Promises

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.

UPDATES:

• 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).

PRAYER REQUESTS:

• 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

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 child...now 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

UPDATES:

• We are still working on paper work to complete our new home study
• The baby is doing well and kicking and growing

PRAYER REQUESTS:

• 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

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.

Updates:

• 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 Monday...love, Kate, Steve & Dima

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 body...in 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.

PRAYER REQUESTS:

• 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

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.

UPDATES:
-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

PRAYER:
-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,
Steve,Kate&Dima

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

Remembering

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!"

Updates:

• 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

Aruna

The summer of 2007 was the first time I ever stepped foot in the beautiful country of India. As we walked off the airplane, we were welcomed by the many sights, sounds, and smells. Wall to wall people was the backdrop of our walk through the airport. The sounds of cars, buses, and rickshaws honking, each with their own customized ring tone quickly became the new score played behind every conversation.

Steve and I were there along with a team of high school students from our church. And as we made our way to the compound where we stayed for the 2 weeks, we became overwhelmed with the beautiful dichotomy that is India. On the same real estate can sit a beautiful, colorful mansion and a small shack village of pieced together dwellings. We would be enthralled by the beauty of a scene only to be slapped in the face with the reality of poverty sharing the same moment. There was so much to take in.

One of the opportunities we had while we were in India was to develop and lead a youth conference. Our team put together dramas and songs and games to share with our new friends, and through the help of translators, we were able to encourage them in their lives and learn from them as well. 

Many of these young people were extremely poor and traveled for 2 days on long, hot bus rides just to get to the conference. I instantly connected with one of the girls, a precious 12 year old named Aruna. 

She spoke no english. I spoke no Hindi. We spent the day drawing pictures back and forth, taking photos on my camera, walking around together, eating together, drinking chai together. It truly is amazing how love can transcend a language barrier. 

We spent 4 days together and on the last day of the conference, she handed me her cell phone. 

I placed it up to my ear. "Hello?" 

I never thought I'd be receiving a phone call from someone in India :) It was her pastor from her village. He spoke some broken english and wanted to tell me how much Aruna learned from the conference. It was a great and encouraging conversation. Aruna and I said our tearful goodbyes and we parted ways back to our homes. 

Fast forward one year to the summer of 2008. I had the opportunity to return to India with a different group of high school students. to lead another youth conference in the same place. I thought about Aruna a lot over the year, but never dreamed that I would ever see her again.

We weren't there long when one of the local leaders of the conference found me and said, "Kate, there is someone here who is anxious to see you." And out walks Aruna, along with her sister and her mother. "Hi Kate", she said. "How are you?"

Aruna had spent the year learning english in anticipation of seeing each other again. 

It was a beautiful reunion. She introduced me to her family and we again, enjoyed the days together. This time, on the last day of the conference, Aruna and her family invited me back to their room. They presented me with a beautiful Indian garment called a salwar. It was one of the most difficult gifts I have ever had to receive because I knew the cost that went into the gift. 

Who knows how many months wages went into the purchase of this gorgeous outfit? 

I tried it on and then they rubbed oil on my arms and braided my hair with flowers. I sat there with tears streaming down my face as these 3 beautiful women blessed me. I was so humbled in that moment. I came to India to be a blessing. As it turned out, I was the one being blessed. 

In many ways, I feel like this is the story of our adoption. We enter the journey with a motivation to bless, by "rescuing" a child from a dire situation. But the reality is, we are far more blessed by the gift of parenthood. 

I feel strange sometimes when people say things like, "wow, this little girl in India is so lucky to have you take her out of these circumstances." Or, "Dima is so lucky to have been rescued out of the orphanage. He is so blessed." But, the truth is we are the ones who are blessed. I would not be a mom without Dima or our little girl. Their very lives are God's precious gift to us. 

I so look forward to the day we bring our little blessing home from India. Though it seems like such a distant hope and dream, it is the memories of people like Aruna that remind me of the joy that is to come.  I hope to tell my daughter the stories of her country and all of the beautiful people we've met there. And what a special day it will be when I can sit in our living room and braid my daughter's hair with flowers and tell her about another special Indian girl named Aruna.

Prayer Requests:

• patience - it's frustrating to think how long this process will take
• for our little girl - that God would be preparing her for us and us for her

Until next Monday, 

love: Kate, Steve & Dima

Starting Over

Last weekend, our social worker came to our house for our home study. This is required for adoption. Though we already went through all of this when we began our Russian adoption, switching to India has required us to do this again. We always enjoy our time with our social worker. She is very kind and helpful. But, honestly, I didn't want to have to see her again for a while.

And I was reminded of the reality that we truly are starting over.

Based on where we were with our Russia adoption, we believe we were days away from receiving our referral (the child's picture, age & region). We worked hard and quickly to get our paper work completed and had waited for 6 months. Our hearts were building with anticipation and then this past weekend, the adrenaline of the last couple of months subsided and I sat on the couch after she left in an overwhelmed state of frustration.

I looked in front of me at the new stack of paper work that needed to be completed. Documents that needed to be mailed out. Phone calls that need to be made. Papers that have to wait on other papers before they can get mailed out. Months of paper work that lay ahead of us before we can get to the "waiting phase"...again.

Now, I do know that there are much worse situations that I can be in. I also know that in many ways, this is the path we have chosen. But I have to be honest with my feelings. Sometimes it just doesn't feel fair.

I look at families who strategically plan out the ages of their children, most of whom are 2 years apart. And somehow, miraculously, it works. I look at my 5 year old son and think about the fact that he will probably be 7 before his sister even comes home. This just isn't the way I envisioned our family plan.

I wanted the 2 years apart playmates. I wanted the pregnancy. I wanted "my" plan to work. And though I absolutely am passionate about adoption, about my son, about my daughter, about the story God has written for us and how He has redeemed our barrenness...sometimes, the pain of infertility rears it's ugly head in my heart and I mourn again the loss of the broken dream.

I get frustrated over how easy some people have it when it comes to having babies. There is this strange and beautiful marriage of sorrow and joy within my soul. The deep sorrow of dreams lost, mix with the  love and generosity that came through adoption.

On most days, joy wins. I look in the face of my son and never once doubt that he was meant for our family. He brings life and laughter and joy to my soul on a daily basis. But some days, sorrow wins. Like today.

I cling to the hope of God's word that sorrow may last for a night, hope is rising with the sun. With this,  God brings me back to His heart with a comforting peace. And it's okay to feel sadness. This does not mean that I don't love the story God has written for our family, it simply means these emotions can happen together. Joy and sadness all in one heart, all at one time.

UPDATES:

• We have completed our home study interview. Now we wait for it to sent to the US government for approval
• Once this happens, we begin on documents that are specific to India. 

PRAYER REQUESTS:

• that we don't lose heart heading into yet another season of waiting
• for our little girl, somewhere in India, that God would be preparing her heart for our family

Until next Monday,

love: Kate, Steve & Dima

Broken in the Marketplace

I will never forget the day I walked into a crowded market in India. The taxi dropped us off on the side of the road and as we began to walk down the street, a mob of young street children bombarded us. "Sir, mum...please, may I have some money. Please." 

We were strongly urged to not give money to any children in the streets because the money never actually went to them. With tears in my eyes, I looked at this one little girl who couldn't have been more than five. I said, "I'm sorry, I have no money". 

As I walked away, I suddenly felt this little girl literally jump onto my back. "Please mum, please." I gently pulled her off my back and as I looked into her eyes, all I saw was vacancy. Her dark hair was matted to her dirtied skin. Her clothes tattered and torn with a faded out image of a sunshine on the front of her too small tshirt.  Her soul had been ravished by the injustices of this world. She was no longer her own, she belonged to another. And as she walked away, I watched her turn the corner and face an angry looking man who was obviously expecting a return. 

My heart broke. I could do nothing for that girl. 

Amidst the busyness of the marketplace, my mind stood still. There was no category in my brain to explain this away. I had just stared in the eyes of the reality of injustice. And my life changed. 

Even if I had all the money in the world to give her, it would leave her hands and she would be sent back to the streets. In that moment I pleaded with God to give me the strength and ability to do something. For years, that meant prayer and encouraging those who were able to act. Praying for the courageous Indians who were literally dying on behalf of freedom and justice for their people.  And now, I feel God is stirring our hearts to move us into more action. 

When we were starting our second adoption we considered India as an option, but since the country was not open to international adoption at the time we felt compelled towards Russia again. Once we made that decision we really didn't think twice about any other countries, until a month ago when the Russian adoption ban became a reality for our family. 

We have been praying, seeking counsel, talking with international adoption specialists and social workers and have been trying to make the best possible choice for our family. 

We first had to take a step back and ask ourselves, why do we desire international adoption? The first reason is because we desire another child. The second reason is because we want to give a child a family who otherwise would have no hope without the reality of adoption.

As we thought and prayed through that statement, there became no greater option in our lives than to adopt our daughter from India. 

So we take this step forward towards an Indian adoption. We are nervous. This is new and uncharted waters. This has unique implications on even what our family is going to look like. But we believe that God's love covers all - including skin color and culture. And the bond that He will give to us as we call ourselves "family" will be unbreakable with His love at the core. 

As an affirming sign of God's provision, the agency we had been using for our Russian adoption also works in India. This is actually pretty unbelievable considering there are not many agencies who work in India. Financially speaking, we will not lose any of our agency money or donations and almost everything will transfer. 

Unfortunately, we will have to start from the beginning with our paper work. This means a new home study, as well as new government approval. Hopefully we will be able to move through it quickly since we just went through it, but it is starting over. 

Once our paperwork gets completed, it will be sent to India and then begins the waiting process (similar to Russia). It seems like our wait time will be around a year. India requires two trips: the first to meet our daughter, the second to bring her home. 

Seven years ago, God began planting a seed into our hearts. It was a seed that grew from visiting India, to sponsoring a child in India, to praying for the people of India. God is continuing to water that seed by giving us the unbelievable opportunity to bring a daughter into our lives from this amazing country. 

We are thankful that you are taking this journey with us. The bumps and the turns can be nauseating at times, but we keep our eyes on Him and continue to trust in His goodness and faithfulness.

Until next Monday,

love: Kate, Steve & Dima

Sovereign Over Us

I don't know if everyone is like this, but it seems like I constantly have a song running through the back alleys of my mind. It is usually fitting to the circumstances of my life. Maybe it's because growing up, I had a mom who could turn any word into a song. You would speak a sentence, and she always had a song right there ready to be belted out. It oftentimes would catch people off guard and they weren't quite sure what to do with it, but for me, it was normal. Where there's a story, there's a song. 

Over these past few weeks, there have been many songs making their way into the depths of my heart. These have been songs of Truth - of surrender, of desperation, of God's unfailing love and His faithfulness. Sometimes when my mind and heart have been too weary to even open up the Bible, He has brought His truth into my heart through the recollection of song. And He would meet me there, whether I wanted to be there or not. 

"Your plans are STILL to prosper

You have not forgotten us

You're with us in the fire and the flood

Faithful forever, perfect in Love

You are Sovereign over us

Even what the enemy means for evil,

You turn it for our good

You turn it for our good and for Your glory

Even in the valley You are faithful

You're working for our good

You're working for our good and for Your glory"

These words have found me in the lonely places of this journey. In those quiet moments where it is just me and my thoughts - where I try desperately to understand what He allows and why He allows it. 

As I have been emailing with my sister in law, who was recently diagnosed with breast cancer, I found myself saying to her, "When I try to figure out what God is doing, I can drive myself crazy. Because the truth is, these things (like cancer, infertility, sickness, adoption bans, corrupt governments) are not FROM Him. He is not doing them. Yes, He is allowing them. But they do not come from His hands. He is life, not death. He is for orphans, not against them. He is for truth, not corruption. He is for health, not sickness. So, instead we have to keep our eyes focused on what kind of beauty He can make from the ashes. It may not happen right away and it usually is not in the way we expect, but He is an expert in redemption. And His heart is to redeem this broken world." 

As I wrote this, and tried to allow my heart to meet her in the pain of her circumstances, I was reminded of this same truth for myself. That even what the enemy means for evil, HE is the master at turning it not just for His glory, but for our good. And that is the hope and promise we can rest in, find strength in, and  claim with confidence.

So, as we have asked for wisdom from God to show us not just where our daughter is, but where is He calling us to go, we feel like we are getting a clearer picture. His plans are still to prosper. He has not forgotten us. He has not forgotten our daughter. He has not forgotten the children who lie in orphanages all over this world with no hope for a future without adoption. And so we are ready to respond and move forward. We are ready to act in obedience to His calling. We look forward to telling you where that is very soon. We still have a few more details to set in place and phone calls to make, but I assure you, this is a story you will not want to miss. And we're still kind of in shock over His direction for our lives.  Faithful forever, perfect in love...You are Sovereign over us. 

Until next Monday, love, Steve, Kate and Dima

Pushing Uphill

I'm sitting in my living room on this cold, blustery day. The snow is falling and quickly laying a blanket of white on our yard. When I see snow come down this quickly, I'm instantly taken back to the day that we left for our second trip to bring our son home from Russia. There was a blizzard outside, the snow overnight reached to nearly a foot.

Our dear friends, Eric and Adrianne picked us up early in the morning to take us to the airport. We piled into their car with our luggage, our huge bundle of paperwork, money hidden all over our bodies, and a large plastic tube containing our X-rays for medical appointments in Russia.

As we pulled away, the car jerked forward and then stopped. The wheels spun in the snow. We were no longer moving. We got out, tried to push a little. Still spinning. After a couple of driver changes and some nervous laughs, we finally got the car going and off we went.

We made it to the onramp of the highway, which actually went uphill. The snow had fallen so quickly that the snow plows weren't even out yet. On our way up the ramp, the car stopped again. Wheels spinning. Complete stop. It seemed like there was no way up the hill. What should we do? This can't be happening.

After a few attempts of Eric trying to find a groove, we decided to get out and push again - on the highway. So, Steve and I got out of the car and began to put everything we had into getting this huge machine up the snow covered hill. I remember digging my feet into the snow and just pushing and running in place with all that I had.

Tears streamed down my face as I yelled out loud, "We are NOT going to be stopped!! I am going to get my baby! Nothing is going to stop us!" Slowly our running in place turned into some movement and we soon found ourselves actually running as we were pushing. We ran ahead, quickly opened the car doors and hopped in while the car was moving forward. We made it. We got in the car and laughed and cried as we recounted those crazy moments we just experienced together.

It's hard to describe the feelings that came into my heart. It was a fighter's spirit - not letting anything stand in the way. We were pressing ahead and pushing through every obstacle, to bring our son into our family. And not even the snow storm of the century was going to keep us from our child.

That is, in a way, how I feel right now. That fighter spirit is starting to re-kindle in my heart. I'm ready to push through and keep chasing after this adoption dream God has placed in us. I believe that as much as God's heart is for adoption, there is a power at work against it.

The enemy comes to "seek, kill and destroy". He comes to destroy our passion and calling by making things difficult. He comes to kill hopes by whispering lies into our minds and hearts that "we aren't cut out to be parents again." We don't know where our daughter is or when she will come into our home, but I imagine being behind that car and in the face of the enemy, claiming victory and hope even amidst the impossible.

The Russian ban against Americans adopting has caused us to go back to the drawing board and pray through every option. A few have asked if we are considering domestic adoption. We are leaving no stone unturned and asking God to give us wisdom. We believe that adoption is a personal decision for every family and every family is called and directed to children who need homes. But in many ways adoption is a calling.

We have close friends who are missionaries in the middle east. They felt called to serve and love people in that country. I'm sure if we asked them, they would never say the reason they are missionaries there is because there are no needs in America. For their family, as they prayed and asked God to use their lives however and wherever He desires, He led them to the middle east. He put love in their hearts for these people, He gave them a desire to know more about and engage in their culture. And so they went. They left all that was familiar and responded to God's calling on their life.

In a similar way, as we have asked God to show us what it looks like to grow our family, it seems like He keeps drawing us and compelling us towards international adoption.  For our first child, He led us to Russia. And now, we wait for Him to direct us to our daughter. We absolutely believe there are many children in need of homes here in America. And as you read this, if that statement stirs something in your heart, I wonder what God would like to do through your family. Maybe He is calling you to adopt a child in the foster care system here in the states. For us, it is no longer about having another child; it is about believing that we have more love to offer a child who is need of a family.

So, as we ask God to lead us, we believe He will lead us to our daughter. And she will bring new life into our home as our home brings new life to her.

PRAYER REQUESTS:

• We have another conference call with the US Department of State on Tuesday afternoon to hear if there are any updates on the situation. Pray that there is clarity and a definitive answer for those of us who are figuring out what this ban means.
• We are still asking God for wisdom to knit our hearts together before we move forward and officially begin the process in a new country. This is a decision we don't take lightly. And as we talk through the implications of changing countries, we are asking God to show us His will and give us His wisdom as we make these steps.
• We pray for the little girl that we will adopt - wherever she is. That God would protect her and keep her safe and loved.

Until next Monday,
love: Kate, Steve & Dima

Not finished

About a year after Dima came into our lives, we finally settled in to a good routine. That's when the  thought of "we're not finished" came into our minds and hearts. 

So Steve and I began to pray and ask God for wisdom over the possibility of pursuing a second adoption. This was obviously not something we wanted to jump into quickly. 

We had to pray through the financial roadblocks, how the travel would affect our son, the time frame to complete the adoption, as well as the complicated details of bringing another child into our home, hearts and lives. 

We prayed. We fasted. We spent hours on the phone with different adoption agencies. Since we feel called to international adoption, we poured over the countries that allowed adoption and prayed through each one. 

After about a year and half of thinking, praying, and seeking advice, we decided that it was time. We brought every "what if" to God in prayer...

• What if we don't raise enough money? 
• What if our wait time is extremely long again? 
• What if our wait time is extremely short? 
• What if Dima has no desire to be a big brother?

The one "what if" we never considered was: what if Russia closes their doors to adoption? Not once. 

We know that there is tremendous uncertainty with ANY adoption - domestic or international. As for dealing with Russia, the all too true quote was "the only thing predictable about Russia is it's unpredictability." We thought there may be bumps along the way, but we never thought that an adoption ban would ever occur. 

So, we are blind-sided to say the least. 

As with many of you who are following this journey with us, we are watching the news each day. One report will say that the ban has been lifted. Others say it will be lifted for those who have already been to court. Still other reports suggest that the ban is in full force. 

Last Friday, we had a conference call with the U.S. Department of State, along with hundreds of other families who find themselves in our position. What we learned from that call wasn't much. Very little information is available at this time. We are in uncharted waters. 

At this point, we are hopeful that there will be exceptions made for those 46 families who have met their children and have been to court. I'm praying that an exception will be made even for those hundreds of families who have met their children, but have not yet had court. As for us however, with where we are in the process, there is not much of a chance of our adoption pushing through. 

So, where does that leave us? There is a big part of me that wants to toss up my hands and surrender to the difficulty. Life is good now. We have a son that we absolutely love. We live in a comfortable home. It just feels easier to take this roadblock and bow to it. But the easy choice is often not the right choice. And as I think and pray and cry out to God, I still have a deep sense in my spirit that says, "I'm not finished". 

As I was reading the Bible a few days ago, I came across this verse. I like to picture "The Biggest Loser" personal trainer, Jillian Michaels, screaming this into my face in a motivating way...

"We are pressed on every side by troubles, but we are NOT crushed.

We are perplexed (confused, frustrated), but NOT driven to despair.

We are hunted down, but NEVER abandoned by God.

We get knocked down, but we are NOT destroyed"

I felt like God was speaking these words right to me. 

"Katie girl, You've been knocked down. But you are not destroyed. This dream and desire to bring new life to a child has been pressed on every side...but it is NOT crushed. Get up. Embrace the fear and move forward with strength in MY power"

So, we pick up this crumbled up, weathered up dream and lay it down at  God's feet.

Last week, we said there were 3 countries that we were seriously thinking about. Well, after some conversations with our agency, we have learned that 2 of those countries are not options for us. Instead we've been given new options. 

We are praying for much wisdom. Many of these options would bring very new and unique dimensions to our family. 

I want to act quickly and deal with those details later. Steve is more of the type of person who likes to think through the details first and then make a decision. So, we are, as a couple asking you to pray alongside us. For wisdom. For unity. For clear direction from God. We really need it.

One thing we believe to be true is that God is not finished. There are hundreds of thousands of orphans in this world who need a mom and dad. And we are a family that passionately desires to bring new life to a child. But what that means, what that looks like, we just don't know yet. 

Thank you for your prayers. We could not do this without you. Thank you for walking alongside us. I thought we were in the "boring part" of the process. It seems God has other plans. 

Until next Monday,

love: Kate, Steve & Dima

Paka Russia

I will never forget the day that we said goodbye to Dima's birthplace.

We had just spent an entire month in a small town outside of St. Petersburg, Russia. We stayed with a wonderful woman, Ludmila, along with her husband the whole time we were there. She graciously cooked every meal for us, ranging from homemade borscht, blinis, and even a hamburger with fries to give us a taste of home.

We laughed together, watched the Olympics together, celebrated 2 national holidays together.  She was our translator and was with us the first moment we ever met eyes with our son. She was the first person to tell Dima in his native language who we were: "mama and papa". When we brought Dima out of the orphanage, she was the one who spoke the phrase that is forever etched in our hearts, "this is the door to a new life".

Every morning, we would go visit the orphanage, we would be picked up by a wonderful man, Vladimir. For the week that I was alone in Russia, he would pick Ludmila and I up and always have a pillow in the backseat for me to rest on for the hour long drive to the orphanage. And he would always slip me 2 chocolates. One for me and one to bring up to Dima.

Our hearts were knit together by these monumental days in my life. As Ludmila and Vladimir dropped us off at the train station, to leave the quaint little town and take the overnight train ride to Moscow, Steve and I sat with our son in our little compartment and we wept.

The emotions hit us unexpectedly. We didn't anticipate sadness during this time - we thought we would be so excited to be one step closer to home. But, we were leaving Dima's birthplace, along with a piece of our hearts. As we watched out the window, our 2 dear friends slowly moved out of sight and we said, "paka", which means "goodbye."

I have a similar feeling in my heart right now. We are saying "paka."

Paka to the dream of having a daughter who shares heritage with her brother.
Paka to the place we thought we would hold our little girl.
Paka to the country God placed on our hearts at the beginning of this second adoption journey.

We look out the window as this train slowly chugs away from what we thought life would look like. And it is sad.

But in this sadness, there is also a glimmer a hope.

For two years, we prayed for God to give us wisdom as to when to start our next adoption. And we believe whole-heartedly that He was leading us to begin when we did. So I have to believe that though this ban did not come from God, He was not unaware of the timing of it all for our lives.

I have to believe that He is using this as a railroad switch. We are still on the train, just headed down a new path. Where does that path lead? We don't yet know. But we are confident that God knows...and as we put one foot in front of the other, we believe He will make His plan for our lives and our family clear, even through the confusion.

Steve spoke to our high school students this past Sunday about "strength in the storms". As he spoke about our own story and what is happening in our lives, he brought us to this truth: "God never promised to walk us around the storms, He promised to walk us through them."

That is where we can put our rest and our faith. We feel Him walking through this storm with us. We feel it in the depths of our souls. We also feel it through your encouragement. So we walk with boldness and trust that He will be with us every step of the way.

Though we are saying goodbye to Russia for our second adoption, Russia will always be a fundamental piece of our family's story. We desire to honor this country and speak of the wonderful memories we have there. It has been very easy the past few days to have so much anger toward the situation that is going on. There is a part of us that just wants to turn our backs on this country.

But then we look into the face of our sweet boy. Those big almond brown eyes and round face. And we bring our anger to God and ask Him to deal justly with the evil that goes on in this world. Then we continue to celebrate and take pride in that beautiful land, knowing full well that one government never fully represents the people of it's country.

So...where are we in the process now? Honestly, we really don't know.

There are not many answers that are available. Mostly because today is the day that Russians celebrate Christmas. So, their government is on holiday until the 9th of January. What is still fuzzy is what the implementation of the adoption ban will look like.

There are rumors that exceptions will be made for those families that have already been to court. Other rumors say the exceptions will be for families who have met their children already and still others say it may include families like us - whose paperwork has been registered in the country and are awaiting a referral.

After a long conversation today with our agency and much prayer over the past couple of weeks, we have decided to pursue an adoption from a different country. We will keep our paperwork in Russia and if for whatever reason, over the next month, something drastically changes, we can continue our adoption from there. But we want to begin the new process right away.

No matter which country we choose, we are looking at at least a year from right now before the completion of an adoption. So we want to get the ball rolling. There are 3 countries we are strongly considering and praying through. And we hope to make the decision and let you all know in the next week or so.

Thank you again for walking this rocky road with us. Despite all the setbacks my heart remains full and I am so deeply encouraged. I have received so many messages, emails, and letters in the mail with words of encouragement and prayers. I hold them tightly to my chest and use them as reminders of how God shows His love for us through His people.

Even after the announcement of the adoption ban was made, we received a check in the mail from a dear friend who is battling cancer. We received another check from a special family friend. Thank you for trusting us and believing that we WILL bring our daughter home...as soon as we find out where she is.

So we say Paka to Russia - and Hello to a new adventure.

Until next Monday,
love: Kate, Steve & Dima

In the wake of the headlines

A couple of weeks ago, we were able to host a sweet couple named Dima and Maria, who are on their way to becoming missionaries in Eastern Europe. Dima, came to the U.S. from Russia when he was a teenager. We knew him when he first came to the states and have been privileged to see what God is doing with his amazing gifts, talents and knowledge.

He met his beautiful wife, Maria, who just moved to the States from Ukraine over this last year. They are an amazing couple. We spent the evening talking about Eastern European culture and they were able to give us so much insight into our son and future daughter. Their visit was just 1 week before the adoption ban was signed into law.

Dima and "big Dima"

Over the course of our many conversations, the subject of orphan care in Russia came up. Dima and Maria were able to share very interesting perspectives. We have heard the staggering statistics about children who grow up in the orphanage system and how so few of them can really make it in the "real world". So many of them are forced into human trafficking, prostitution, drug abuse or gang life. Many don't even make it to age 30 or ever form a family. I've always been so disturbed by these statistics, and these numbers have been a huge part of what stirred our hearts to adopt from Russia. But, I never fully connected the dots as to why there is such little success for these orphans?

Dima and Maria explained to us that there is one major difference between culture in the U.S. and the Russian culture. For the typical American, there is a process of going to school, going to college and then applying for jobs. To get a job, you compose a resume, then interview with prospective employees. If all goes well and your references check out, you usually get the job.

In Russia, they told us, the thought of resumes and blindly approaching a job is very atypical. It is mostly about who you know, or who your family members are. It is all about connection. In many ways, it is a beautiful system. It is based on relationships and trust. For the typical Russian child, there is comfort knowing that they will be able to get their foot in the door with a family member's business or trade.

But, what about the orphan?

The orphan leaves the institution usually around the age of 16, with a less than ideal education. But even more than that, they have no connections. They don't have parents and siblings and uncles and brothers who could get them in to their trade. If they did, they would probably not have ended up in the orphanage in the first place.

The orphanage system runs counter cultural to the way Russian society is set up. The orphan is sent out into the world, nameless, jobless, with few resources and even fewer connections. They are often sought out by those who prey on the vulnerable - the pimp who will give them a name or the drug lord who will give them a job; money in their pocket, at the cost of their soul.

So as the news began to go public regarding the adoption ban against American families, then ultimately being signed into law by President Putin on Friday, the image of the orphan with no connections is where my heart landed. And what brings me to tears, what stops me in my tracks, is the image I have of my son. He was an orphan, headed down the path towards being one of the "statistics".

Part of the way international adoption is set up in Russia is that in order for a child to be available to U.S. families, the child must first be available for domestic adoption (within Russia) for 9 months. Russian families are given the first chance to adopt.

But if the child goes 9 months without being adopted by Russian families, THEN they are available to American families. So we cannot simply say "someone else will adopt them". (This is true for some but not for most). The children Americans were allowed to adopt were the "unwanted orphans". Even saying these words leaves a lump in my throat and tears stop me from typing....because I look at my child - my sweet, hilarious, smart, kind, full-of-life little boy and wonder, "how could anyone have passed him over?"

Then I think about a little girl. This little girl who may be passed over by Russian families now has no chance of ever being adopted by us. She will sit in the orphanage and her chances of having a thriving life filled with joy and freedom will be decimated. All because of politics.

So, where do we go from here?

On Thursday night, we will have a webinar with our agency to discuss our next steps. There are many other countries our agency works with and we will have to look at our financial loss and determine how to best proceed. We are still considered "in process" and there is a small shred of hope that there may be some sort of grandfather clause for those families who are already in the process of adoption. But, that seems highly unlikely at this point.

This has been a painful season for our family. Our hearts are sad. It feels, in many ways, like another loss in our journey towards parenthood. My mind and heart are battling lies of "maybe you just aren't meant to be a mom. You can't get pregnant. And now you can't even adopt." I know these are lies, but they speak loudly, especially to my weary heart.

We appreciate your prayers and words of encouragement. It's been great seeing our high school students wearing their "team garcia" t-shirts and offering up prayers on our behalf. This has deeply ministered to our hearts. Your emails, messages, texts, and phone calls have been a balm to my soul.  Your words have sustained us through this season of loss.

Thank you for walking through this with us. We are going to be ok. We will persevere until our daughter comes home.We are picking up the pieces of our crumbled adoption and asking God to take what we have and lead us to our daughter. And we believe He will.

So now we wait until He shows us where she is.

Until next Monday,
love: Kate, Steve & Dima.