tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28298210699119857362024-03-05T05:25:41.175-05:00apple pie & egg rollsJenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03682621608706042182noreply@blogger.comBlogger272125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829821069911985736.post-26375590752118558812015-12-15T22:22:00.002-05:002015-12-15T22:22:26.878-05:00Just another day?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">One of the greatest joys of parenting is joining our kids in all the excitement surrounding their birthday. The anticipation that builds before frantically ripping the wrapping paper off their gifts. The opportunity to stuff some cake and ice cream down while staying up past bedtime. Our kids love their birthdays and we love them too.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><br />Today my daughter turned 7 years old, which is hard for me to believe in a thousand different ways. But December 15th is not just another day marked on the Middleton Family calendar to celebrate. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><b>It's extra special. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Not because of memories we have of the moment the doctor handed our beautiful daughter into our loving arms. It isn't special because we are filled with joy as we remember bringing her home from the hospital or letting her older siblings hold her just a few hours after her birth. It isn't special because we can't believe how those first couple years of her life flew by as we smiled and watched her learn to sit up, crawl and then walk. Not because we laugh at all those sleepless nights of trying to get her feeding and sleeping schedule down while we listened attentively to a monitor in case she made the slightest sound.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">As a matter of fact, it's extra special because we missed all those things. Those and a million more during those first couple of years of her precious life. We missed December 15th, 2008 when she took her first breath. Her first scream. Her first tears. Her first smile and laugh. Oh what I would give to have been there to see her. I'd trade just about anything to have held her in those moments as she broke into this cold world. But we were here and she was there. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Of course it saddens us to think of the time we didn't have with our newborn daughter, but we still celebrate. Not just because it's her birthday. We all have one of those. No, we celebrate because of all the miracles that occurred on that day. A woman in China chose life. A family in America chose adoption. And an all knowing and wise God chose to make us a family.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">So here's to birthdays. The ones we missed and the ones to come.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">December 15th will never again be just another day. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">I love you Ry. Now let's eat some more cake.</span><br />
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vpirushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11589152860388138551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829821069911985736.post-75415881943397925022013-11-24T00:41:00.000-05:002013-11-24T01:06:01.682-05:00Why are my kids so unlucky?When people hear the story of our family's multiple adoptions they often come to two completely inaccurate assumptions:<br />
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1) Y'all are such good people to adopt these kids.</div>
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2) Your kids are so lucky.</div>
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The first misconception is easy to debunk. We are <i><b>NOT</b></i> good people. We are no more holy and no less sinful than the other folks that we brush shoulders with and pass on the street during the course of our day to day routines. What makes us different has nothing to do with our morality or "goodness." It's simply that we were made aware of something that many others have yet to discover: the world is literally overflowing with orphans....and we can do something about it.</div>
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But the second assumption has to be correct, right? Our kids are lucky. The youngest 50% of our brood were abandoned as infants and spent the first two years of their lives as institutionalized children fighting for attention in a Chinese orphanage. No possessions. No family. No name. They were burdened with special needs and inadequate medical care and a lack of needed therapies. Now they have been scooped up and brought to the land o' plenty, the good 'ol US of A. They have parents and siblings that love them. They have their own bed, their own stuff...even their own name. Now they see some of the best surgeons and therapists around. It's easy to see how as an outsider looking in, you could conclude these kids are LUCKY!</div>
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And in a moment of complete transparency...it's even tough for me as an adoptive father to not let this erroneous thought creep into the cracks of my brain on tough days. When my daughter loses control and lashes out over a seemingly insignificant event and can't channel her anger and frustration I have caught myself thinking, "She better count her blessings, she's one lucky kid." </div>
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But the truth is that the last word I would use to describe my two adopted kids is lucky. Why? Because they aren't. Yes they are blessed, just like you and me. But lucky? No. They were discarded. Unwanted and abandoned. Without a doubt their tiny lungs screamed as they were laid down and their respective birth families walked away. Usually, when a baby cries, their parents respond. But this time, no mother came running to retrieve them. No dad came swooping in to rock his baby back to sleep. They cried and no one came. We have reason to believe that both of our adopted children were not abandoned by their birth families without a sense of grief and remorse, but the truth remains that the men and women that brought these babies into the world walked away and didn't come back for them. That's something that sticks with you as you grow. It's not something that you forget or outgrow because these cool Americans came to "save" you and have given you fun toys and opportunities to succeed on the other side of the globe. </div>
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Eventually someone did hear their cries. Assigned names and housed in orphanages, they fell into a routine and thus, started the next portion of their lives as orphans. This was their new normal. All they knew was being a Chinese orphan. As hard as it may be for us to understand, they became comfortable in that role. But then their <i>luck</i> turned. There was a family that wanted them and wanted to call them their own. So these nearly two-year-old children were pulled from everything they knew, everything that was comfortable, and whisked to America. Everything changed. Certainly they grieved during this period of transition. They left all they knew behind and, for the second time in their short lives, the world flipped upside down.</div>
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My soon to be five year old daughter loves to look at pictures from China and examine the photos and broken bits of information we have from before she was officially ours. It's a completely normal and human thing to do. We all want to know where we came from. We want to know our story. We want to be counted among the lucky ones. She notices the countless videos we have from the early days of our two oldest kids and asks, "Where are my videos?" You can almost see the wheels in her tiny little head turning and computing....what happened to me? </div>
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Adoption is a long journey. Just like raising any child there are highs and lows, ups and downs. Good days and bad. I praise God that these two beautiful creations from Asia are mine. But the next time you may feel tempted to look at them (or any adopted child) and think, "Oh, how lucky....their lives could have been so painful," try to pause for a moment. Reflect on the hurt, the pain, the confusion and anger that comes from the string of bad luck they have faced. Then if you don't mind, we'd appreciate a quick prayer that their two very imperfect parents are constantly reminded of just how lucky we are to be their mom and dad.</div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"><i>"It's from the deepest wounds that beauty finds a place to bloom."</i></span></b></div>
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vpirushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11589152860388138551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829821069911985736.post-23630861528605883942013-03-26T00:15:00.000-04:002013-03-26T06:36:31.757-04:00I Still Gotcha<div>
Jude - </div>
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I can so vividly recall walking through alleys and stepping over puddles on the half-paved backstreets of Guangzhou. I was sweating, but that had more to do with anxious anticipation than the humid Chinese air. We hustled into an ordinary looking building, jumped on an elevator and came around a corner. There you were. Beautiful. Smiling. Wobbly on your feet. Playful. Perfect. My son.<br />
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A year ago today you entered our world and life instantly changed forever. Today we celebrate your "Gotcha Day" and I celebrate a year of being your Daddy. I cannot thank you enough for the joy you have brought into our home over the past twelve months. Your laugh, your expressive face, your incredibly lovable personality (and who can resist those dimples). It is hard for me to believe that just a little more than 300 days ago we had never met. I can not remember life before you and without question God matched us long before that day last March. </div>
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I praise Him for grafting you so seamlessly into our family. I thank Him for the way you try to say my name. For the way you get excited and squeal when I walk through the front door. For the way you turned and gave me a kiss for no reason earlier tonight. I praise Him for letting me be your Daddy. Oh what an honor it is to get to be that person to Jude. Simply put, my heart overflows with love for you and always will.</div>
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It's been an incredible year. Can you even imagine what the future holds? I can't wait to see.</div>
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Love,</div>
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(Holding my son at his finding spot in Zhongshan, Guangdong) </div>
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vpirushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11589152860388138551noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829821069911985736.post-84168557775980070362012-11-01T02:13:00.000-04:002012-11-01T02:39:39.277-04:00What's in a name? I recently had the opportunity to sit down for a somewhat formal interview with <a href="http://www.weag.org/orphans" target="_blank">our church</a> as part of preparations for <a href="http://orphansunday.org/" target="_blank">Orphan Sunday</a> (Nov 4, 2012). I tend to talk about my kids, my family and adoption to just about every person I know...maybe even to the folks behind me in the check out line at Target. Point is, I love talking about adoption and the impact it has had on me as a father, a husband and a follower of Christ. But for the first time I was sitting in a sound proof room with what looked to be a pretty expensive microphone a few inches from my face, going on the record. It was exciting. It was emotional.<br />
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As the session began to wrap up I was asked a question I had been expecting:<br />
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<strong><em><span style="color: red;">"What exactly is the 'orphan crisis' that we hear you and others talk about?" </span></em></strong></div>
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Oh boy, I was so ready for this one. Like a batter watching a fat pitch come right down the center of the plate, I could knock this one out of the park. I had all the <a href="http://rushandjen.blogspot.com/2012/10/i-dare-you-to-move.html" target="_blank">numbers</a> to back me up. 150 million orphans. 500k foster kids waiting for adoption in the US. Devastating statistics on crime, exploitation and human trafficking. I knew they'd be blown away by the sheer numbers.<br />
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But when the words began to roll off my tongue, I barely mentioned the statistics. Why pass up a chance to share just how HUGE of a problem this is? Because I think that is the problem, it's so big that people feel helpless and lost. What can one person possibly do? <br />
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So instead of spouting off numbers, I told a story. As I talked, the sound booth slowly transformed into an orphanage in Zhongshan City, China. So vivid are the memories of my time in that orphanage that with little effort I can recall the looks, the smells, the feel of the place. I remembered holding my newly adopted son and a Chinese care giver pointing to a crib and saying, "This is your son's bed." There I stood clinging to Jude, orphan no more, in a hot and humid building in the middle of China. Before me were rows of cribs, one after the other. In one, a boy with his hands bound behind his back with strips of cloth, was wearing his mattress thin from his endless pacing. Dozens of babies lying on their backs, motionless and staring blankly into a white ceiling. A boy just a few cribs away from my son's previous resting spot, hitting his head against the block wall. Oh how the Heavens rejoiced that Jude had a home. He was no longer fatherless. But when I stared across the room at these children I couldn't help but feel that God was asking me, "What about these? What about my other sons and daughters?" The burden for these children had never been more real that it was at that moment. These aren't statistics after all. They are His children. <strong>They have names. </strong><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One room of many. 600 children are 'assigned' to this orphanage. 98% have special needs.</td></tr>
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The orphan crisis isn't about numbers. The crisis is about children. It is about beautiful creations, designed by our Heavenly Father. They have names. They need moms. They need dads. They need Jesus. As God’s people, as his church, we have to stop blindly singing worship songs about orphans from comfortable pews. We have to stop talking about these children and then quickly forget they exist. We have a responsibility to act. If we are serious about obeying the words of our Father, then we have to rush to the fatherless. If we don’t, who will?<br />
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So this Orphan Sunday let us not get bogged down in numbers. Numbers don't tell the story. Numbers can be cumbersome and overwhelming. They can be cold and unemotional. Instead, let us remember that each number has a name. Maybe we can sponsor one. Maybe we can visit one. Maybe we can adopt one. Maybe we can love one.<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Maybe we can learn their names. </b></span></i></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My son, Judah.</td></tr>
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<br />vpirushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11589152860388138551noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829821069911985736.post-49951181764784402912012-10-25T21:36:00.001-04:002012-10-25T23:26:07.940-04:00Same Love, Different Love<div style="text-align: left;">
I think one of the biggest misgivings people have about adoption is wondering if they can love an adopted child as much as a biological child.</div>
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I've been asked it.</div>
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And I've answered it in various ways....depending on where we were on this journey.</div>
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I'm going to be honest here.</div>
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Back when we adopted Rylie, deep down, I might have answered in a way that showed my doubt. She was tough. And a lot of the time, I was faking it. And a lot of the time, I wasn't very good at faking it.</div>
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And I wondered.</div>
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Can I really love this kid? I mean, <i>really</i> love her like my others?</div>
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Without convincing myself? Without trying to convince other people?</div>
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And if I can....when? When will it happen?</div>
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Because it wasn't instantaneous. And I was completely unsure if she would ever really feel like my daughter.</div>
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It was hard to love a kid who gave you absolutely nothing in return. Who fought you every step of the way. It just was. And I'm only human, so I'll admit that.</div>
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With Jude, it was much more instantaneous. Because he was so darn lovable. And he made loving him easy.</div>
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Same as Jonah.</div>
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Same as Reagan.</div>
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Love at first sight.</div>
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Now back to Rylie....</div>
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Let me say...unequivocally....without question...I. LOVE. THIS. GIRL.</div>
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I love her as much as I love my other kids. I don't always get along with her as well. But I love her.</div>
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Deeply.</div>
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Fiercely.</div>
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Just different.</div>
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She doesn't make me mushy with the warm fuzzies.</div>
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She is usually pushing my buttons in some way....and I sense she gets a great bit of joy out of that. ;)</div>
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But still, I love her.</div>
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I love her in a "I can't handle her dealing with any more injustice and tragedy in her life than she has already experienced" kind of way. In a vengeful kind of way. In a fighting kind of way.</div>
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Because her life hasn't been fair. And it's wounded her in a lot of ways.</div>
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But I venture to say that in the end, SHE will be the one I am the most proud of.</div>
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Because when I look at her on the playground at preschool.....playing by herself because the other kids can't understand her, I realize how brave she is. And I realize how much I admire her tenacity.</div>
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And I realize that it makes my heart physically hurt to see her experience that.</div>
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And I want to fix it and shelter her from it.</div>
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She's got a lot to overcome. She risks a lot of hurt and rejection coming her way in the future.</div>
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And I know that loving her doesn't change that.</div>
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But I hope it helps her get through it.</div>
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I hope it helps her realize her value. Her worth.</div>
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I hope it shows others a glimpse of God's love for us....despite how utterly unlovable we sometimes are.</div>
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So....can you? Can you love an adopted child as much as a biological one?</div>
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Well, let's just say if you mess with her, I will mess. you. up.</div>
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And if that's not love, then I don't know what is.</div>
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Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03682621608706042182noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829821069911985736.post-4747363455963742252012-10-23T23:09:00.001-04:002012-10-23T23:09:05.165-04:00Camping! (A post of many pictures)The schedule around here gets a little crazy most of the time.<br />
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Rush works his regular job, and off-duty.<br />
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I work around him....pretty much every weekend.<br />
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Which leaves not a whole lot to spare for quality family time.<br />
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So we took matters into our own hands and planned a little getaway.<br />
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We got the kids out of school early on Friday and kept them out on Monday, packed up 2 cars (yes, it takes 2 cars for us and all our stuff) and hit the road to the mountains.<br />
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It. Was. Heaven.<br />
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Truly....the Shenandoah valley is amazing in autumn. And we were lucky enough to be there at the peak of the leaf beauty.<br />
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It's like God is just showing off. And I'm not complaining.<br />
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We had a great time.<br />
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The kids rocked some hiking.<br />
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We froze in our tent.<br />
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A skunk came to visit...and lots of deer.<br />
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And now, my quest to rid all of our stuff of campfire smell continues!<br />
<br />Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03682621608706042182noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829821069911985736.post-7769372458128752952012-10-16T16:13:00.001-04:002012-10-16T20:00:48.168-04:00Jude's Surgery Recap<div style="text-align: left;">
In the midst of craziness over the past month, I forgot to post about Jude's surgery.</div>
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On September 19, he had his "Chinese adopted boy" trifecta of surgeries....cleft palate repair, ear tubes, and circumcision. Let's just say I'm glad we're on the other side of it now.</div>
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I always feel bad for my kids before surgery. The poor things just have no idea what's about to happen to them, and it makes me feel slightly guilty. Look how happy he is. Happy and clueless. </div>
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But, it had to be done. So we did.</div>
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Here's a glimpse of Jude's palate before. You can see straight up into his nasal passages. Poor guy.</div>
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He was a happy camper that morning...even though he couldn't eat.</div>
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We loved arriving and being met by Miss Lisa from church...even at 6am! She rocks! And Jude loves her. I think the feeling is mutual. :)</div>
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Jude was his typical charming self.....interacting and loving on all of the surgical team.</div>
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Then he got his goofy juice. Hilarious. He was a total rag doll.</div>
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The surgery lasted about 4 1/2 hours or so.</div>
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Our time in the hospital was great. I work with some great people! We are so thankful to live near such great doctors and have access to amazing care!</div>
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He was loaded up with drugs for a lot of his post-op time in the hospital and I think he stayed fairly comfortable, although we did have some pain issues here and there. He slept some, but was pretty restless.</div>
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He was able to eat a little....jello, applesauce, yogurt, ice cream.</div>
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Then, we went home.</div>
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He had a rough recovery.</div>
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Rylie was fine in about 2 days time after her palate repair. Tough girl.</div>
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Jude took more like 2 weeks. He was fussy, clingy, congested and all around miserable for that time frame. We were thrilled when we started to see little glimpses of our happy guy begin to reemerge.</div>
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He's pretty much back to himself now...other than pointing "down there" and saying "Uh-oh!" when I change his diaper. Let's hope his memory is short.</div>
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He's back in speech therapy now, and just had his first session post-op. He said "Mama!" I can't wait to see how his language develops. Hopefully, he will have an easier time than Rylie has had. She's still struggling. But that's another post for another day.<br />
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Oh...and I promise, he really does have more than 1 set of pj's.</div>
Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03682621608706042182noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829821069911985736.post-47276218008542855142012-10-09T22:30:00.002-04:002012-10-10T10:33:12.522-04:00I dare you to move....<div style="background-color: white; padding: 0.5em 0px;">
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />Sometimes I want to ask God why He allows poverty, famine & injustice in the world...</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">… but I’m afraid He may ask me the same question.</span></i></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Have you ever felt like your heart was going to absolutely explode with a certain feeling? As if there is so much passion and emotion wrapped up in a single thought, idea, or feeling, that you might just die right there? Maybe it was a feeling of love, like the birth of a child. Maybe it was even fear during a frightening situation. For some time now, we've felt that "about to burst" feeling. But ours has been one of desperation. Of needing, wanting other people to see, to understand, to even begin to get a glimpse of the crisis of the world's orphans, the awesomeness of adoption, and of the command to the church to do something about it.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">In our eyes, adoption is NOT a fertility issue. Yes, of course, some couples who struggle with fertility do adopt. And I am SO glad. But for years and years, I think it has been resigned to that category. It's been looked at as a Plan B.</span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">But not anymore.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">There is a movement occurring. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A Gospel movement.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">One in which this generation sees and understands, and doesn't shy away from problems in this world. A generation which seeks out the issues. One that wants to know the hard and desperate truth of this world, of this life, and wants to make it better. One that understands that adoption and orphan care are not "social" issues. They are Gospel issues.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Because WE were orphans. WE were adopted. (Ephesians 1:5)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">And as a result, the mandate in scripture is clear for us. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Care for the least of these. (Matthew 25:31-46)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Father to the fatherless. (Psalm 68:5)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Pure and true religion. (James 1:27)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I will not leave you as orphans. (John 14:18)</span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">For 30+ years, we have "followed" Jesus. We've learned about him since birth. We've taught our kids about him. We've done what we were supposed to do in the eyes of the American church.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And what resulted was a pitiful excuse for what a follower of the true Jesus really should be.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Selfish. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Entitled.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Ignorant.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We want to change that.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">But for 30 years, how did we never hear the facts? How has the church been so blind to the desperate needs in this world? Why isn't this being preached by everyone that comes up to a pulpit? Why isn't it being pounded over and over into our heads that WE WERE ORPHANS TOO. That we deserved nothing. BUT, now we have everything! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And now that we have heard and understand, we can do something tangible to give others a picture of that love. Of our own adoption. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">How do we not abandon our self-centered Sunday worship in our comfy pews and open our eyes to the real deal? </span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">We want hard lessons. Hard truths. Challenge. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Not apathy.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Because <u>this</u> is the real deal. And I cannot be apathetic when I know this...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">147 MILLION children in this world are orphans. And that number does not include the scores of abandoned, sold, and/or trafficked children. (That's roughly half of the population of the US!) Seriously.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 23px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 23px;">Every day 5,760 more children become orphans. Every. Single. Day.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 23px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 23px;">Each year, 14.5 million orphans become "unadoptable" because they are considered too old. At the ripe old age of 14-16. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 23px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 23px;">Children who grow up as orphans are subject to abuse, poverty, and scorn.</span></div>
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<div style="line-height: 23px; padding: 0.5em 0px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">An estimated 1.2 million children are trafficked every year. Orphans are particularly susceptible to this practice.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 23px; padding: 0.5em 0px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">2 million children, the majority of them girls, are sexually exploited in the multibillion-dollar commercial sex industry. </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 23px; padding: 0.5em 0px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">In some countries, orphans are seen as a curse. And God-forbid you have a special need. Especially a visible one. Really. God. Help. You.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 23px; padding: 0.5em 0px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And here we sit, wanting to make sure that our church has good coffee on Sunday. And we better be able to drink it while we listen to a sermon. And eat our bagel. And gosh, the worship band better have their act together today and lay down some great tunes.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 23px; padding: 0.5em 0px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Are you kidding me?</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 23px; padding: 0.5em 0px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Can we get over ourselves for a minute?</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 23px; padding: 0.5em 0px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">When will we wake up? How long will it take us to see that when Jesus calls us to care for the "least of these," this is what he means!! </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 23px; padding: 0.5em 0px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Who is less than the orphan?</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 23px; padding: 0.5em 0px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Abandoned.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 23px; padding: 0.5em 0px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Hopeless.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 23px; padding: 0.5em 0px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Without provision.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 23px; padding: 0.5em 0px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Without a name.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 23px; padding: 0.5em 0px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Without a voice.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 23px; padding: 0.5em 0px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Without an advocate.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 23px; padding: 0.5em 0px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Cast aside and ignored as someone else's problem.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 23px; padding: 0.5em 0px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Don't you see? If we care for orphans, we affect so many other things...poverty, education, trafficking, disease, hunger. We give hope. We give love. We give truth and worth. </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 23px; padding: 0.5em 0px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">There is redemption.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 23px; padding: 0.5em 0px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Beauty for ashes. (Isaiah 61:3)</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 23px; padding: 0.5em 0px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Life.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 23px; padding: 0.5em 0px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">We're not called to do huge things. Just to love and show love.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 23px; padding: 0.5em 0px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">As Eric Ludy says in his message, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UWHJ6-YhSYQ">Depraved Indifference</a>, it's not ok to read in the Bible that God is the "father to the fatherless," and think we're off the hook because He takes care of it.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 23px; padding: 0.5em 0px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">He takes care of it <i>through us</i>. Aren't WE, the church, the hands and feet of Jesus? </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 23px; padding: 0.5em 0px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">YES!</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 23px; padding: 0.5em 0px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So, let's do something about it! Let's stop talking about justice and mission and move on it. </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 23px; padding: 0.5em 0px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Foster a child.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 23px; padding: 0.5em 0px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Pursue adoption.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 23px; padding: 0.5em 0px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Heck, help support another family that is pursuing adoption.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 23px; padding: 0.5em 0px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sponsor a child through <a href="http://www.compassion.com/">Compassion International</a>.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 23px; padding: 0.5em 0px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Support ministries/charities that care for orphans. (<a href="http://www.lovewithoutboundaries.com/">Love Without Boundaries</a>, <a href="http://www.showhope.org/home.aspx">Show Hope</a>, <a href="http://www.internationalvoiceoftheorphan.com/">International Voice of the Orphan</a>, etc.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Pray.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Just. Do. Something.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">You don't have to be perfect. You don't even have to be close.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Heck, you don't even have to be a "good" person. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">You just have to care. And engage.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">And be willing to obey, have a little faith, and offer a whole lot of grace (even to yourself). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Now, go!</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: normal;"><i><span style="font-family: inherit;">The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: normal;"><i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> -Lao Tzu, Chinese philosopher</span></i></span></div>
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Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03682621608706042182noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829821069911985736.post-82263186591553011282012-09-22T23:41:00.000-04:002012-09-22T23:49:36.991-04:00Why?<b><i>"Why did you adopt? You already had kids of your own?"</i></b><br />
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<b><i>"How can you love your adopted kids as much as your biological children?"</i></b><br />
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We hear both questions a lot. Honestly, they are great questions and for the most part people who ask are genuinely interested in what we have to say. The problem is I (Rush) struggle to capture and communicate in a concise and powerful way the answers that people are looking for.<br />
<br />
In steps Francis Chan.<br />
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Mr. Chan (the author of <a href="http://crazylovebook.com/" target="_blank">"Crazy Love"</a> ) provides just about the best ever two minute explanation as to why adoption is so incredibly important to our family and the responsibility placed on the Church to answer the call to care for the orphan. Thanks for helping me out Francis!<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="281" mozallowfullscreen="mozallowfullscreen" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/48047907" webkitallowfullscreen="webkitallowfullscreen" width="500"></iframe> <br />
November 4th is Orphan Sunday. Check it out: <a href="http://orphansunday.org/" target="_blank">Orphan Sunday 2012</a>vpirushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11589152860388138551noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829821069911985736.post-16139203264952293402012-09-19T04:54:00.000-04:002012-09-19T04:54:31.650-04:00Today.<div style="text-align: left;">
Today is a rather important day! Jude finally has his surgery to close his cleft palate. And along with that, comes tubes in both ears....and oh yeah....circumcision. Yikes. Good luck with that, buddy. ;)</div>
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And as glad as I am that my little man will finally be on the other end of these procedures, part of my focus is not on him today. </div>
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Because, today also happens to be the 2nd anniversary of Rylie's Gotcha Day! </div>
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2 years ago, we saw her face to face for the first time. There were lots of tears. Lots of uncertainty. Lots of hope. She dropped the title "orphan," and claimed the title "beloved daughter." </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZhPWmNK5CVWq3QXhelrdsu4knsELbFgyhgVKesjm_IaZMcVu7_m0OEc1TmhzaLuIEoaeVoC6f7dqVTttgH6efx8VQ0ZunQaHR-Dy79uioNkCPqu8wGoxyIeflGEAqJB419mGP2Uj-937k/s1600/IMGP6914.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZhPWmNK5CVWq3QXhelrdsu4knsELbFgyhgVKesjm_IaZMcVu7_m0OEc1TmhzaLuIEoaeVoC6f7dqVTttgH6efx8VQ0ZunQaHR-Dy79uioNkCPqu8wGoxyIeflGEAqJB419mGP2Uj-937k/s640/IMGP6914.JPG" width="424" /></a></div>
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Over the next few weeks, there were more tears, and screaming, and tantrums, and me wondering what the heck we had gotten ourselves into. I learned how very vulnerable she was. I learned how very inept I was. I realized there was only one avenue for her healing....and it wasn't me. </div>
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Over the past year, we have found redemption and grace, development and growth. For both of us. And for our family as a whole.</div>
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That day, 2 years ago, changed everything for us.</div>
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And so, even though we are with her brother today, and not her...well, today we celebrate our Rylie girl. </div>
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Rylie, you are wonderfully made and amazingly strong. You are a survivor and the bravest person I know. And while you still challenge me every. single. day, I love you more than I can express and I am so glad you are mine. You are my best teacher to date. And I praise God that He picked us to be your family. </div>
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Happy Gotcha Day Rylie Layne!</div>
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We celebrated last night with a little dinner in her honor! </div>
Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03682621608706042182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829821069911985736.post-8863665014747274462012-09-10T23:37:00.001-04:002012-09-11T08:06:49.751-04:00The Voice<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"Every kid is different. She will be fine. Everyone goes through this. She is so excited." </i></div>
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I've repeated that mantra over and over again as my three year old daughter prepares to begin preschool on Wednesday. It's only three days a week. It's only three hours a day. The church is only three miles from my front door. My first two kids went to the same preschool and had fabulous experiences. I'm certain I was a little apprehensive on their first day, but not like this. Why is it different?</div>
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Because it's Rylie. Because she has come such a long way since coming home, but has such a long way to go. Because she is a daddy's girl. </div>
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<b><i>Because I am her voice.</i></b></div>
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Abandoned at two months old and fighting in an orphanage with hundreds of other kids for attention, she was hampered by a palate and lips not fully formed in the womb. From the beginning she has been searching for her voice. And as her dad I have spent the past two years trying to stand in the gap for her. To love her and tell her she is beautiful (she so is). To teach her that she can trust me to always be her advocate.</div>
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But questions remain. What if her classmates and her teachers can't understand her? What if they don't know that when she says "this" she means "that"? What if other kids don't want to be her friend because she is so different than everyone else in the room? What if she gets frustrated when no one at school can translate her mumbled sounds like Daddy can?<br />
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Rylie is confident. She is determined and strong. God created her that way knowing what lies ahead. I pray that she tackles the first day of preschool like the fighter she is. I know her daddy can't be with her every second to speak when she struggles. No matter how much I may dislike it, she has to grow up. But praise God, her Heavenly Father is always by her side. Let Him be her voice when she can't seem to find the words.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/knJ5DBJ6bNM?fs=1" width="480"></iframe>vpirushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11589152860388138551noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829821069911985736.post-16491257794530533602012-09-05T21:40:00.002-04:002012-09-05T21:40:26.974-04:00First Day of School!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
To say that the kids have been excited for school to start would be a huge understatement. I don't know if I should be happy that they like school, or offended that apparently I am that boring. ;)</div>
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This year, Jonah headed into 3rd grade....</div>
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....and Reagan started Kindergarten! She has the same teacher that Jonah had for Kindergarten, which makes things so much easier since we already know and love her!</div>
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She was up at 3am....seriously. And I'm not sure she went back to sleep. Serious excitement.<br />
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We met their buddies at the bus stop. :)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm-VN9iOJ6-_sLpJp1IPggI9NKWlQu2Ts6SJ05i4MYGxhZz4H4ecOssbKDdmzSEMKedpiekLPKtw4gwXgHNTz3ShrG8EsxINjxJyVPreRLxOw0GTePnbwVFXvohFwIk0XhyphenhyphenYGWv_kb5Y5X/s1600/IMG_9670a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm-VN9iOJ6-_sLpJp1IPggI9NKWlQu2Ts6SJ05i4MYGxhZz4H4ecOssbKDdmzSEMKedpiekLPKtw4gwXgHNTz3ShrG8EsxINjxJyVPreRLxOw0GTePnbwVFXvohFwIk0XhyphenhyphenYGWv_kb5Y5X/s640/IMG_9670a.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipbWsVgj-1MkvMj6eiGBervi-BQqHqfZxraPN3Yqqn8jnnZqFggtMUxV6gQXuf5OkDvsR8v6lTz84V5LknCyk78Om1mmLg6efcw4Cv54ahSkJCiWBn6jXZABxR9aJbCEJCfH1hXjqjuuKv/s1600/IMG_9672a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipbWsVgj-1MkvMj6eiGBervi-BQqHqfZxraPN3Yqqn8jnnZqFggtMUxV6gQXuf5OkDvsR8v6lTz84V5LknCyk78Om1mmLg6efcw4Cv54ahSkJCiWBn6jXZABxR9aJbCEJCfH1hXjqjuuKv/s640/IMG_9672a.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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(all the kids minus 2)</div>
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And they were off!!</div>
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I found out that Jonah walked Reagan to her class (love that boy). He declared this the "best year ever!" and she said she had a great day too. Loved everything. </div>
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That definitely makes this momma's heart happy!</div>
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Hopefully they'll feel the same in another month!</div>
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Next up.....Rylie starts preschool next week! She's about to bust, she's so excited!</div>
Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03682621608706042182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829821069911985736.post-52779466921068844192012-08-29T21:47:00.002-04:002012-08-29T21:47:49.157-04:00Don't quote me on this........but I'm pretty sure a little creek in the woods can cure just about anything.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9rdlt3m42ocftlXOdbg0OujpltoiMup13B8UeDGBfqvkZoeKojEbG1W9fJLIkQ4XEhl8_IInnOzKHLkhlHAJ_AEf27HBtbz9omMzGMRxwnReDpsU8iFQZ0dWHPkQqLX0dTnUNzyw-PQGJ/s1600/IMG_9644+copy+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9rdlt3m42ocftlXOdbg0OujpltoiMup13B8UeDGBfqvkZoeKojEbG1W9fJLIkQ4XEhl8_IInnOzKHLkhlHAJ_AEf27HBtbz9omMzGMRxwnReDpsU8iFQZ0dWHPkQqLX0dTnUNzyw-PQGJ/s640/IMG_9644+copy+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03682621608706042182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829821069911985736.post-56746941352420980902012-08-28T22:19:00.000-04:002012-08-28T22:20:25.484-04:00Numero Uno<div style="text-align: left;">
My oldest kiddo hasn't gotten a lot of play around these parts recently.</div>
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I think that's what happens as they get bigger.</div>
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They're busier, and on the move. And well, mom and her camera get a little annoying when you're at the ripe old age of 8.</div>
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Regardless, I figured it was time to highlight my pride and joy.</div>
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My J-man...aka Jonah.</div>
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So, I did a little interview with my firstborn....my rising 3rd grader.</div>
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And I learned that if I thought taking his picture annoyed him.....well, that was nothing compared to asking him some "deep" questions.</div>
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So, here is Jonah, in all of his 8 year old glory.</div>
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Favorite Food: Undecided.</div>
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Favorite color: Red</div>
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Favorite thing to do: Ride bikes, play with legos, play playstation</div>
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Favorite sport: Baseball. Specifically, the Texas Rangers. And Josh Hamilton.</div>
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When he grows up, he wants to be a baseball player.</div>
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If that doesn't work out, then a police officer, like his Daddy and Grandpa.</div>
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He wants to live in Texas.</div>
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Loves The Mr Men Show. Thinks Mr Rude is hilarious.</div>
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Something he is proud of? Learning to ride his bike.</div>
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His favorite person: His brother, Jude :)</div>
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My favorite person?</div>
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This kid is a contender.</div>
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<br />Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03682621608706042182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829821069911985736.post-14736870901563903412012-08-27T22:18:00.002-04:002012-08-27T23:55:55.133-04:00Irresponsible<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"After the third kid people stop congratulating you. </span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Then they just look at you like you are Amish." </span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">-Jim Gaffigan</span></i></b></div>
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We can relate. When people find out we have four kids their response is usually something along the lines of, "Really? Four?" or "Wow, that's a lot."<br />
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But more often than not I hear the following question: "So are you guys done?" Sometimes I can't tell if they are asking a question or pleading for us to stop.<br />
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We have to be done, right? With our income and in today's world it was borderline irresponsible to have four, much less five children. We couldn't possibly afford more kids could we? Besides, where would we put them? We are still trying to figure out where to put Jude's bed for goodness sake. Don't even get me started on how we are going to pay for college in the years to come.<br />
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We should really do the <u>responsible</u> thing and focus on the kids we already have. But then again, whose definition of responsible I am using? The world tells me that it's responsible to have a beautifully decorated home, nice cars, college savings for everyone, expensive hobbies, well invested retirement accounts and kids who excel in academics and sports. If I can't give each kid their own room, own television, own smart phone, own computer, their own this & own that then it's pretty clear what I am: irresponsible.<br />
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It's not that any of those things are bad. In fact, many are good. But does checking everything off of that list make me responsible? Or wise? I am starting to think the answer to that question is a resounding "no".<br />
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No doubt, we all have a responsibly to provide for our families. But an even greater responsibility exists to spread the Good News to the ends of the world and to reach those in need. The poor, the abandoned. The foreigner, the widow, the orphan.<br />
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I don't know what the future holds, but I know that my family isn't done. I don't know if that means we will adopt more sons and daughters into our home. <i>It may.</i> But even if we don't we will never be done fighting for the millions of Rylies & Judes who are waiting. Literally waiting to come home & waiting to hear the Gospel.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">The more the world looks at my family and cries, "How irresponsible!" the more I'm convinced we are finally being responsible to the call that a Jewish carpenter made some 2,000 years ago. </span>vpirushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11589152860388138551noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829821069911985736.post-77350514846104067262012-08-25T23:12:00.000-04:002012-08-25T23:12:23.044-04:00Oh summer..... (Sunday Snapshot)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZq-BS-puq02yjbuILmKUQKMfwTb4yGPPkv-20rjWrgf6FF4FaXINhgPnJsjzqfAdgb7ut36Lk7hzpWHOeWAOEGZETPFuzbzdi3dXTTlZQvnLPkCbqb0d0LrS3ebIvuVsKMpDYdsl2rKbM/s1600/IMG_8689a(w).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a>
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....how I am going to miss you.</div>
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Your gorgeous blooms.</div>
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Your impromptu sleepovers.</div>
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Your poolside fun.</div>
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Your frolicking freedom.</div>
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It's been fun.</div>
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But other things await us.</div>
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Like cooler weather.</div>
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And sweatshirts.</div>
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And leaves.</div>
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And fire pits.</div>
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And did someone say football???</div>
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Oh yes. </div>
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Summer, it's been nice. </div>
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You can hang around for one more week.<br />
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But after that, I think it's time for you to mosey on along. </div>
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See ya next year.</div>
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<a href="http://nihaoyall.com/" target="self"><img alt="Ni Hao Yall" src="http://i.imgur.com/8taxm.jpg?1" /></a></center>
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<br />Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03682621608706042182noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829821069911985736.post-86750436052580388002012-08-19T14:30:00.000-04:002012-08-19T14:30:30.864-04:00Fountains (Sunday Snapshot)<div style="text-align: left;">
While Jonah was in a day camp this week, I took the other 3 kiddos to some pop-jet fountains for a little water play. It's been a while since we've been....in fact, I'm not sure we've ever even taken Rylie!</div>
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They had a great time!</div>
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I was curious to see if Jude would want to play or if the water would scare him off. He loved it!</div>
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The girls ended with a little water dump-off. Oh, these girls crack me up!</div>
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Summer is winding down....guess we better get as much of this stuff in as possible in the next 2 weeks or so before school starts.</div>
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<a href="http://nihaoyall.com/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="self"><img alt="Ni Hao Yall" src="http://i.imgur.com/8taxm.jpg?1" /></a></div>
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Sunday Snapshot info: These were taken with my Canon T3 and 55-250mm lens. SOOC, the first picture was horribly underexposed (I wasn't paying very close attention), but I tweaked it some and converted it to B&W, and considering what how poor the original looked, I kinda like it!</div>
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Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03682621608706042182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829821069911985736.post-91867813855188235312012-08-08T22:10:00.000-04:002012-08-09T08:08:24.607-04:004 Months Later4 months ago today, we stepped off a plane with our newest addition....Jude.<br />
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Home.<br />
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All 6 of us together.<br />
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Finally.<br />
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Every little milestone in this journey provides an opportunity to look back at where we started.<br />
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Jude is like a different kid. Which is good and bad.<br />
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He is still a pretty content guy. He still eats his body weight at every meal. He still has everyone pretty much wrapped around his little finger.<br />
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But....<br />
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He's started to show us some other sides too. And considering he is 2....they should come as no surprise. I guess I was just expecting him to stay more like a "baby" a little longer.<br />
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Suffice it to say, he's making up for lost time.<br />
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He is busy. In to everything.<br />
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Climbing on top of tables and bunk beds.<br />
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Going through the trash.<br />
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Pushing every button in sight.<br />
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Chasing the dog with swords.<br />
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Fighting bedtime.<br />
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And tantrums? Oh yes.<br />
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He's suddenly like a little boy. Rough and tumble. Naughty. Mischievous.<br />
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And he thinks he is hilarious.<br />
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Mostly, I do too. <br />
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But other times?<br />
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Well, it's a good thing this face is so cute.<br />
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It's an awesome privilege watching him grow and learn and become everything he was meant to be.<br />
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How we love him!Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03682621608706042182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829821069911985736.post-73592784719221032552012-08-06T01:07:00.000-04:002012-08-07T22:31:34.608-04:00Sleepy Camper (Sunday Snapshot)We went camping this weekend...all 6 of us....in a tent. A very <i>large</i> tent. We had a great time and all went well.<br />
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Well...all of us thought so, except maybe Jude.<br />
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He wasn't the biggest fan.<br />
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But he sure did look sweet sleeping in the tent. And as the sun rose that first morning, I couldn't resist taking a picture of him in that moment.<br />
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If were up to him, that's probably where he would have liked to stay all day. No such luck for him, though!<br />
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Who knows? We might just make a camper out of him yet.<br />
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<a href="http://nihaoyall.com/" target="self"><img alt="Ni Hao Yall" src="http://i.imgur.com/8taxm.jpg?1" /></a></center>Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03682621608706042182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829821069911985736.post-89064140482401916862012-08-02T13:05:00.000-04:002012-08-02T19:58:47.147-04:00My Olympic VillageI love the Olympics. Gathering as a family every four years, cheering on our nation's premier athletes. Tearing up at emotional stories of those who have overcome the greatest of odds to be awarded for their perseverance and the deep stirring of national pride. Chants of U-S-A! U-S-A! and puffed out chests as the Star Spangled Banner plays while yet another gold medal is slowly draped around Michael Phelp's neck.<br />
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Technically this is my five year old daughter Reagan's second go at the Summer Games. She was just a few months past her first birthday when the world's eyes descended upon Beijing, and I don't recall her really catching the Olympic spirit back in 2008. But this year is different for her. At five she has played some organized sports (aimlessly chasing a soccer ball around a field while wearing a jersey counts as organized sports) and watched our family cheer on the Hokies, the Rangers and the like. So like any good red blooded American dad I have been more than happy to encourage her to join us in watching the Games and revel in America's greatness.<br />
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The US's dominance in swimming at these Games has been clearly established, so what better event to start her off on than a swimming heat. The Aquatics Centre of London was packed full of spectators all proudly waving their respective flags and chanting in their native tongues. Shortly after the swimmers pushed off from their starting blocks Reagan joined right in. With all the earnestness and sweetness of a five year old little girl she broke into cheer:<br />
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"GO CHINA! GO CHINA! GO CHINA!"</div>
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I chuckled at first and started to correct my childish little girl. "We root for America in our house!", I would have said. We want to win. We want medals....lots of medals. Gold is better than silver and way better than bronze. But in His wisdom God slowed my tongue and in a matter of seconds my mind was flooded with an awareness of my own childishness. My five year old was standing next to her 3 year old sister and 2 year old brother. Both born in China. Both Chinese-Americans. The Chinese people and culture have been a part of our family's life for nearly all of Reagan's. No wonder she was rooting for China. To her they aren't the enemy or even rivals. They are family.</div>
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So often I take for granted what exists in my home every day: The merging of cultures, skin colors, languages. Isn't this what our Heavenly Father wants our homes, our communities and our churches to look like? Every nation, tribe and tongue praising and adoring Him in unison. </div>
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Loving America isn't wrong. I swell with pride watching the "Fab 5" tumble their way to gold. I proudly watch the stars and stripes fly above the 2012 version of the "Dream Team". I really do want America to win gold. I love everything about this land and I am eternally grateful for the sacrifices that have been made from founding fathers to soldiers on foreign soil to pastors in Birmingham jails. </div>
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But more than all of that I am forever indebted to the One who sacrificed all. Who redeemed all the world, sinners past, present and yet to come. Who has delivered Americans, Chinese, Russians and unreached people groups all around the globe. What an amazing picture to think of believers stretched as far as the eye can see, gathered in the great arena of Heaven all cheering our Nation. Truly a Nation indivisible, under God. Hands of red, yellow, black and white intertwined in praise. I am also thankful for that five year old little girl who may have a better vision of what that will look like than I do.<br />
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Praise God for my own little Olympic Village here in Virginia.</div>vpirushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11589152860388138551noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829821069911985736.post-42834151470654837362012-07-27T22:47:00.001-04:002012-07-28T08:03:14.958-04:00Dancing at VBSI spent this week at our church's Vacation Bible School. Nearly 700 kids and 300 volunteers helped to transform our sanctuary into a giant playroom where we learned we could trust in our God no matter what. A similar scene is being repeated all over the country as parents look to keep their kids engaged over the summer respite. One mom was overheard saying this was the 6th VBS she had sent her kids to this summer (that is a whole different topic for a different day)! While each church puts their own little spin on their VBS, couldn't you argue that for the most part they are all pretty much the same? <br />
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Sure. Especially in one glaring area: the lack of dads in the room. While there were a handful of men running around as volunteers, the crowd definitely took on a more lady-like appearance. Dad's are busy. Lots of dads work during the day and that makes it extremely difficult to get to church during business hours. Truthfully, we don't get but so much time off and doesn't it make more sense to save that for the family vacation? I could keep going on and on with other reasons why its more of a Mommy-style gig. I know most of them by heart because I have used them as excuses in the past myself.<br />
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To be honest though, the reason we don't want to help out with things like nursery, VBS & other family life events is that we often don't see it as our job. We don't want to do it. Dancing silly dances, working at craft stations & talking to puppets doesn't seem to fit neatly into our job description. Aren't we better off providing for our families at work, fixing the running toilet in the hall and changing the oil in the minivan? Without question our wives and kids need us for all those things.<br />
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But more than that they need us to be the spiritual head of the home. I have failed so often at that, the most important of all the things on my honey-do list. Leading the home doesn't just mean saying a prayer before dinner or making sure the family gets to church every Sunday morning. <span style="background-color: white;">It could mean dancing an embarrassing jig. It could mean making yourself vulnerable in front of a sanctuary full of kids. It could mean taking a day of vacation so you can laugh at corny jokes told by a puppet. </span><br />
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I was amazed this week at the number of kids who opened up and reached out to the dads who were volunteering. They wanted to sit next to us & tell us stories. They wanted to hold our hands & have us explain Bible stories to them. They wanted to laugh at our antics. Our kids are desperate for men to step up. Nearly begging us to let our guard down and show them in a tangible and sometimes crazy way that we love our God. <br />
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The point isn't that you have to volunteer at VBS to be a good dad. If that was the case I would have failed the past 8 years of fatherhood. All I ask is that we take a chance and do something that the rest of the world doesn't consider to be our job. Maybe something out of our comfort zone. Lets dance at VBS. Change a diaper. Rock a baby in the nursery. Lead a group of 6 year olds in prayer. Lets be silly for Jesus. I know our kids, our church and God will all be smiling. <br />
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The running toilet can wait.<br />
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vpirushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11589152860388138551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829821069911985736.post-66408343358965261262012-07-19T21:15:00.001-04:002012-07-19T21:17:11.134-04:00A Kick in the Pants<div style="text-align: left;">
Life around here has been a little loosey-goosey for a while.</div>
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No 2 days are the same. No 2 weeks look alike. Rush's schedule constantly changes, and thus mine does as well.</div>
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Rylie has a million appointments.....GI, plastic surgery, ENT, dental, speech. Jude is starting in now too. There's been baseball, soccer, swim lessons, church, choir, preschool, elementary school. It makes me tired thinking of it.</div>
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So.....some things have suffered. Namely, any semblance of a schedule, routine, structure....yada, yada, yada.</div>
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And Rush and I are <i>slightly</i> Type A. Well, we used to be, anyway...before 4 kids made us chill out on a lot of fronts.</div>
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But recently we've felt the need to get things whipped into shape a little more.</div>
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So, we came up with a daily schedule. I was worried the kids would hate it. That they would protest all day long. That I wouldn't want to stick with it.</div>
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IT. IS. AWESOME!!!!!</div>
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Someone tell me why we didn't start this earlier. Like 5 years ago. Sheesh.</div>
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It's not crazy scheduled. But it does set up a few things like learning time, chore time, a bible lesson, book time, etc. There's plenty of free time in there too.</div>
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The kids get a list of chores to do every day during chore time, but also are expected to help out at mealtimes, and then do a general clean up in the evening before bed.</div>
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They love it.</div>
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They are begging to do chores. They know what to expect each day, even when things are a little flexible and get changed up due to appointments or playdates. I cannot believe how easily the implementation has gone. They are fighting less, cooperating more, and in general have better attitudes.</div>
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It's made our summer break really enjoyable...even on those days here and there when we don't really have much scheduled or planned. I haven't even heard the dreaded "I'm bored!" mantra but a couple of times.</div>
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Heck, I even get some free time every now and then during the day. Gotta love that!</div>
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Flexibility for the craziness? Check! Appeasement for my long lost Type A self? Check!</div>
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What's not to love?</div>
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<br /></div>Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03682621608706042182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829821069911985736.post-23664752591412391562012-07-16T13:57:00.000-04:002012-07-16T13:57:48.911-04:00Glasses (Sunday Snapshot)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">It's amazing how little it takes (sometimes) to entertain my kiddos.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Av3pquHm17m3WKHB41NsYPdAmy04WXSfgVBcwPx4myEs-jQejU7CiebDp-egFL7Qf7Obrrf46w2v4XXai7kVMiQUUsMBYqn_ID2V9PBHxdhupZxbSSOJ1lfja_PzToNL3jnNGRpwkGvV/s1600/IMG_9186a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Av3pquHm17m3WKHB41NsYPdAmy04WXSfgVBcwPx4myEs-jQejU7CiebDp-egFL7Qf7Obrrf46w2v4XXai7kVMiQUUsMBYqn_ID2V9PBHxdhupZxbSSOJ1lfja_PzToNL3jnNGRpwkGvV/s640/IMG_9186a.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I love my little goofballs.<br />
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<center><a href="http://nihaoyall.com/" target="self"><img alt="Ni Hao Yall" src="http://i.imgur.com/8taxm.jpg?1" /></a></center>Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03682621608706042182noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829821069911985736.post-21460164654151207262012-07-06T07:35:00.000-04:002012-07-06T07:35:16.975-04:00We Are Grafted InBefore we brought Rylie home, I came across an AWESOME blog. Filled with posts from other families who have adopted and were actively pursuing adoption, it was a big help emotionally, both as we waited, and then brought home Rylie from China and endured a difficult transition. I love hearing what other parents have to say about their experiences and feelings. Mostly, I love hearing the truth...the good, the bad, and the ugly.<br />
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Well, you can imagine how honored and flattered I was to get a message about one of my little ol' posts being featured on the blog! Yep...and today's the day!<br />
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Go check it out!<br />
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<a href="http://www.wearegraftedin.com/5087/sometimes-i-forget/">http://www.wearegraftedin.com/5087/sometimes-i-forget/</a><br />
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<br />Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03682621608706042182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829821069911985736.post-53374778500247682632012-07-04T22:47:00.000-04:002012-07-05T23:04:53.065-04:00Miss, Mr, Mr, and Miss Independent<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiurRfOWLhUY7-OEVK2qENj25l56ZZOc2LN83nZsO8l7SQBLe8fvH3lmpejFFt8tMOW2z1zdZUp8OP0AvfI9-Kta61RM8hawvy2ULVpKlac0u1kNALM3dwRKQVxesG6quS6SZWsnpcmRGW_/s1600/IMG_9058a2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="394" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiurRfOWLhUY7-OEVK2qENj25l56ZZOc2LN83nZsO8l7SQBLe8fvH3lmpejFFt8tMOW2z1zdZUp8OP0AvfI9-Kta61RM8hawvy2ULVpKlac0u1kNALM3dwRKQVxesG6quS6SZWsnpcmRGW_/s640/IMG_9058a2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Thankful for our freedom!<br />
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Especially hers....<br />
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...and his.<br />
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So thankful they get to grow up in the land of the free!<br />
Happy Independence y'all!</div>Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03682621608706042182noreply@blogger.com0