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.

In the headlines...

A couple of weeks ago, as I was reading the news, I came across an article about a new ban that was going to be placed on American families adopting children from Russia. My heart skipped a beat, but I really didn't think much of it.

During our first adoption, news came out that adoptions were being threatened. My heart was filled with fear. I checked the news every 5 minutes and I was grieved over the thought that our adoption may fall through. A few weeks went by and we got through Christmas and January and nothing really changed with adoptions. I learned that the Russia/US relationship is pretty shaky, and adoptions are oftentimes threatened with this kind of news, but rarely does anything come of it.

So, fast forward three Christmases. We sit here in the same season we were in three years ago...adoptions to Russia are being threatened again. Over the last 2 weeks, a bill has been written up by the Russian lawmakers to ban adoptions from U.S. families. It passed through the lower level of government with a huge majority. A few days later, it passed through the next level. And just today, it passed through the upper level of the Russian parliament with a unanimous vote. The only thing that is left before it comes into a reality is a signature from President Putin.

I am, by no means a politician. I did not do well in social studies when I was in school and I have never really had strong interest in government and politics. I do not want to oversimplify the complicated facets of international relations with regard to politics. But this much I know:

• The U.S. passed a bill that calls for sanctions against Russians who are deemed to be violating human rights
• In response, the Russian government wrote up a bill that includes the ban of U.S. families adopting from Russia
• This bill has overwhelmingly passed through all of the levels of the Russian parliament (think senate)

I honestly don't think there is anyone to blame through all of this and truly, I don't even know what the right or wrong response should be. If this bill does pass, maybe it will be a chance for Russia to assess their child welfare system and make improvements. Maybe it will allow non-American families to adopt more children since the U.S. is not the only country that adopts from Russia. Maybe this bill will be the catalyst for America and Russia to take steps towards peace and reconciliation. It may have to get messy before it gets better.

But in all of this, my heart is sad for us. We have prayed hard, worked hard, and believed that our daughter is in Russia. If this bill passes, we will have to look at our financial losses and pray for a new path that leads to our daughter. We are not giving up. We believe that God does have a daughter for us somewhere in this world...and we believe it will be a little girl who will come from a situation that seems hopeless without the intervention of a loving family..and this may be the sharp, painful turn that leads us to her. In many ways, it feels like another negative pregnancy test, or a miscarriage. We have come so far in our journey to our little girl. We have prayed for her, thought about her, planned for her, talked about her with Dima...and now, we may have to go back to square one.

There are an estimated 80,000 children in Russian orphanages. And though there are many wonderful Russian families and families from other countries who adopt these children, the U.S. does account for a large chunk of giving these children homes and families. My heart is sad for these children who are going about their lives like they always do, having no idea that a "could be family" will not be because of two governments that can not get along.

"Children get frozen in the cold war", is a sign that one brave Russian held outside the parliament building yesterday. She was detained, along with others who joined in the protest. I received an email from a Russian friend who apologized on behalf of his country. I stay in touch with the kind and wonderful director from Dima's orphanage. And my heart will always be connected with the dear woman who housed us, fed us, translated for us, and loved us while we were in Russia. There are many, many Russians who care for children and know that international adoptions are one of the ways that the orphans in Russia can be cared for.

So we are left with all that there is to do: we pray. We pray for clarity and understanding among law makers and government officials - both here in the U.S. as well as in Russia. We pray for peace. But mostly, we pray for the children, that even through this chaos, they will somehow find a family that will love and care for them.

My dear friend, Jenna, has set up an event on Facebook to pray for this situation. Her hope is to have prayer happening around the clock until there is some type of resolution. If you would like to sign up for a time slot to pray or just join this group to share your encouragement, click HERE.

This is the roller coaster journey we have signed up for. We knew it would not be easy. We knew there would be bumps along the way. We knew that we would get to places along the path where we would feel completely stripped of all control or understanding.

We are in one of those places right now.

We want to walk through this with boldness and confidence that God has the whole world in his hands, that His heart deeply cares for orphans and those who have no one to advocate on their behalf. He is their advocate. We believe He can change hearts and minds. This is our prayer.

Thank you for praying and walking this road with us. There is no promise it will be easy. There is no promise it will turn out in the way we want. But there is absolute promise that God goes before us, that He comes behind us and that He hems us in. There is absolute promise that He is close to the broken hearted. There is absolute promise that He gives peace that passes all understanding.

We rest in those promises while the chaos of this broken world shatters around us.

Until next Monday,
love, Kate, Steve & Dima

Sit Back and Enjoy the Flight

I am not a fan of flying.

There are many reasons, most of all of them completely irrational, but they exist and it is a matter of discipline for me to step on to an airplane, buckle myself in, and "sit back and enjoy the flight." This is the part where I chuckle to myself and think how I neither sit back nor enjoy any part of any flight.

If you've ever flown internationally or a long domestic flight, you know there is a certain schedule to it all. There's the take off: a rush of excitement followed by a "ding" letting the flight attendants everything is going according to plan.

Minutes later there is another ding where the pilot comes on the speakers telling us all it is now ok to turn on electronic devices. If he's a friendly pilot, he'll tell us about the weather at the destination and if he's really good, he'll tell us the route and what we will be passing over. (thank you, friendly pilots!)

A few minutes after that, the fasten seatbelt light turns off, we are told it is "safe to move about the cabin", and we're reminded to keep our seat belts fastened in case of unexpected turbulence.

Then the flight attendants emerge with drink and food carts. I watch them approach each row, handing out diet cokes and cranberry juices. We eat, throw our trash away and then about 2 hours into the flight...all activity ceases. Food service is over, people begin to settle in with a book or an inflight movie or a 6 hour game of bejeweled. They may pop a nyquil and snuggle up to the shoulder of the stranger next to them or begin to blow air into their handy dandy neck pillow. And this, for me, is where the most tortuous part of the plan ride begins. In the nothingness. In the silence.

I have loved the entertainment of the last 2 hours - I can see the action and the flight attendants working hard to meet all of our needs. Their visible work somehow represents to me that the pilots are working hard too. But, when they disappear into their little curtained off area and I see no movement about the cabin, I start to fear. (Irrational, yes...I know...trust me, I know).

When I DON'T see action, I question if anything is happening. I feel a bump along the way and I try to peek ahead through the dark aisles but all I see if a big, securely locked metal door. What is happening behind that door? What are the pilots doing? Are they asleep? Did they feel that bump? If I could just see behind that door...

And that is where we are in the adoption process right now. The "action" has subsided. Our paperwork is all in. Now we wait. In silence. There is nothing more to do. And this is when it is easy for the fear to kick in. This is when my mind starts to wander into the "what if's". What if our paperwork somehow got lost along the away, or accidentally buried underneath a pile of more important paperwork?

When I don't feel the action of the process, I often question if things are still moving.

Ultimately, this whole issue I have about airplanes and paperwork roots back to a fundamental belief about God. Do I trust Him? Do I trust that even when I don't see or if I am not a part of the pieces and parts moving, that pieces and parts are still moving? And not just moving at random, but in His goodness and Divine story for our lives, and for the life of our little girl. Sometimes silence and waiting are a part of the purpose.

I like things that are seen. Tangible things I can hold in my hands. But, God brings me back to this beautiful and mind-bending truth: "So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."

It goes against my nature to sit in row 38F, close my eyes, and rest in the silence of an airplane, trusting that the pilot is working hard on our behalf, even though I may never see him.

And it goes against my nature to sit in my home and find joy with our family of 3, without constantly worrying and wondering if "they" are doing their part to bring our little girl home.

And it goes against my nature to sit in God's presence and rest...and to fix my eyes on the unseen. To trust in His goodness and story He is writing in and through our family's life.

But, it is what He asks of us..and it is for our good. Thank you for sitting in this row with us. For waiting in the silence and holding our hands along the journey. It's a lonely one at times, filled with many more questions than answers. But we are grateful God has given us so many people who encourage us with their words, their prayers, and their financial support. We truly could not do this without you!

So I'm going to try my hardest to sit back and enjoy the ride.

UPDATES:

• Waiting. We are coming upon Russia's big holiday month in January. 
• Therefore, referrals really slow down at this time due to holiday schedules. Thankfully, we know that and don't expect to hear much these next couple of months.

PRAYER REQUESTS:

• For our little girl. That she would be loved, cared for, treated uniquely.
• That her orphanage would do something special this month for Christmas and the New Year
• For our hearts as we wait and go through this holiday season with her in our hearts, but not in our home

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

Abundant Life

In the history of blog writing, I have never skipped a week of writing a blog, let alone 2 weeks. As I wrote in my last entry, my mom has been diagnosed with stage 3 melanoma cancer. It has been a whirlwind! What appeared as an enlarged lymph node from an infection that needed to be removed quickly turned into a phone call reporting the findings of metastatic melanoma in her lymph node. My heart and mind just sort of stood still. 

As I thought about writing a blog, nothing in the adoption process would come to me that seemed significant compared to what was going on in my heart as I was processing what it means that my mom has cancer. We took a spur of the moment trip to visit her and help (as best we could) as she recovered from surgery.  We were able to have “in person” talks about the future. From North Carolina, Steve and 2 others from The Chapel, left for 2 weeks to teach at a Pastor’s Conference in India. It's amazing what can happen in just a couple of weeks!

Part of the follow up with my mom's cancer is making decisions regarding further treatment. She sat in the doctors’ office with my dad and brother (while my brother texted me every detail along the way)...and the options were laid before her.  I won't go in to all of the details of the options, side effects, percentages, etc. but in the end, she has chosen the option to do no further treatment and to continue on with a healthy lifestyle. As she and I talked it through on the phone and she explained to me her heart, the words that kept coming back to me were "abundant life". Now, I know that every cancer is different, every story is different, and every drug affects people differently.  In no way do I feel that the choice she has made is right for everyone, but for my mom and her story, she is choosing to live the rest of her life in abundance… to the full...for however long that may be. We all have such a peace in the decision.

And as the words "abundant life" came to me in reference to my mom, it reminded me that those were the same words God placed on my heart about 7 years ago. Steve and I decided to part ways with the medical route towards becoming parents. Prior to that, in our effort to have a child, biologically, we had journeyed a rough couple of years filled with lots of medication and doctor’s appointments.  My moods were completely unpredictable. My thoughts were consumed with getting pregnant. My calendar revolved around ovulation. My feelings were like shifting shadows - happy and hope filled at a doctor's promise of "getting us pregnant" and deeply saddened and frustrated when that same doctor told me I was pregnant, only to find out hours later that he was mistaken. Even though I didn't want "pregnancy" to become my everything, the medical path we were choosing forced us to. Doctors appointments multiple times a week and medications to be administered at specific times of certain days made us have to think about it at all times.

I remember a day when I was just crying out to God. I was so frustrated about who I was becoming. When was the last time I had laughed? Or experienced true joy? When was the last month I had just enjoyed?  As I was praying, this verse came to my mind...

"The thief (the enemy) has come to steal and kill and destroy, but I (Jesus) have come so that you can have abundant life - life to the full." (John 10:10)

It was as if God was gently and graciously asking me, "How would you define your life right now? Are you experiencing this 'life to the full' I have for you?" And in that moment I had to say “no”. I was living a life robbed of joy, a life that was on a course to destruction. At that point, Steve and I made the decision to no longer take the medical path towards parenthood. It made no sense to our doctor; he was frustrated because he felt like there was "more he could do". Even friends didn't quite understand. But there was a peace deep in my heart as we made that decision. I was getting my life back...abundant life. It was no longer about getting pregnant, it was about becoming the woman God wanted me to be. And as we sacrificed the dream of bringing life into this world in a biological way, God, the Ultimate Story Teller, was preparing us for our little boy. A little boy who had physical life, but needed to be able to experience life to the full. God is so creative...my surrender to barrenness actually led us down a path of life. 

And so, here we are, in the process of bringing home our daughter. This time around, my heart is filled with joy and anticipation, knowing what it is like to bring a child into our family. I can't wait to tell her about the story God has written to form our family. I can't wait for her to see the beauty of our God that turns loss into gain…pain into joy…fear into rest…death into life...Abundant Life.

UPDATES:
-We just received a document in the mail that officially states we have been approved by the US government to adopt. That was the final piece of paperwork we were waiting on for this phase of the journey.
-We continue to receive kind and generous gifts - even amidst the busy-ness of the Christmas season. We are so thankful!

PRAYER REQUESTS:
-Please pray for wisdom for those who are making decision concerning our referral - that we would be matched with the perfect child for our family.
-Pray for our little girl as it gets colder...that she would be in an orphanage with working heat, that she would be bundled up and warm and hugged extra.

Until next Monday, love, Steve, Kate and Dima

Snapshots of Passport to Always

A few months ago, my dear friend Rachel came up with the idea of putting together a big fundraiser to raise money for our adoption. She and her husband are youth leaders at our church. Her dream for this event was for it to be big and for it to provide an opportunity for high schoolers to be involved.

A small group of us met every couple of weeks in her home to dream, plan, and pray for what this day would look like. We spent hours of time and energy asking for donations, coordinating details, and enlisting the help of student and adult volunteers. It was a massive undertaking. We decided to set the date for November 10th and called it "Passport to Always." We wanted the name to be a beautiful picture of the journey our little girl will go on to join our family, along with the journey we'll go on to bring her home...for always.

The week finally came.

Every day I would hear of new donations that were being given for the silent auction: everything from spa packages to date nights to free car washes for a year to beautiful, imported Russian toys. Every day I would hear of new baked items that were being made for the bake sale: Cake pops and pumpkin rolls, biscotti and all kinds of cookies...lovingly baked by friends and people I have never met! Hours and days had been spent on beautiful handmade items like wreaths, coffee mugs, baby blankets and lamps.

My parents were able to come up from North Carolina for the week leading up to the fundraiser. My mom and I spent the days shopping for the event and working on last minute details.

The night before the event, we went to the church to load up all of the donations that were being stored there. Upon arrival we saw our good friends, Eric, Adrianne and Ashley working hard late into the night to make this big event special.

We arrived very early at the venue on Saturday morning and there were already people there setting up, sweeping, mopping, moving tables, and decorating the room. To look around and see my mom behind the concession counter, my dad unloading people's cars and my closest friends carefully placing each donation item on the tables was overwhelmingly beautiful.

As the start time inched closer, last minute donations found their way into the room. A parent of one of our high school student dropped off 15 beautifully decorated cakes from a local bakery. And high school students started spilling in to give of their time as child care workers, parking attendants, grillers, and concession workers.

Finally the doors opened, the event began and people started to come.

The silent auction table surrounded by vendors

Team Garcia shirt designed by a high school student

As I looked around the room, I took mental snapshots of moments that I will store in my heart forever. I saw two middle school girls, joyfully handing out hotdogs and nachos...both girls were adopted from Russia years ago. As I saw their hard work and their joy as they served, I was inspired and so proud of who these beautiful young women have become...and I wonder, will my daughter look like one of those girls (I sure hope so :)). Their faces brought a beautiful reality to the day for me.

Another snapshot was looking at my dear friend, Rachel who planned and dreamed up this event months ago, waddling (and I say that with as much love as possible) around, 9 1/2 months pregnant. We wondered if she would actually have her baby AT the fundraiser. What love and sacrifice! I can only imagine how exhausted she was, but she served all the way until the end with joy and love.

One of the vendors who was selling homemade baby items, handed me a rolled up stack of money at the end of the day with tears in her eyes. She spent a majority of her day, serving us and helping us bring our daughter home. We hugged and I thanked her with tears in my eyes as I thought of the many sacrifices of the countless people who came together for this day. For this cause.

I came home to a message she had written me,

"it was such a privilege to help in your fundraiser this afternoon. it brings tears to my eyes to think of a sweet little girl who will soon be so lucky to have you and Steve as parents. It makes me even more emotional watching you, as a mother fight so hard for your daughter and knowing you cannot wait for the day when you hold her safe in your arms." 

But the reality is, anyone would fight for their own child. What is most amazing to me, was to see the hundreds of people who came together to work so hard for someone ELSE'S child. That is something I will hold in my heart.

Finally, a precious snapshot I have was seeing my mom. Just a couple of weeks ago, after this fundraiser was already planned, she was diagnosed with cancer. And though it would have been totally understandable for her to not even make the trip up to North Carolina this week, she came anyway. And she worked so hard and gave so much. She was being her normal self - laughing and talking and making people feel good - all the while, knowing that she was going to come back to her home just days later to face a tough surgery and an unknown future.  

And to see my dad, following Dima around all day, buying him an endless amount of cake pops and working hard moving tables and cleaning up - being his normal self - all the while, knowing he was feeling the uncertainty and stress of what was to come for his wife. Grandparents, hard at work, giving of themselves to bring their grandchild home, even in the midst of their own pain. That memory will be forever melded into my heart.

My mom working the concession stand

My dad sharing a hot dog with Dima

It was a day I will never forget..for many reasons. 

I can't put into words my gratitude and as I'm writing even now, I'm realizing I haven't even mentioned how much money was raised. Because for me, the blessing of this day was about watching and being a part of a beautiful community coming together for a bigger cause. The beauty of family and close friends loving us and sacrificing for us and working so hard to help bring our little girl home. That is what stands out in my mind...but if you're wondering...we are $5000 closer to bringing our little girl home. Wow. Is God amazing or what?

UPDATES:

• I am hoping to go up to Cleveland this week to redo my fingerprints. Steve will practice pushing my thumb down on a table Tuesday night and if it doesn't break open, I will head to Homeland Security Wednesday morning.
• We found out this week that there are some issues with our home study that need to be resolved before we can move forward. This is not an issue with Russia, but the U.S. government who is approving our home study. We hope to resolve this tomorrow.
• I was hoping that one of our high school students, Sydney, would have been able to help at the fundraiser...but she was busy doing something else. On the same day, her public high school was having a craft fair of their own and she and a group from her school's Key Club were selling homemade jewelry to give the proceeds to..our adoption. Wow, I'm just so overwhelmed to see people of all ages using the gifts and talents God has given them to help bring our daughter home. Thank you Sydney and Ellet High School Key Club!

PRAYER:

• Please continue to pray for the details of paperwork and fingerprints. They are a tedious part of this process and so much of it is out of our control. Please pray we would find favor with the officer who is in charge of approving our home study.
• Please pray for our little girl who we believe is in fact born already. Pray she is getting special, one on one attention from whoever she is with right now.
• Pray for us as we wait and trust in God's timing through this process.

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

Our Birth Story

As I was scrolling through my facebook newsfeed this past week, checking out halloween pictures and political rants, I came across a question that stopped me in my tracks.
  

"Is adoption the answer for infertility, or is infertility the answer for orphans?"

I read this question over and over again. It struck me and convicted me and inspired me. I've had similar thoughts over the past few years as my passion for orphan care has grown. I've often wondered, would I care this much about orphans if infertility was NOT a part of my story?

About eight years ago, I was sitting around a living room playing a board game with friends. It was one of those games where a hypothetical question was asked and you had to guess who answered the question in what way. One question posed was, "what is the worst thing you could ever tell your husband?" One of the girls answered, "That I can't have children". 

In that moment, it felt as if my heart stopped. The past few weeks prior to this game had been spent in fertility clinics and the reality of my infertility was slowly beginning to set in. The girl who made this statement had no idea what was going on in my life and the truth was, her answer was also my answer...except for the fact that in my life this wasn't a game.

Up until now, I have never experienced more pain than going through the grief process of infertility. It shook me to my core. It has forced me to question true womanhood, God's goodness, obedience, blessing, and why God doesn't always answer prayers the way we want Him to. The loss of my dream of what I imagined life would be was a long and painful death.  

I really don't like the phrase, "everything happens for a reason." It slaps a quick fix, cop-out answer to the hard things of life. Instead, what I have come to believe about the way God works is that He takes ashes and turns them into beauty...if we let Him. So, please don't hear me wrongly. I absolutely do not believe that God GAVE me infertility. He is the giver of life, He is the giver of good things. Every good and perfect gift comes from his hand. Infertility does not fit in that category. 

But, I do absolutely believe that God takes the pain, brokenness, and barenness of this world and brings healing, restoration, and life. Had it not been for infertility, I can honestly (and shamefully) say, I don't know if I would care for orphans like I do today. 

I would read verses like James 1:27, "Pure and genuine religion in the sight of God means caring for orphans and widows in their distress..." and say, "wow, that seems hard. If I knew an orphan, I would surely help them." But to seek out orphans to bring into my home, I just don't think I would. I wish that sentence were different. 

But as God tended to my heart during those excrutiating months and years of fertility treatments and the heart wrenching pain of seeing multiple negative pregnancy tests, He began to birth in my heart a passion. A passion for the fatherless, a heart for children who, without adoption, would grow up living in cold institutions void of the security, love and strength of a family.

God has transformed my pain into a passion. He did not heal me of infertility or take away any of the pain. Instead, He gave me something fruitful to do with it. The birth of a CHILD was replaced with the birth of a CALLING.

Parenthood became no longer about me "getting to be a mom", but about a passion God had firmly rooted in my heart to give a name, a future, and a hope to an orphan. In my life, infertility was the answer for orphans. 

And these "orphans" are now my children. They bring me life. They give me hope and inspire me in their strength of heart. Something I thought I was doing for someone, in turn, has given me more joy than I could have ever have imagined. Isn't that how God works? He always out-gives. When we think we are doing something for Him, He always gives us back more than we could imagine. 

UPDATES:

• Unfortunately, our fingerprinting appointment had to get postponed (after traveling to Cleveland), when my injured thumb did not cooperate. We have to return when it is fully healed. Though I know it is just a minor set back, it is still frustrating!
• our HUGE FUNDRAISER is happening THIS SATURDAY from 12pm-3pm at First Glance in Akron. Please tell your friends and PLEASE RSVP on the facebook event page. It will really help as we plan for food! Click HERE to RSVP.

PRAYER REQUESTS:

• Please pray for our fundraiser on Saturday - that God would blow us away with His provision and that it would be fun and a great time to raise awareness for adoption.
• Please pray for our little girl. That she would be love and cared for, held during these cold months and treated uniquely.

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