Happy One Year Home!

(It's been a long time since I have posted in here! Dusting it off for this One Year at Home post.)

Today marks one year. One year since that scared little boy (who pretended to be very tough) climbed on that plane, flew across an ocean, and arrived in a place he had never seen, didn't understand, and didn't choose. 

One year since Mitch and I climbed on that plane and truly began a journey that we hadn't ever been on, didn't understand and was chosen for us too.

You see, we spent 5 years doing paperwork, holding fundraisers, advocating for adoption, fighting with our government, with the Congolese government, spending all our savings plus more on foster care and attorney fees, and riding an everlasting emotional rollercoaster.

Yet we really hadn't even gotten to the hard part. The real part.

This last year has been one of the toughest of my life. Probably THE toughest. There are parts of you - ugly selfish parts- you can't even imagine exist, until you are faced with a situation that requires complete and utter selflessness, unconditional love and acceptance. And patience upon patience upon patience. This first year made it very apparent to me that I am pretty terrible at all of those things.

I know many people don't want to hear how difficult parenting and loving a kid from hard places is. It gets old. People think you asked for it so you should just suck it up. Or in general, people just want to hear only the good stuff and see the smiling pictures.

But that isn't real life. I feel like if we publicly advocated for adoption for so long yet aren't truthful now about what it REALLY looks like, then we aren't honoring this thing God called us to.

But the truth. Telling the truth is hard too. 

I walked a thin line of anxiety and depression those first few months after we got off the plane. This kid that I loved from the first moment I saw his picture? Well, now he was yelling at me in Lingala, destroying my house, waking me up at 5am every day, being mean to his siblings, and constantly telling me he wants to leave and go back to Congo. He even packed his bag once or twice.

This kid that I thought I loved? I realized I didn't even know him.

This parenting kids from hard places? I realized I didn't have a clue how to do it.

This guilt and resentment and selfishness I was feeling? I realized I wasn't the person I thought I was. 

Mitch and I had conversations late at night that went something like "oh my god, what have we done? We have no idea what we are doing. Have we ruined our family forever?" pretty frequently those first few months.

Sure, there were LOTS of good moments too. Lots of "Wow, we really get to do this?" and "Man, he is so amazing" moments. Those got us through. And some signs of progress too. We would turn a corner and life would seem normal again. We could finally go eat at a restaurant. Or walk through a store. We could pay attention to our other kids. We even took a trip or two.

But then we would cycle back to old trauma behaviors. Something would trigger him. Some memory or some change in our life and we would be right back to where we started. Sigh. 

We would learn that all those training videos and books that said 

"It takes the same amount of time they lived withOUT you for them to really adjust and feel like a part of you"  or "Trauma has major effects on the brain and most kids over 3 suffer from some sort of Reactive Attachment Disorder"?

This stuff we thought wouldn't apply to us?  (I mean we literally had conversations like "he will be different. we won't have it that bad. God will heal him and we will love him enough and it may take a *little* time, but years?? No way. Not us.")

Well, we were wrong. We learned most of those things are very very true. 

He lived withOUT us for almost 4 years. We didn't have him from infancy. When didn't have those tiny cute years to fall in love. We couldn't meet his needs from the beginning establishing a relationship of trust and love. So, how could we expect an overnight change? Or even a change in just a few months? For all of us? Why were we so stupid?

So now that we knew...really knew, did we have enough patience and endurance to do this thing? Could he learn to live in a family? As I've come to realize, many older kids from traumatic backgrounds just can't. They struggle forever.

He had left everything familiar to him. He had no control over his new life and he didn't like it one bit. We knew this life here was better for him. We knew that 1 in 5 kids in Congo doesn't make it to their 5th birthday. But, he didn't know nor care about any of that. We told him "no". We told him when to go to bed and not to hit and what could and couldn't be played with. We looked different, acted different, and talked different.

He also has the lasting effects of malnutrition, neglect, and trauma hardwired into his brain which makes everything harder. Everything. 

We fought SO HARD for this boy. And he didn't always want to be here. And he told us frequently. It was hard not be hurt and confused and resentful about that. 

Could we really do this? Do we really have what it takes?

No. We don't. 

Healing takes time. Parenting takes grace and patience. Loving an older adopted child like your own biological child takes dying to yourself on the daily. And we don't have that. Not on our own.

But Jesus. We do have Him. And He is the only way we have made it. And He is the only way we will continue to make it. His grace and mercy and forgiveness when we screw up. His wisdom he offers when we want to do it right. His sovereignty in placing people in our lives that walk with us without judgement.  His healing of hearts and mending of brains.

What would we have done this year without all of that?

I have learned SO much this last year. Yes, it has been super tough. But, I wouldn't change it for anything. My kids are better people. My marriage is stronger. My friendships have been refined. And my trust in our faithful God is forever my lifeline.

And this boy in my home is lovely and flawed and a constant picture of redemption. 

He is brave and strong. Is he tough? Yes. But he has had to be tough to make it this far in his life. And chances are he will have to continue to be. He will have white parents which will be difficult for him, no matter how we wish it wasn't. He will likely face developmental challenges as a result of early childhood malnutrition and neglect. He also has parents who are sometimes total idiots, so that will be difficult too. 

But God made him tough. Resilient. Hilarious. Smart. Kind. Adorable. Chosen. Loved.

We can't wait to watch him grow. 

Thank you for allowing me to over post this year on Facebook and Instagram. Thank you for indulging in all the good posts and pictures and all the hard ones as well.

I am making a conscious effort this next year to post about this journey less, although struggles and story aren't over.  But I will always advocate for adoption and adoptive mamas and daddies. 

If you know any foster/adoptive parents, my advice is this:

Listen to them. Allow them to talk about the hard along with the good. Empathize with them without giving advice. Acknowledge it is hard and it might even possibly be harder than just your own difficult toddler/preteen/teenager was. This can be a lonely journey when you feel like no one understands or when no one *wants* to understand. Most of all, pray for them. Pray for their child. Pray for their biological children. Pray for their marriage. 

And for anyone on the fence about adoption, my advice is this:

Do it. Yes, it's hard. Yes, it's costly. But, I have a little boy in my house who has a chance at life, who has a family who loves him, and will be told about Jesus on the daily.

There is no doubt in my heart or mind that he is worth ALL of the hard stuff.

Happy 1 year home baby boy. You are loved.

Forever Family Day - January 10th from KFickey on Vimeo.

500

Today marks 500 days since the DRCongo stopped issuing exit permits for all legally adopted children.
Josiah has been LEGALLY ours for much longer than that.

I don't normally get political, so please excuse me this one time but I feel like some of this needs to be said and we need as much help as possible.

While our US State Department, US Ambassadors, the US Children's Issues Department, USCIS, and several US Senators and Congressman have all been fighting for us and our children, our President has remained SILENT.

This may not seem like that big of a shocker considering what I'm assuming many of your political views probably are. But this man is a straight-up CELEBRITY in most parts of Africa. His face is everywhere. Even on GROCERY STORE PLASTIC BAGS (which was real fun to get to watch Mitch carry around). He has incredible influence there.

And yet through the last 500 days....silence.

The President of DRCongo, Joseph Kabila (who is NOT loved by his own people...to put it mildly) was actually on US soil being WELCOMED by our own President Obama and Senator Kerry, when the first medically fragile child DIED in DRCongo...although he had been adopted by all DRC legal standards, had a valid US Visa, and a loving family ready to care for him. He died without his family. But, let's smile and take a picture and ignore it all because people don't want to know about the REAL hard things anyway.....

There have been many since then that have suffered the same fate.

And still....silence from this massively influential man.

On last week's conference call with the US Department of State, I would say 50% of the questions that were asked were "Why can't OUR president DO, SAY, DEMAND SOMEthing?"
We all have no doubt that if this were to happen, things would start moving. No doubt. But, the US DoS response to these questions?? "We are exploring all options at this time".

AKA: "our President isn't interested".

So, here I am getting "political" and I am asking you to as well. I am tired of the run around. I am tired of paying $500 a month for someone else to care for my son, when I am perfectly capable and legally able to do so. I am tired of answering the question "When is Josiah coming home". And I am tired of our president ignoring this situation.

So will you join me in writing President Obama, Facebooking him, tweeting him, calling him, whatever you can do and asking him DEMANDING that he GET INVOLVED. (see below)

There are over 700 children (adopted by US families) STUCK in the DRC. And while he is touring around making all his celebrity appearances and what not, we figure he can take a little time and make a phone call or write a letter to his good buddy Joseph Kabila.

{By the way, yes the US does give aid to the people of the DRC. Yes, we are also continuing to issue US visas to Congolese people wanting to come to the US....ironic, no? I get that diplomacy is tricky, that Obama really probably does truly abhor what Kabila is about and has to "make nice" with all kinds of dictators. But enough is enough.  Doing nothing is no longer an option. }

OBAMA's info:
Contact the White House via Email and Phone call
Facebook: @barackobama and @whitehouse
Twitter: @barackobama and @whitehouse

HUGE changes

We had a conference call last week with our US department of state giving us a little hopeful news concerning the DRC lifting the suspension of exit letters. With not really any certainty, they tried to encourage us that it might happen in the next few months. But, we've been told that before.

However, I know that a sour attitude does not change a thing, so I will choose to be hopeful and believe in the system (ahem, eye roll). But, if I'm being honest, having another Christmas with 6 stockings and only 5 bodies in our house is just flat out depressing.

So, add that to some other REALLY BIG changes in our life, and this has been an interesting (and a little difficult) holiday season.

We are moving. Gah, the hardest three words to type. 

Mitch was offered a job in Houston the week before Thanksgiving. He brought it to me, hoping that I would be so excited and say "YES!! LET'S GO!". Well, that is DEFINITELY not the response he got.

I have lived in Boerne more years of my life than not. My mom is here. My best friends in the world are here. My partner in crime is here. My village is here. My house is small, but perfect. My kids love their school, their friends, their church, their soccer team. My job is here. The ministries I have poured my heart out for are here. The church my kids have grown up in is here. We have deep, deep roots in this town (stretching back 22 years) and I was just NOT willing to let all of that go. Not without a fight.

So, enter selfish spoiled brat Katie. Fighting to the death to hold on to the dream of what she thought her life was supposed to look like. My kids were supposed to graduate from my alma mater (go hounds go!). Josiah was supposed to meet and know all of the people that had prayed for him, given money towards him coming home, and even RUN RACES for him.  My mom was supposed to be an ever-present figure in my kid's lives (and mine!). I was going to grow old and grey with my friends and go to the weddings of their children...who were supposed to marry some of my children, of course. And I was supposed to continue to watch the ministries I love grow and change.

So, how does all THAT work if we live in HOUSTON??

Well, it doesn't.

But what DOES work is letting go of the expectations of what I thought our life would look like. Following my husband where he feels like God is leading us. Walking through the HARD things with my kids, pointing them to their ever-loving, faithful, GOOD God.

Because, what it really came down to was believing that Jesus was enough.  Take away the comforts, the friends, the job, the ministry roles, the church... and accept that being somewhere new wasn't the end of me, but rather the chance to fully rely on the God I claim to rely on.

So, I finally said "okay".  I did not say "Yippee!! LET'S DO IT" because I'm still not there yet. But, Mitch is excited and our kids are working on getting excited and that helps me crawl out of my pity party cave that I have dug. Although it is *pretty* cozy in here, so I will likely crawl back in occasionally.

Mitch will start soon, but the kids and I will stay here and finish out the school year (this gave them quite a bit of comfort). There will be plenty of time for all the sad goodbyes I have imagined in my head.

Meanwhile I will be working on letting go, trusting God, and supporting a pretty great man who I vowed to love, follow, and honor almost 15 years ago.

**Will you join me in praying that the Lord would give us the sweet gift of bringing Josiah home before we move? (This is the one thing I'm having a really hard time letting go of...) It IS possible and it would do this heart some serious good. **

Love each of you that have listened to me pour out my selfish, sad soul, and cry in the last few weeks (I still can't talk about it without crying). I am glad I have at least 6 more months with each of you. What a blessing you have been to me.

(Also, pray for my hair because...THE  HUMIDITY.)

623 days and counting....

623 days ago we saw Jose's picture for the first time, accepted his referral, and considered him our son.
394 days ago we became the legal parents of Jose.
199 days ago we got to meet our 4th child face to face.

Every day has been a battle. This wasn't supposed to happen like this. It wasn't supposed to take this long, be this hard, or cost this much. Every expectation we had we have had to toss aside, swallow our pride and accept the reality of what IS.

The reality is we have zero control. Less than zero. A lesson I apparently needed to learn, but haven't learned without a fight. I went down kicking and screaming.

365 days ago they suspended all issuing of Exit letters. 12 months, they said. We will lift the suspension sometime within 12 months. Well, it has been 12 months.

We expected some sort of news this month, this week. Some movement. But, instead of positive news, we have heard some heartbreaking things that will more than likely have a very negative impact on the situation for all adoptive families. (I can't post many details about what is happening, but feel free to ask me privately. I know...so annoying.)

So, once again we wait for decisions to be made by a government we don't fully trust half a world away.

Each day that passes that number grows higher than I ever expected it to be. Each day Satan battles for my mind, and my trust in the Lord's sovereignty ebbs and flows. Have we made the right choices? Have we done all we could do? How do we go on with our life when part of us is halfway around the world? What if he never gets to come home...

So while we live out each day in this unknown place, I am so grateful for the little victories. The perfectly timed bible studies, the affirmation from friends, the surprising and undeserved gifts to help with the financial burden. All reminders that God is still there, He still cares, and He knew this was going to happen way before it did.

We are still waiting for the BIG victory. I do believe Josiah will come home. I let doubt creep in until I am reminded that it is not from the Lord. The victory will come. (repeat and then repeat again)

Thank you for those of you that ask, pray, and love us through this looooooong season. If you are tired of hearing about the waiting, and think "man! when is that kid gonna come home so I can stop hearing about it?!" Preach (my hand is up in the air).

Until then, keep praying. #josiahcomehome

It's a long story...

I am sitting in the mountains with extremely spotty and mostly non-existent signal. While this always makes me feel a bit like I lost my left arm at first, I know that it is beyond necessary to silence your life a bit. 

The last few weeks have been hard. We have found some things out concerning our adoption of Josiah and it hasn't been good news. We have had to have hard talks and I have cried more than once. But God, in His wisdom, knew I would have time to stop and listen to Him while we have been in our favorite place and it has been encouraging for my heart. 

The VERY basic gist is this: 

The Congolese government allowed 27 adopted children to leave the DRC with their adoptive parents at the end of May. This was huge news. Some movement meant the ball was rolling and maybe we would be next. We were wrong. 

They then told our State Department that the DRC government was going to write new laws concerning their adoption practices and would not even begin doing so until the fall when their parliament met again. Bad news #1. 

Then they stated that some of the adoptions that had already been thoroughly investigated, processed, and given favorable judgements might be VOIDED and thrown out. Specifically ones with a single adoptive parent, or with more than two existing children in their home. And by my count, we have THREE rascals at home. Bad news #2. 

More waiting and an even possible reversal of our own favorable judgement. 

Meanwhile, our Jose is getting bigger. And we are paying what seems like an unreasonably large amount of foster fees each month. 

For a while I just didn't talk about it. I didn't want to ask the dreaded question. Ignoring the problem is always the solution, no? 

But finally I allowed myself to go there.

What if we never get to bring him home? What if we are never a family...TOGETHER?

Do we continue to pay foster fees (which have now totaled up to $5,000 on top of the $30,000 we have already paid in attorney, agency and country fees) FOREVER? 

What happens to him if they throw our adoption judgement out? Where does he go? What does his life look like? 

What does OUR life look like? How does this make sense? This 4 year journey that could end like this? 

I have mourned the fact that school will start in less than two months and ALL my kids will be going. In any other world, this would make me jump for joy. But it wasn't supposed to be like this. I was supposed to have this other babe sitting on my hip and destroying my house and singing from the car seat in the back and making soccer practices more difficult because of early bed times. So, September doesn't feel like freedom. I dread it. 

Then I got here. To the mountains that I swear God made just for me. I stopped going between fretting and ignoring and started listening.  And God told me this through the pretty rad book The Circle Maker: 

Keep circling Jericho. 

In the Spring of 2010 God specifically told me He was going to add to our family through adoption. I didn't know what that would look like and where it would take us when I first shared that with Mitch. (If I knew then what we would be in store for, I may have kept quiet a little longer.)  But that promise from God was as clear as day to me. 

And God's promise (and instructions) to Joshua were pretty clear too: March. And then march some more. And God would give them victory. What if they had stopped one circle too soon? They would have missed out.

So we know that we have to keep circling. Even though sometimes it feels crazy and hopeless and endless. I don't want to stop too soon. I don't want to mentally throw my hands up and give in to the State Department's notifications that DRC adoption is doomed. 

We don't have answers to any of the questions I asked above. But I am happy to say that last week, the House of Representatives Foreign Affairs committee voted in favor of HR588, legislation urging the DRC to expedite exit letters and for them to uphold the previous judgements made on adoptions before the suspension. And YOU can help!! Call, write, or email your representative and show your support for HR588 which will be voted on in the House soon. The link below takes you to more info and links to send letters:

https://bothendsburning.org/wp-content/uploads/2014/06/DRC-Results-Press-Release.pdf

So, we will praise God for the promise and the victory and will keep circling. Even though it feels crazy and endless and sometimes hopeless. 

"His Birthday"

The last night we were in Kinshasa, as I was laying in bed heartbroken that we had to say goodbye the next day, I felt like God spoke something to me. It felt very vague and I have tried to make sense of it ever since then, but I mostly have kept it to myself.

As weird as it may sound, I feel like in my super dramatic anguish that night,  God whispered "his birthday".

Ummm, what? What about "his birthday"? "His birthday" isn't really even the actual day of his birth. He was abandoned, so that means we will never know his real birthday. This random date on his birth certificate, July 27, is only a guess (and probably not a very accurate one at that).

Soooo, what about "his birthday", God? What do you want me to do with that?

In the weeks that have passed since we flew out of the Congo, I still feel like I hear God reminding me of this. I have shared this with Mitch and only just a few other friends because mostly it sounds crazy and like maybe I made it up that night to make myself feel better. But, I feel pretty confident that I didn't and want to share it with you now so you will pray something very specific with me:

For Josiah to be HOME by HIS BIRTHDAY... July 27.

Do I feel like God promised me that? No. I am still not very clear on why He would choose those specific, but vague, words to speak to me. But, how could I ignore that there must be some significance in hearing that?

The news we received two weeks ago of the DGM's stubbornness and refusal to open until September definitely caused serious doubts about the probability of him coming home anytime before that.

But, I am still choosing to pray BOLDLY for "his birthday".  It is not impossible. Because He is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine (Eph 3:20).

So, while we beg God to move mountains to bring him home by July, we now have the chance to advocate for Josiah and the other families who are STUCK in this mess as well through our own government.

While our Department of State has made some effort in helping this situation, they really honestly could be and should be doing so much more.

Over the next week, we have been asked by a notable adoption attorney and advocacy group, who has taken up the plight of the DRC families, to flood our state Senator's offices with requests to take our cause to Washington.

We would love for our friends to take part in this as well! Many of you already have and we are so grateful! It only takes a few minutes to send an email, fax or make a call. I will post the links below and then also give you basically word for word what you can say or write.

I believe that God can use this to bring our boy home by his birthday. Will you help us overwhelm our Senators and break their hearts for these children who are stuck without families? And then will you join with us as we pray for Jose to be able to celebrate his birthday with cake and candles and FAMILY around him right here in Boerne, Texas?

Bold prayers honor God, and God honors bold prayers. God isn’t offended by your biggest dreams or boldest prayers. He is offended by anything less. {Mark Batterson}

Thank you!!

Links to Senators:

Write Senator Cornyn 

Write Senator Cruz

{SAMPLE LETTER}

Your name

123 Main Street

You city and state

Dear (Senator, Congressman, or Congresswomen __________),

My name is [Insert Your Name] and I reside at [Insert Your Address] in [Insert Your City], Texas.  My friends, Mitchell and Kathryn Fickey are adopting from Democratic Republic of Congo and have been waiting several months to bring their child home.  His name is Joseph Pambu and he is 20 months old. 

I am writing you to ask for help in uniting this family.  Currently the DRC has suspended issuing exit letters, (this is issued by the DRC government and is needed to leave the county). Their adoption is complete and Joseph is their child but cannot leave the country. The Department of State has sent a delegation to DRC and are planning a DRC delegation to come here but the officials who are coming are not from the DGM office, which is where the problems lie.  They are saying the suspension was put in place because they have concerns about the welfare of the children who are already in the US and want to see them and the parents.  Why is the DOS not addressing that issue with them?  At the present time there are approximately 130 children sitting in DRC with US visa but cannot cross any boarders to come home and approximately 500 children  are in the adoption process. Please we need a solution to get these children home. For everyday extra they stay is a day they may get sick and die. DRC is the second poorest country in the world, 40% of children  do not make it until their 5^th birthday, and most people eat only 2-4 meal a week.  Recently 31 children died of dysentery in an orphanage.  Please we need your help.

I appreciate your help and ask that you please send me a response letting me know if you have reached out to the Department of State and expressed your concern for the welfare of these children.

Thank you for your time and considering my request.

Sincerely,

Sad news....

So remember in my last post when I mentioned the delegation from the US Department of State coming to Kinshasa at the same time as we were there? Well, today we got an update. And it wasn't good news.

We were able to listen in on a conference call set up by the Dept of State, the US Citizen and Immigration Service, and the US Embassy in Kinshasa. Adoption agencies who had programs in the DRC and adoptive families whose children are stuck in country were able to take part as well.

First of all, let me mention what an AMAZING thing it is that our Department of State has taken part in this and is doing this much for these kids and this program. This is not the norm in the international adoption world. We are so grateful that our government has taken such efforts to travel to DRC, to meet with officials, to try and convince them of the legitimacy and integrity of the American adoption process, and then to relay the info back to us. For all the ways our government has frustrated us in this process, they have more than made up for it in the way they have handled this. So cheers America. Well, done.

Now, the bad news. Just to catch you up..,the DGM (which is like the Congo's state department) is the agency that issues the exit letter to the Congolese adopted child saying they can take their valid US Visa and their completely vetted US parents and actually leave the country, shut down back in September. This "temporary closure" happened because some officials had heard reports that homosexuals were adopting Congolese children and/or that Americans were abusing the children once back in the states. Now, I can't speak to these specific reports. What I can speak to is that now there are children stuck in their country. Children with families. I heard parents crying on this teleconference today. Their babies are sick and need medical treatment. Or their spouse is stuck in the country because when they thought they could come home with their kids back in September they stayed and waited and waited for their exit letter (all the while bonding with their new child) and now refuse to leave without their babies. That's SIX MONTHS now y'all. So families are split up as one spouse cares for their Congolese child and the other stays in the States working and caring for their other children. I just cannot even imagine.

So, the basic news that they gave us from their trip was this: The DGM won't let anyone tell them what to do and they will re-open when they want to. Which will not be any sooner than SEPTEMBER.

This is definitely NOT the news we wanted to hear. This is NOT what we were hoping for nor what we expected. This news to an already fragile heart right now has sunk me a little deeper into sadness. Josiah needs to be home with us now. At any given moment, I am picturing what he would be doing at that exact moment if he had come home with us. Sam on a tricycle...of course Jose would be riding on the back. Dinner time...always that empty chair that sits there. Of course Jose would probably NOT be sitting in it, but he would definitely be crawling all around it. Everything just seems so incomplete now. This was hard news.

It's so easy to be angry at the DGM. At the Congolese government. At Congolese people as a whole sometimes. It's easy to point fingers and blame certain entities for the languishing of orphans when they could be set in families (and I should also mention that Americans are not the only nation adopting from DRC. Canada, France, Italy, and Belgium adopt more children than Americans do, actually). Mitch and I left for the Congo two weeks ago thinking that we had a good grasp on their history and their present, but as we discovered...we had no idea. We have learned so much more. I have become obsessed with reading anything I can, probably just trying to make sense of the things that we saw and experienced while we were there.

I have to choose to not be angry at them. Because we just don't know what it has been like or continues to be like for them. I have had people say to me (mostly from people who have been to Uganda or Ethiopia or other fairly settled countries) as I explain the Congo, "oh yeah, Africa, it's so crazy there." But y'all. It's so beyond that. My heart physically hurts as I read and know more. Like why the hell don't we know about this? Why don't we know that in some ways, the American government is responsible for this?

Did you know that the DRC is the POOREST country in the world? That it holds the title of MOST DANGEROUS COUNTRY FOR WOMEN? That the WORST WAR SINCE WWII took place in Congo? That it is the MOST CORRUPT COUNTRY in the world? That it is THE RAPE CAPITAL?

Are you kidding me? If you care at all about Jose's country or better yet, if you care at all about humanity and hurting people, I encourage you to read THIS ARTICLE. It gives the best overview of the history of violence and oppression in DRC and also doesn't gloss over the fact that the West played a pretty vital role in that.

So, as much as I hate this. As much as I want to find someone to hate and cuss about, I can't let myself find the scapegoat in the Congolese government and people. From where I sit, in my cushy American house, these people are doing the best they can. They may hate American adoption, and they may not be able to care for their orphans themselves and that may confuse the hell out of me, but being angry and hateful makes me not be able to hurt for them. And I do. And you should too.

I have had some thoughts recently that what I had hoped from the beginning that our adoption story would maybe inspire someone someday to adopt internationally (because let me remind you again the need is REAL. And these babies are REAL.) has more realistically driven people to RUN away from international adoption. Even the people who have a HUGE heart for adoption have said to me "yeah, that's crazy. And there are kids here. So we choose adoption through foster care". And let me tell you, I would probably have too if I had witnessed this as a bystander.

But, I am still praying. I am still hopeful that someone out there will choose to fight for these kids. For just ONE kid SOMEwhere. Even if it's a three year PAINFUL journey like ours. And that you have to sacrifice and scrape and fundraise to make it happen. Because in all the ways I have doubted this journey we are on, I am more confident than ever that we were called to international adoption and that we are called to advocate for the international orphan.

So, we will keep fighting for our ONE kid SOMEwhere. Because he matters. And we love him. And my heart hurts thinking we will probably not get to celebrate his birthday with him AGAIN.

But, God showed me this verse this week in my quiet time, and I have decided it's my new life motto. I may even get it tattooed somewhere.
It's the story of David handing over the building of the temple to Solomon. David says to him "Take this seriously. The Lord has chosen you. So be strong, and do the work."

BE STRONG AND DO THE WORK. So, I choose to suck it up, choose love and compassion instead of anger, and do the work. The work of loving a kid so far away and getting ready to bring him home some day. Because it WILL happen.

David ends his speech to Solomon by saying, "Don't be discouraged by the size of the task, for the Lord, my God is with you. He will not leave you or forsake you." What a gift this was to read this this week and have it so engraved on my heart before today.