What I Know

I know that my heart was broken.

On my birthday.

Twice.

It had nothing to do with me or my birth.  It was just the day.

My heart was broken in the afternoon when I learned of the huge problem of human trafficking, slavery, abuse, and sex trade in T.  There is a couple there working to help them.  One hundred women have been rescued by their efforts in the last year.  But there are 27 million more in the world who are trapped.  Trapped.

In the evening I was broken again when a T pastor implored us to come and save his people.  "I want to see my people saved before I die."  75 million people in this country.  3,500 of them are Believers.  There is a lot of work to be done.

They need workers who will move there and stay there.  This is our goal.

Where in the World?

Do you know where we are?  Do you know what we are doing?

Maybe someone you know knows.

Find out, then pray for us.

We learned tonight that we don't have to have a vision.  We can just go.  God knows His vision.  We just go.

Then a seasoned worker encouraged us to do some more interpretation with this and take the emotion out.  So I guess we're back to needing a vision.

We'll have to get back to you on that.

What's Going On

Made the peppers last night.  They were okay.  Not fabulous, but I might make them again if a friend randomly drops off another bag of her garden-grown beauties and I have a can of tomato paste.  I didn't have tomato paste last night, so maybe that was the missing wow.  But still, nice.

Quick blanching of the peppers

 Mixing up the filling.

 

 Putting Walnut Wheat Bread into the oven.

The highlight of the meal, I'd say.

Really yum.

 After the eating of the peppers,

Paul and I head north for a couple hours to help out our friends with

Show Hope.

We were at a Steven Curtis Chapman concert

and talked to some folks about adoption

and encouraged others to give money to Show Hope

who will use it to give to families like us (and you!)

who could use some financial help with adoption expenses.

They also use donations to fund their spectacular orphange in China...

They are saving lives here.

Wonderful night of sharing our passion of helping the helpless.

Lots of people pledged to give Show Hope $35 a month.

Other younger couples were moved to consider adoption more seriously.

On our booth's table was Mary Beth Chapman's new book,

Choosing To See.

I read bits and pieces throughout the night,

but finally had to stop because I couldn't hold back my tears.

She talks about her family's three adoptions

and the tragic death of one of their children.

It was very interesting.

Sad at times, and inspiring at others.

Read it with a box of tissues.

Got home at three this morning.

Today, Peter had his last soccer game,

after which there was much rejoicing.

Then we went to The City for the day.

First stop,

Costco.

Here we are.

At Costco.

Thank you nice checker person for documenting this exciting moment.

My parents gave me a food processor for my birthday!

My kitchen opportunities just exploded.

 Then we toured the Children's Museum, Saraga International Market, and Cracker Barrel.

We're all full and fulfilled.

This is the current happenings:

Peter giving Granpa the Lego lowdown.

It's a glorious day to a seven year old when a new Lego catalog arrives.

Churchy tomorrow, and a day with Paul's parents.

My Morning

Reuben and I were up earlier than the rest this morning...  Wait, that is so false.  Reuben was up earlier than the rest this morning and chose me to be his early morning friend.  My Dad and Paul were out late checking out the local poker scene, my Mom is on California time (three hours behind), and Pete is enjoying the school holiday and sleeping away the morning.

So Rube and I made muffins.

Bananaberry Bombs really.

My Great Aunt Phyllis gave me this funny cookbook.

It's called Looneyspoons.

"Low-fat Food Made Fun"

And it is.

A blueberry from our summer stash in our freezer.

Expert stirrer.

Almost done.

Time for breakfast!

Next food adventure:

Stuffed Peppers

Also in Looneyspoons

I'll let you know if they are any good.

They have black beans in them so I'm expecting great things.

Speaking of letting you know about things...

The Star Wars shirt has successfully disappeared.

No tears.
A few days of

"Where's my Darth Vader shirt?"

But we're good.

Yahoo.

Our Yesterday

So my parents were going to come visit us this week  But since we ended up flying out there last month for my Dad's baptism, they decided to postpone their trip for a bit.

Then my Dad called Tuesday morning and said, "Ha Ha, we are going to come after all!"  Funny parents.  So a few hours later and a flight full of cowboys, they're here!

Rain, colder weather, and a busier schedule are on the way later this week so we went straight to hiking at a couple state parks on Wednesday.

There's my Dad, my Mom in the hat, Evelyn in red, Reuben, Steve, and Peter.

Steve and Evelyn are local friends who are spontaneous like us and joined us for our expotition.

 Mom skipping a rock.

Really, what nice form.

 My Dad skipping.

Ha, I don't think I've ever seen my Dad skip.

The step hop version.

Have you seen your dad skip?
Funny to think about though.

Steve escorting Pete down a log.

 Rube was right behind him.

No escort required.

Don't even offer.

 Exploring a hole.

Look at all those leaves behind them.

It was a crunchy hike.

So fun.

Ahhh.

I love sweet family time.

And fall sunshine.

And good friends.

Mi Hermanito

"Daaa-vid" was how my Grandmother would say my brother's name.  He is pretty much known as Dave now, or the Bennettar.  Which ever you prefer.  It is his turn to be celebrated because it's his birthday now.  Or was.  Yesterday.  So let us extend the celebratory remarks...

 

Can you pick him out of a crowd?

This is September 12, 2010

I spy two uncles, two aunts (where's Jann?), a cousin, three siblings, a sibling-in-law, a niece, my parents, and my three boys.  Oh, and me too.

This is the outdoor pool where my Dad was baptized.

How about a smaller crowd?

This picture should look familiar.

My sis, my brother, me, and my other brother, Daryl.

There he is.

(I just wanted to get some family shots in there since I haven't fully posted about our trip to California.)

We love spending time with him and his wife Nicole.

They are so cool.

And we are, you know, pretty cool too.

So, naturally, we just smoosh together well,

like softened ice cream being refrozen into an ice cream cake.

Cool like that.

 He has crazy cute kids.

This is Gigi and Peter

reuniting after a year and a half.

 

 And little Brody

with my man.

So maybe I put this particular picture in so I could gaze at Paul.

I did.

Good picture.

Handsome man.

 Dave is a thinker, uh-huh.

He's not just posing.

He's trying to figure out what Paul is talking about.

Carly's not so sure either.

 

 This is his beach.

Which is so strange because it was my beach first,

back in 1998.

Back in the day when Paul and I were writing letters to

each other from across the country.

Ahhhh

He is a self-taught zen gardener.

 One-handed even.

For fun, I mean, his job

he works for Elliptigo as an engineer.

 Neat, huh?

It's a real job based on a real bike.

I rode it.

You could too.

Check out their website.

 And a multi-tasker extraordinaire.

Here he is scoring a live major league baseball game

(perfect job for him)...

 

...while Paul serenades him...

 ...and we all make and eat ice cream sundaes for dinner.

This was a fab dinner.

I think we ate something before the ice cream came out, but I don't remember what.

It was something smallish to leave room for this second course.

Trader Joe's supplied the waffles, chocolate and mint ice creams, chocolate covered pretzel thins, chocolate covered sunflower seeds, and mini peanut butter cups.

There was whipped cream too.

How did Dave accurately score the game, I don't know.

But the food, family, and music was a good time.

Hope you had a swell birthday.

Miss you tons.

Money Needed, Money Cometh

Since we are adopting internationally, we have to preapply for our future child to immigrate.  This costs about a thousand dollars.  Thank you United States Immigration.

Once we apply, the paperwork is only good for a year.  Well, our wait keeps getting extended and is nearing a two year wait.  So I have not done the immigration paperwork.  Makes sense, right?  Our social worker even told us to hold off on filing.

Start drama... now.

The busy folks at immigration have decided to increase their fees as of next month.  We are pretty close to being a year away from getting a referral (being matched with a child) so I thought now is a good time, before the fee increase, to get this paperwork rolling.

I read the instructions last night, filled out the forms, printed them out, and was about to write the check when I saw the words that made my life more complicated.  "Homestudies must have been completed within the last six months."  Seriously?  Ours was done nine months ago.  I am too late.  Ugh.

So an email to and from our social worker confirms that we have to have our homestudy updated; she can't just print out a new cover page with a more recent date.  She has to come back out to our house, rewrite some things, and accept another of our checks for hundreds of dollars.    Jiminy Christmas.

More drama... go.

But... I don't know why or how this happened... A woman from our church came by today and gave me a folded piece of paper and said, "Here, this is for you," and she walked away.  Do you know what it was?  A check for a thousand dollars with our names on it and marked 'Adoption Fees' on the memo line.  A thousand dollars.

Crazy. 

Wait, didn't I write a post about this?  Giving someone you know a thousand dollars to help with their adoption expenses?  I had forgotten, but I did.  I know she didn't read it.  She doesn't know this space exists.

 

Thank you to this surprising lady and to God who nudged her to give.


Wow.


Really.


Thank you.

Hit Me Again

In a judgemental voice iced with meanness she said, "He doesn't go to school, does he?"

"No," I replied, wondering where that look in her eye was taking this conversation.

She said, "Well, I can tell.  At school they teach children to follow the rules."

"What do you mean by 'you can tell'?  What rules is he not following?" confused me asked.

Instead of answering, she all of a sudden became too busy to talk about it anymore.


That's the short version of a conversation I had today with a part-time librarian.

The long version ends with me in tears and my pulling Reuben and Peter from the morning library program so I could go home and sob in solitude.  Are my children obsessive rule breakers and I am totally unaware?  Am I training them all wrong?  What is she talking about?  I was so hurt that she made those comments and then wouldn't talk to me about it any more.


The director of the library, Linda, called me later to apologize for the other librarian.  It seems that Audrey, the part-time librarian, thinks Peter is too old to sit and listen to story time.

"The program is for 2-4 year olds and he is seven.  He shouldn't be in there," Audrey very black and whitely declared.

Therefore, according to her, he is breaking the rules.  And I should enroll him in school so that he can learn how to follow the rules.

I was so surprised and caught off guard.  Why is Audrey out-of-the-blue slamming our decision to homeschool?  Linda has always welcomed Peter to sit and listen to story time.  It's not like this insignificant event of the librarian reading a story is happening in a private room.  They are all just sitting on the floor in a nook of the library, parents sitting around the perimeter and younger babes toddling around. She even includes Peter by letting him help pass out supplies and such.

On the phone, Linda assured me that both boys are welcome and she has never had a problem with their behavior.  She said this was not the first time she has had to apologize for Audrey's outspokenness.

Wow.  Two surprise attacks this week.  Adoption and homeschool.  I'm trying to evaluate my life to determine what aspect will be hit next.  All I can think of is something to do with me being from California or my roll as a pastor's wife.  Might as well hit me while I'm down.

Carlotta

Happy Birthday to my dear Sister!

Have you met her?

Maybe that one time a while back.

Well, she is very cute.

Look at her smile.

So cute.

 Here she is practicing to be a Mom

with our new nephew, Brody

She will parent with much grace and confidence.

I think I would if I had her EMT, ER, CPR, and

counseling skills.

Look at me try to console Brody.

He can tell I don't have all those emergency skills if he were to need me to help him in any way.

My sister has a whole lot of style.

(So do my two brothers here,

but it's not their birthday today.)

Pink ruffles and fun shoes that you can't see.

And she can do these spirals in her hair

or let it look beachy wavy.

You should go get your hair done with her.

Ha.  That James.

Have you ever been hit by a car twice times in a day?

I know.  She's crazy like that.

Anyhoo, I love my dear sister and I'm glad for Facebook that keeps us connected.

Oh, do I have a picture of her hunky husband?

 There he is.

Hope you had a sweet, sweet day.

It's Not Funny

I try not to be easily offended by others' words or actions.  But today I was so saddened, then mad, and then saddened again by one of my friends.  Two of my friends.  One of them, my closest friend.

Friend 1 retold something he saw on TV to Friend 2.  Friend 2 then told it to me.  It was about a family who was going to meet with a social worker to become adoptive parents.  The dad was being careless with his words (a jerk, really) and said something like,

"So what if she (the social worker) doesn't like me.  Then I just won't buy one of their used babies."

My two friends thought this was hilarious.  It immediately hurt me.

I am mad that this was on television and that a lot of other people heard those words.

I am mad that my two friends are retelling this story and influencing others to think it's funny.

It is not funny to the adopted child who is trying to make sense of his life.  Why didn't my birthparents keep me?  Why are television shows portraying me as a used object, like I have less value than other people?  Am I not the same as my friends?  Does the world look at me as a lesser person?

It is not funny to the birthparents who were in a tough situation that led to an adoptive family raising their child.  Have you placed your child for adoption?  Have you signed the papers to relinquish your parental rights?  Imagine how hard that is.  This is not a casual action, like taking a bag of used toys to Goodwill for someone else to buy.

It is not funny to me, a real life adoptive Mom who is trying so hard to love and build a positive life for my child.  His birthmom could not take care of him.  If she had chosen to parent him, his birth country would have made him feel like a "used baby," not worthy of any kind of status.  That's how it is there when you cannot trace your family bloodline.  The life the TV dad was joking about would have been a real experience for my child.  Do you see why I'm so mad?  This is my child the world and my friends are joking about...  my child and the thousands of other orphans living in our country who are watching shows like this one, overhearing jokes like this one, fighting their own frustrations because they have to live as a "used baby" when all they want is to be 'normal.'

Adopted children are not some thing we buy.  They are not used objects.  What a horrible thing to say.

Gotta Hike

Just as I was ready to write a poem titled Coldness How I Despise Thee, the weather went back to summer sunshine and warmth.  I got this sense of urgency to go hiking before winter locks us in our home for several months.

 The traditional Fall Family Photo at a State Park.

 Daring boys.

 A little closer.

We came around a corner and were surprised by this rock tower.

So that was all Saturday at Shades State Park.  Actually called The Shades of Death, but we leave out the death part.

After church on Sunday I took Peter and Reuben to Holliday Park in The City where we hiked, visited the nature center, and played on their bigger-than-I've-ever-seen playground.  No pictures of that excursion.  But you can imagine.

Now here is today.  McCormick's Creek State Park.  Trail three is .8 miles.  Point eight miles.  I think it took us about two and a half hours.  Maybe three.  We went with some friends and the kids had so much fun.

 Everyone had to hold the frog.

I am going to save this photo for their wedding slide show.

Can you see that Reuben is wet up to his armpits?

They had to check out all the water holes and snail shells and random water spigots.

They would all get on a big rock in the creek, each with a long stick, and pretend to row it as a boat.

They were so cute and creative.

 Peter declared that his goal was to
go the most challenging route.
"And would you please take my picture as I go?"

Then we picnicked and climbed on a playground where a bee went up my capri pant leg and stung me two times.  Lame.

Do I look fulfilled?

It was a lovely weekend.
Three days, three parks,
and sunshine on my shoulders.

Okay, snow, come.

But be quick about it.

Please.