, stopping to take snap shots of the two little arms, two little legs, head and..."it's a boy", the technician declared. Brandi and I laughed as we had talked earlier about how convinced she was that it was a girl.

As the technician printed out the little black and white pictures, I asked her if she could print out an extra copy of them for me. "Brandi will choose if she wants to give them away", she said shortly.

My heart began to beat a little faster. I took a deep breath and summoned a smile to my face.
Brandi and I together, looked through the images of this little human that is living inside of her. We traced the arms and giggled at how his tiny hand looked like it was waving at us from under his chin.

Then I see it. At the top corner of the picture "Brandi Smith". The name of the mother of this child.

I don't know why I was expecting or even hoping that it would say "Kate Garcia", even if just in parentheses. Why would it? That is when reality began to crash in on me as I worked hard to silence the deep ache that began to reawaken in the pit of my stomach.

I recounted the last 30 minutes. Why wasn't I the one laying there on the table? Why wasn't Steve the one holding MY hand beside me, giggling together over the news?

I wish I could say I walked away from this appointment with only happy and excited feelings. But I didn't. I have never had a more tangible picture of infertility. Even screaming louder than a negative pregnancy test is clinging to a picture of my son with a different woman's name marking his identity. One day, I believe, there will be a picture of him with his new family name captioned across the top of the image. One day...but today his caption reads "Brandi Smith".

As I sat in the airplane flying home, I allowed the tears to flow. "God, I should have just waited for the 'it's a boy' text from Brandi. This feels too much and now I'm angry at myself for being so sad on what should be such a happy day."

That is when I sensed God speaking into my soul, "This day was not for you, Katie. It wasn't even for Brandi. It was for this little boy."

This day was for 15 years from now, when he is piecing together his story. He is going to see that I was there, with her. He is going to know that Brandi and I cared deeply for each other and that we both loved him - even before he was born. She loved him enough to know she could not care for him the way he deserved. I loved him enough to come face to face with the deepest pain in my soul just to see his first photograph.

I pray that some day this boy will find deep comfort in the truth that he was loved and greatly wanted.


  • We are working on paperwork details and home study updates to have everything legally ready
  • We are planning and thinking through the details of travel and what our time in Akron will look like in December/January. 
Prayer Requests:
  • Pray for Brandi to make good decisions for herself and for this little boy
  • Pray for our family as we begin to prepare our hearts, lives and home for a new brother
  • Pray for the agencies and social workers who are working and advocating for this child
Until next, Kate, Steve & Dima

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

A Boy from Akron

"Kate, check your email and let me know what you think", the text read from Steve.

He doesn't normally send me texts like that and when he does, they are usually about trying to schedule a time to meet up with a couple or a Groupon for a Denver adventure.

I open up my email and it is a forwarded message telling of a young girl in Akron who is pregnant and not wanting to keep the baby. "Does anyone know of anyone who may be able to help this young girl out?"

I didn't think much of it. We have received many forwarded emails or questions similar to this. One commitment Steve and I have made is that we would be open to taking the next step with any situation that involves a requested need for adoptive parents to step in. And we have.

A few months ago, I sat in Akron General Hospital beside a young girl, strung out on heroine who had just given birth to her very sick daughter. We had been contacted earlier that week about her situation and that she would need someone to step in and adopt this baby because the young girl was deemed unfit to be a mother because of her addictions.

So, there I sat, 3 hours after her delivery, just the two of us in this cold empty room, void of life though new life had just entered in. I held her hand and prayed over her as her body rocked back and forth and her teeth chattered. Tears rushed down her face uncontrollably as she shared her life with me. Her arms told stories of pain and addiction. Her words spoke of heartache unimaginable. Meanwhile, her baby girl lay rooms away, coming off of her own addictions, paying for choices she did not make.

We were ready. We were ready to bring this little baby into our family, to call her our own.  But a very adamant birth family member came in to the picture and would allow no such thing. So we walked away, saddened and angered over the pain in this world. We were frustrated by the cycle of how poverty and addiction ravish lives and tear apart hopes and dreams. But we prayed and continued to ask God to help us be available to whatever may come our way. We asked Him to help us keep our hearts open when so much pain would tempt us to close them up and not allow anymore let-downs.

So three weeks ago, I made the phone call to the "contact person"that was on the email forwarded to us.  This young pregnant girl's story was shared with me. At the end of the conversation, I shared our heart for adoption and our desire to enlarge our family, "But we do live in Colorado now. Is that going to be a problem?"

The next 10 days that followed were a sprint. My days were filled with phone calls to attorneys and adoption agencies in both Ohio and Colorado. We even had a Skype conversation with the young woman carrying this child. Through all of this the ball kept rolling.

As we began to sense that an adoption may actually be possible, Steve and I decided that it would be best for me to travel to Ohio to meet this young pregnant woman in person. So, 4 days later, I hopped on an airplane and took a whirlwind 36 hour trip to Akron.

I picked her up and we rode to her doctors appointment together, excited to find out the gender of the baby and how things were progressing.  We went to lunch afterwards and talked about hopes and dreams for her and for this child she is carrying. (It was all very surreal and there will be plenty of blog posts to come about this visit and it's effects on my heart).

There we sat, after the appointment, staring at the ultra sound picture together and pointing out all of this little baby's pieces and parts as the technician had described to us earlier.  She looks across the table and says to me, "You're having a boy". Our eyes held fixed as she said those words, and in that moment there was this realization of our deep need for each other. Adoption is a beautiful mess. Glorious ruins. Out from the pain of both of our stories emerge life, motherhood and freedom. It is God making things good that shouldn't be good.

A boy from Akron.

It's funny to think that heading into this second adoption we believed God was leading us to a girl from Russia. And I remember writing when we first began that I could not expect everything to go the same as our first adoption because God is a creator, not a duplicator. But, oh, the irony. Oh, the beauty. Our son, residing in this beautiful girl's Akron, Ohio.

So where do we go from here?

At this point, we don't know many details of what is to come. We know that the baby is due December 24th. We know that there are many things that could happen which would threaten this adoption from ever getting completed. Even so, we are moving forward.

We are in the process of updating our home study and have applied with an agency to help us through the complicated details of an "inter-state designated adoption."

We are hopeful. Scared. Excited. Cautious.

And Dima wants to name him Dima Jr.

What ever happened to our adoption plans from India?

After we moved to Colorado, we were getting the sense from our agency that adopting from India was becoming increasingly difficult for American families. The wait time was extended to up to at least 2 years and the age and needs of the children available were changing.

We explored other options, but realized quickly that the world of international adoption, though still active is definitely not as sure as it once was. Our hearts were becoming unsettled and we began praying for God to make it so clear to us for how to move forward.

Our hearts are still deeply connected and passionate about international adoption. That will never change. And our prayer is that God will allow us to walk down that road again in the future.


  • Please pray that this adoption would go through. If it does, we will bring home a baby in 4 months! Pray for our hearts as we walk this unstable road
  • Pray for the birth mom to make good, healthy choices as she carries this sweet little life
  • Pray for the details to work out quickly since we are stepping into this pretty late in the "normal" process
  • Pray for our relationship with the birth mom to continue to grow as we continue to keep regular communication with her

Until next Monday,
Love: Steve, Kate and Dima

Sunday, June 9, 2013

Where have we been?

"Have you stopped updating the blog?"
"Where have you been?"
"Is everything ok?"

(First off, I'm sorry for not keeping the blog more updated in the last couple of months. We have been going through a major life change and have not shared it publicly until the past few weeks).

A couple of months ago, a conversation began between Steve and the director of ministries of a church in Parker, Colorado. To make a long, 3 month story short, after many interviews and much prayer, Steve and I decided that we did want to accept the job and move our family across the country. He will be the Family Pastor, which means that he will get to set the vision and course for children from birth through 18. We will be investing in families and partnering with parents and seeing how the church can best support families as we all walk this bumpy road of parenthood together.

As we were flying out to Colorado last week to settle some of the final details, I said to Steve, "Isn't it so ironic that you are the "Family Pastor"? Tears filled my eyes as I laughed to myself. This is a beautiful picture of God's redemption in our lives. 5 years ago, an infertile couple who had all but given up on the thought of being parents, would never dream of being a "Family Pastor". We have no experience to offer about birth stories, breastfeeding vs. formula, sleepless nights with a newborn, how to teach a child to walk...

But here is what experience we can bring:
How do you trust God when you feel like He is not answering prayer the way you want Him to?
What does it look like to be forced into patience (whether you want to be or not)?
What do you do with pain?
How do you rejoice with those who rejoice when you are in your own place of mourning?
How does God's love meet you in deep and personal ways in the face of drowning hopelessness?
What does it mean to marvel in God's goodness when He makes beauty from ashes?

And really aren't those the questions that bring us together anyway? We can talk all day about schooling or diapers, but those aren't the questions that keep us up at night, that keep us on our knees in prayer, that force us to rely on each other for prayer and support and encouragement. I look forward to living life with these new families in Colorado. To share in joy and pain, in the giving and taking away.  I believe that God has exciting and great things for our family in the years to come and I can't wait to see what He does!

But, I'm also sad. Sad to leave the deep history of connection here in Akron. After 10 years of living somewhere, roots have been established. We have celebrated marriages, births, graduations of close friends and families we have grown to love. We have grieved loss, miscarriage, sickness, wayward children with friends and families we have grown to love. As I hugged a sweet high school student on the day we announced our leaving, she spoke into my ear, "you walked with me through some of the darkest days...." tears flowed down my face as I looked at the beauty that God had made out of her life.

But I can say the same for myself about so many people, friends who have become like family, in Akron. You have walked with me through some of my darkest days. You have walked with me through infertility and realities that come with a diagnosis that alters the dreams for your life. You have supported us as we made the decision to adopt a child from Russia. You have thrown fundraisers and garage sales and given sacrificially to bring our child home. You have waited with us...and then waited some more. You have prayed us through the times where we were too weary to pray on our own.

And there will never be a day like the day we brought our son home. After close to 20 hours of traveling with a sad, frustrated, fear-filled child that we now call, son, we came down the escalator of the Cleveland airport to be greeted by the sounds of cheers, tears and laughter. A mass of people filling the airport baggage area to show their support and encouragement of how we became "a family".  You have given much grace as we have taught our child who only knew 4 walls of an institution what it means to be in a loving family. What it means to go on a playdate. What it means to share. What it means to not have to fight for the snacks on the table. You, Akron family, have lavished us with grace and love...and there are no words to say thank you. This is the history we leave. And we step into a place that calls us "The Garcia Family". Few will know how we got that name.

So we say "goodbye" with much sadness to our Akron Family. And we say "hello" with much excitement and anticipation to our new Parker Family.

-Because of the move, we have put our India adoption on hold.
It is still going to happen, but we will have to update our homestudy once we establish new residency.
-Thankfully, because our New Jersey background check took close to 4 months, we have not lost any money because of our move

-Please pray for our family as we begin this new and exciting chapter in our lives.
-Pray for Dima as this will be a big change for him, and for us as we parent him through this new transition.
-Pray that God would continue to open the door for our adoption to move through even amidst the set-backs.

Until next blog post, love,

Monday, March 18, 2013

Expectant Mother

Last week Steve and I sat around a table filled with other young couples for a parent training class at our church. One of our first activities was to count up the number of children represented at the table. 2+3+1+2. We had our total.

"Oh wait, Jenny and John are due next month. Add 1."
Everyone agreed. Of course!
"What about Steve and Kate...aren't you guys adopting? Should we count your family as 2 kids?" Silence.
Awkward "umm's" and uneasy "yeah, maybe's".
"Well, our table isn't going to win anyway, so it doesn't matter."

I get it. I feel the same tension. Are we expecting? Are we counted as a family of 3 or a family of 4. Pregnant Jenny definitely counts. But do I? There's no life growing inside of me. And there really is no definite time frame of when or if a child will be added to our family. I feel the same confusion with the continuation of the blog at this point. Steve said it best today as we were talking about it: "It's like trying to get into the Christmas spirit in January".

With pregnancy, there is a clear end date. Sure, one may go a week or two past their due date, but I've never asked a pregnant person when they are due and their answer was, "I don't know...could be next month, might be next year".

There is clarity in their waiting. There are countdowns and things to expect when you're expecting. If there was a book written about what to expect when you are adopting, only one sentence would be truthful: "There is nothing predictable about an international adoption."

There may be steps in the process that are clear markers, but when you are dealing with 2 constantly changing governments, the time distance between those markers contains no promises. This is incredibly frustrating.

I'd love to be able to provide a clear answer of when our daughter will come home. I'd love to track her progress on facebook with what size of fruit she may be right now, but I can't. This adoption, much more than the last one, has thrust us into a very unknown place. I feel like i've been blindfolded, taken to a dark room and told to find my way out.

I feel like I'm fumbling my way through the new terminology of adopting from India, I'm constantly stubbing my toe on the roadblocks of paperwork and changes. The darkness overtakes my spirit at times and my natural response is to go straight to fear and doubt. At times I feel bound to the dark waiting room, even though I know that God desires for us to be bound to Him alone.

I'm trying to focus on life right now - the joys, the hopes, the dreams, and the opportunities God has for me right now. I don't want my life to constantly hang in the balance of waiting. I want to experience what God has for me right now.

Here is what we do know right now about the India adoption process:

  • Once our home study update is complete, it is sent to the US Government for approval.
  • That approval, (along with all other documents) gets sent to the CARA (Central Adoption Resource Agency) in India.
  • The CARA then looks for the best RIPA (confused yet?)
  • The RIPA is the Recognized India Placement Agency - which is basically an orphanage

Once we reach the RIPA, we are officially "registered."

  • That RIPA then labors to match us with one of their available children. 
  • This process could take anywhere from a couple of months to a couple of YEARS.
  • Once we are "matched", a tedious process of paperwork and court dates is set in motion, which again, could take months. 

Then we would take ONE TRIP to India to bring our child home.

So, we feel like we are probably 18 months - 2 years away from completing our Indian adoption. We are learning as we go. This is a brand new experience for us and we are asking God for wisdom at every turn.

Thank you for journeying with us. Because we are so far off, I, at times, feel silly for even keeping this blog updated. How many years of blog entries can be about "waiting"? :) But, I so appreciate your dedication to our journey. Your words of encouragement and prayers carry us through this wild adventure.

Also, I have decided to classify myself as an expectant mom.

With confidence, I fully EXPECT God to sustain my heart, bring patience to my soul and give me the strength to live in the today He has given me.

Until next Monday,
love: Kate, Steve & Dima

Monday, March 4, 2013


Today is a special day. March 4th is "homecoming day". It is the day we celebrate our son's coming home from Russia. After 8 years of infertility, 2 years of the adoption process, tens of thousands of dollars, crazy amounts of paperwork, multiple trips to Russia, we brought our son home.

After 8 months in house filled with neglect and pain followed by a year in a Russian institution filled with monotony and 4 sterile walls, we brought our son home.

As we came down the escalator in the Cleveland airport to the sounds of family and friends cheering and the image of balloons and signs, laughter and tears, all of the trials of the process seemed to fade away. It was a new day. The beginning of new life for our son, for us, for our family.

An orphan now a son, a barren woman now a mother. It was a beautiful, redemptive moment of God's work in all of our lives.

So today we celebrate. We had a sleepover in our basement and all slept cuddled up together like we shared three years ago during those long nights in Moscow. We woke up and had a traditional Russian breakfast of blini (thin pancakes), fruit and coffee. We went to Build-A-Bear workshop to remember Dima's very first stuffed animal, Mishka that we brought to him on our first trip and that he brought home.

Mishka is an adventurous little bear who has traveled the world and is not as soft as he once was. And so we talked about how much better life is when our story is defined by adventure. Mishka might not be as soft and he may have picked up scabies along the way, but Mishka has a story. He didn't just spend his life on a shelf. His matted fur tells a story of longing, freedom and love. And we praised stories of adventure and the epic story of our son.

We finished off the celebration at TGIFridays, which is the first restaurant we ate at in Moscow. We laughed (now) about how he crawled under the table of a Russian family while we tried to call him out. "Idi- cominye, Dima" (Come here, Dima) And how the Russian families were tsk-ing our parenting efforts in disapproval. But, we celebrate. We remember the good times. We remember God's faithfulness. We remember how He knit our stories together from the beginning.

It's good to remember, especially when you're frustrated with God's timing. Dima's homecoming day could not have come sooner. While I am still frustrated with the timing of our 2nd adoption, the Russian adoption ban, the long wait time in India, as well as recent letdowns, I still remember.

I remember how 9 months into our first adoption, we had to change regions which essentially started the waiting process all over again.

I remember how in the beginning of our adoption journey I wondered how I could ever wait an entire year to bring home our son...but I waited two.

I remember how when I first saw a picture of Dima, my heart leapt in my chest. I knew he was our son.

I remember how the waiting felt unbearable, but God always lifted my heart when I felt like I could not take it any longer.

I remember the fears.
I remember the heartache.
I remember the joy.
I remember God's faithfulness.

There is something about looking back that brings hope to looking forward.

David (in the Bible) questions God and asks "Has God forgotten to be gracious? Has He slammed the door on His compassion?" And then, in the very next breath, he says, "But then I remember all You have done, O Lord; I remember your wonderful deeds of long ago. You are the God of great wonders!"

It's as if David's pen was writing the words of my heart. For the last few weeks, I have been asking similar questions...
"God, have you forgotten to be gracious?"
"Have you slammed  the door of compassion on our life and on the life of our little girl?"
"Do you see me?"
"Do you hear me?"
"Do you love me?"
"Are you really faithful and good?"

And then today, March 4th, Homecoming Day. I remember.
"I remember Your wonderful deeds God. You are the God of great wonders!"


  • we recently learned of more challenges and longer wait times to our India adoption from a conference that was held last week in India concerning adoption
  • we are still working and waiting on paperwork to complete our update for our home study to then get our US approval before we can apply to register in India. 
Prayer Requests:
  • Please pray for our hearts as we take in the reality of the waiting. 
  • Pray for all of the paperwork that needs to be completed before we can register in India.
  • Please pray for our little girl - that God would protect her and surround her with love.
Until next Monday, 
Love: Kate, Steve & Dima