Fun Times

"That pool is certainly worth the money," said Bob as he came in through the back door last evening. Just as it was growing dark, he surprised us by announcing we were going out for a swim with the lights on. We had the pool put in last fall in time for the new boys, and now they yell and splash out there with Rob, making up games and races, and leaping to the center of the pool to land inside an innertube. They summersault and wintersault to see who can make the biggest splash, and when Bob and I accompanied them, Peter danced with delight and did all his tricks with a shout, "Luke at me, Ded! Luke at me, Mum!"

With swimming as an incentive they are getting their oral reading done more quickly. In fact both of them completed their grade 3 level written questions with very little help from me today. Another first. Then all three raced back and forth to the fridge door checking off their After School Job List. I still needed to stop making supper and go "inspect" rather than "expect" the finished tasks, but beds are being tucked in to a more military tautness these days, and more dog hair fuzzies than ever are being routed from under the couch.

Another addition to the Halpert family fun is pingpong. One Saturday afternoon we took down my girlie decorations in the diningroom, pulled out the extensions on my grandmother's diningroom table and had a pingpong tournament. I think my grandma would understand because she had six boys. Maybe we'll get a real table, since the boys liked playing in Ukraine, and Rob and I are pretty good too.

Last week was field day at school. On his lunch hour Bob surprised the boys by coming to see them run races. After all afternoon they were tanned a nice brown.

That evening we watched Charlotte's Web, and Peter set up the model farm with all the animals, especially the pigs. The guy type westerns and historical movies are ok, but the boys do like kids' stories. Their music teacher introduced them to selections from Mary Poppins and The Sound of Music. So while we do dishes, I am hearing a lot of "Chim, Chiminey" and "Do a Deer".

Bob reads Uncle Wiggly - stories about the Bunny Rabbit gentleman with the red, white and blue rheumatism crutch. Even at age almost 12 and 13 (and Rob...shh...at 14), they love those tales and speculate together about what will happen in the next story.

As our cute, now mid-20's, daughter used to say when she was a cute, little thing, "Happy Days, Happy Ways!...So much to be thankful for.

Trust

Yesterday as we drove to the ice park to have a skate, I shared with the boys that my friend was learning to trust God with a detached retina.

James said, "Oh, Mom, you have to trust in God! When I lived on the street, one time someone called me a bad name that means 'cross-eyed' in Russian and poked his finger in my good eye, I just rubbed my hand over my eye and I could see again." God took care of me. Peter agreed, "Someone asked me if a man bit off my ear in a fight, and that hurt my feelings. "Oh, Mom," he said in a voice filled with awe, "You have to trust in God. You have to believe. Wifout Him you can do nuffing."

They are learning to trust people too. God has been so very kind in providing a headmistress at school who listens to God, and two teachers who pray and teach the kids with loving authority. When they first went to school, the boys thought the teachers were out to get them, and that their correction meant they didn't love them. Peter's little outbursts of self protection have passed, though, and at 3:00 every day both he and James bounce to the car smiling.

They continue to learn to trust us and each other at home also. I explain that, just as trust between a person and God is the basis for that relationship, so it is the basis of human relationships. I have always left my purse out, and they trust us by leaving their precious allowance money out. They even help count each other's money.

The other day Peter was stomping because he could not find his sports water bottle. He told me, "Somebody stole it." I stopped him and held him for a minute and whispered, "Peter, this is a Jesus family in God's Kingdom. The King says, 'You shall not steal.' So who do you think stole it? Dad? me? Rob? James?"

He sank down in my arms, and said, "I'm sorry, Mom." I said, "OK, then, Let's ask God where it is." We did and opened our eyes to see the thing sitting on the counter about a yard away.

Currently we are undergoing some uncertainty with Bob's job change. Though we have not shared it with the kids, they sense it. Yesterday at skating, I stopped to tie the skates of a tiny, black girl with a named that sounded like Lasagna. Peter became clingy, and James said he was tired and wanted to go home now. I gave the little girl to Peter, who, red faced, sweetly took her hand and off they went. I took James' hand and he showed me how fast he could go. We all skated happily another half hour.

However, last night James reverted to an old habit of control, staying awake and alert in his bed till early morning. This morning the other bed needed its sheets changed, something I haven't done for a couple months.

When "the righteous cry...the Lord hears and delivers them out of all their affliction," so I am confident this too shall pass. God is always with us in difficult and fun times, and He always has answered, and always will meet our every need. People who love us can pray though.

Perfected love casts out fear and insecurity, replacing it with faith and trust.

The "Bad Stuff"

Yet another couple is headed over to get one those wonderful Ukrainian "older kids". She recently asked me to tell her the 'bad stuff' about adopting older children. Well, seriously, I am really amazed at how good things are. God must really be into adopting orphans, because people we don't even know pray for us. Prayer makes things glide along a lot more sweetly than they would normally. Amazing grace.

The bad stuff? It isn't really bad, only some new challenges we may not have faced before. I know I shouldn't be amazed at God, but sometimes I am so joyful at how easy it is when I just laugh and "take it to the Lord in prayer."

For our boys, the rough and tumble of orphanage life involved drinking and smoking at times for one, and swearing and rough housing for both. When the boys first came they had one or two fist fights, but now it is only fun wrestling. Orphan kids who smoke and swear often do so because no one cares enough to tell them those are bad habits. Often they are bored, so they hang around, smoke and talk dirty. Our boys have no reason to smoke, they don't really want to talk dirty, becasue Jesus is cleaning their minds, and for the same reason, hopefully they have little reason to swear. :)

A couple other things: when they first got out of prison (oops, the orphanage) they used their new found freedom to roam widely - like all over the airport, until we grabbed them back into line. Bob especially was firm with them. I learned to shut my mouth and not interfere, when I saw how they respected and obeyed him.

After four months, one of ours is occasionally still a little too "hands on" investigating things, grabbing for the phone or pressing buttons. Now and then he is too physical with the cat, or kids at school, not in a bad way, but still in a rougher way than American kids may be used to. His brothers "help" him behave though, and do not hesitiate to point out his social foibles! He is so tenderhearted he really does not mean ill.

Our first meal with them in the London airport, left us wide-eyed at their table manners. Now the boys are aware when they smack their food and lower their head to the level of the plate to scoop. They'll stop after a small reminder. James still smiles as he scarfs down an entire apple, core and all, then flicks the stem into the garbage. But again these 'problems' are nothing and we just keep on reminding them without being overbearing.

However, some other deeper negative things pertaining to orphanage and street life, which surprise us at times are suspicion, anger, and violence. Sounds bad, but it's not. It is just one more opportunity to watch the fun as God's sweet Holy Spirit sets them free to be who He meant them to be. More about that next time.

Things We Value

I was thinking that I'd like to go to church Wednesday evening. We hadn't done so up till now because of school. Adjustments with the boys called for keeping them home in the evenings.

But just as I was planning to slip out and go myself, James stood squarely in front of me and asked, "Mom, I would like to go to church tonight. May I?" "Well, I told him, "there is no activity for the kids." His response did not surprise me. "I know, but I would like to go."

So I said, "OK, boys, pull on clean tee shirts and brush your teeth. James ran first for his jar of coins on the kitchen counter to get offering money, then took off for the bedroom. In about five minutes he and Peter reappeared, dressed, not in tee shirts, but their Sunday best, button-down collars, pants with nice creases, and hair jelled to 11 and 12 year old perfection. Their Bibles were under their arms and they were waiting for me!

When we got to church Peter snuggled next to me, but James asked if he could sit a row up from us, by himself. I agreed and later a young man came and sat next to him.

Here is a little boy, sitting on the edge on his seat, eyes big, drinking in the Truth of God's Word. Meanwhile another one sits next to me, drawing pictures of people saying, "I love Jesus." On another page he makes Jesus with His beard and long robe saying, "I love children," and another of the "full armor of God," complete with a label for each item and Bible references!

This reminds me of our friend, Iris, who will soon be heading back to her beloved China to teach English. There her students are so starved for God, they cannot wait for more Bible Study and teaching. I pray I can always share God's Word with these kids in such a way that life and power comes through it, not just dead facts. I'd hate for them to ever take it for granted.

In the car on the way home from church James told me, "Mom, I am hungry. AND I am hungry for God! I can't get full enough." Then at bedtime, he quoted the pastor's verse about God at work in us "both to will and to do His good pleasure." He then asked God in his prayer that he would not be silly with his friends (What does that mean?), and ended His prayer "in the mighty Name of Jesus." "What is zis 'mighty', Mom?" he asked when he looked up.

Peter prayed that he would increase his speed in arithmetic, and that the pastor's heart would be "stirred to build the house of the Lord" like Ezra prayed. He too prayed in the "mighty Name of Jesus."

One day a man came to our house and gave me a book about orphans in India, who are being cared for in Christian orphanages. When they are grown, they are given bicycles to carry the Gospel to remote villages. The book is entitled "God's Orphan Army."

Like those orphans, the little boys we have in our care value the eternal. Perhaps some day, propelled by Something unseen, they too will go and offer it to others who will value it as well.

Running

"Well, Girl, how are you going to relate this 'Everyday Adventure'?" Bob asked.
"I guess I'll just tell it like it is," I answered. "People might want to know about the good, the bad, and the happy endings." So here goes...

Last week James ran away.

I had told him the eye doctor said he needed to wear his glasses all the time. He has only one good eye, and they would protect it as well as improve its vision. However, he just couldn't understand the need for them. Hadn't he gotten along for years without them, back when he was running his own life on the streets of Odessa? Despite his poor vision, he had become quite adept at spotting lost coins, food and policemen.

So when I saw him without his glasses on at school and confronted him, he quietly hung his head and said, "No, Mom, I can't. It is very hard for me." I was feeling pressed to do what the doctor ordered, and could not comprehend what was so difficult about putting on glasses. He is a sweet kid, so I left him to think about it in the car where we had been talking. In a little while I returned to find him gone and the glasses folded and placed carefully on my arm rest.

While he was away, my beloved friends, teachers, and even our headmistress drove around searching. I felt sad, but also somewhat annoyed, because I wanted to see Rob run at the only track meet at our own school that I'd been able to attend. He was getting so many 'firsts' that our fridge door was growing cluttered with blue ribbons. I had my camera, but was forced to look for James, run back and catch Rob's next race, go look for James, and then back to the track again.

A year ago after we had started our paperwork to get him, we had "lost James" when he walked away from the orphanage for a few days. On that occasion I had laid him, along with my broken heart, down before the Lord. James was, as he has told me, "God's boy" so I knew this time God was going to take care of him, and I just needed to wait for Him to work it through.

In about an hour, a burley, black policeman picked him up on the road behind the school and brought him to me. He had cut through the woods to the road we take home. He told me later he didn't have a plan, and I believe that he was not really Running Away. He just felt he had no recourse and that he couldn't make me understand that he just could not obey me on this.

I was perplexed, but prayed and tried to hear what God was saying, while at the same time voices in my head were scolding, "He's GOT to do what you say," "The doctor says so," "We know better than he does," "He's only twelve," and on and on.

Two days later I dropped in at the school and surprised him. He was not wearing the glasses.

They say, if you feel called by God to an assignment, and you feel competent to handle it, most likely it is not your assignmnet from God. His are always impossible, so we must depend on Him instead of our own ingenuity and experience.

"Well," I said to the Lord, "Here I am standing in this school hallway with this child. I accept my assignment; 'Mission Impossible.' Now what?" I knew I would have to walk through this one really slowly and try to listen to Him. So I checked James out of school. He did not like the idea of being disciplined, but said he was not angry at me. Just that wearing the glasses was even harder. That I did not understand how hard it was.

So we talked, and we talked some more. I explained the way of non-compliance would be a hard one, and that to obey and accept me as his mom would open the way to all the perks of being a full-fledged son - like bikes, swimming in the pool, icecream, allowances, etc. Why would he not simply choose to follow that path?

His reply really shut me up. He said, "Mom, don't you see? If I follow the path of obeying you with the glasses, my heart is very bad. I don't like my heart to be like that to you."

Suddenly I saw the twelve year old Lord Jesus standing before His mother asking her, "Mom, don't you understand? I have to follow my heart. You must release me on this issue so I can make an independent choice." Wow! This boy was also a twelve year old with many, many thoughts in his young head, some of which he would never tell me.

He had lived in the streets, making life and death decisions for himself and providing for himself and his mother, until he lost even her. Yes, he had viewed it all through a child's eyes and still needed parents. Yet, he HAD gone through all of it, and I needed to respect that. I saw that forcing the issue, even on a hundred dollar pair of eye glasses, was not God's plan. I needed to respect him.

When I told him so, he smiled his big smile and came and hugged me. At that moment the bread maker sounded, and we went and cut thick slices of fresh bread for ourselves. While we spread molasses over them, he told me how he had gotten into the police car. "Were you scared? I asked. "No, Mom," he laughed. "I have been in police cars many, many times. I went so often to the police station that one time the policeman at the desk said, 'Go away Zhenya, you give me too much paperwork!' So I left, and that time I didn't even have to run."

End of story? James is my boy again, happy and fun, wrestling with Skipper and splashing in the pool with his brothers. Tonight at supper he asked question after question of his daddy, adding insightful comments. He wants to know exactly what, 'The Lord is my Shepherd' implies, and what does 'I shall not want' mean?

The glasses are in their case in the kitchen drawer. No pressure; they are just waiting should James hear the Shepherd telling him it's time to try them on for size. Then it would be his decison, his following the Shepherd.

Kneeling at his bedside tonight, he reached for the old family harmonica his Oma had given him and played a little tune, "just for God. It is my prayer to Him, ok, Mom?"

If you say so, James. There are tears in my eyes, but my mouth is shut.

To the Dentist's

Another first for the boys that same Wednesday was the dentist. Between thunderclaps, I picked up one and then the other for their first teeth cleaning. Previously I had pointed out the office, and always after that, when we'd drive by it, they'd say in hushed voices to each other, "There is the dentist's office. I don't like that." Apparently some Ukrainian dentists prefer yanking teeth to filling them.

But when we got there, a sweet young lady wearing a bright Southern smile was waiting for them. She coaxed them into the big chair and put them at ease with her kindly drawl. A year ago this girl had chosen a picture of one of their classmates from among my photos of Ukrainian orphans, and had been faithfully praying for her all year.

Because God heard her prayers, a wonderful teenager met the little girl on a missions trip last summer. The teen went home to convince her parents that this girl was to be her sister, and now that couple are planning their trip to Ukraine to adopt her. Hence the boys call their dental hygenist "Yana's penpal".

Yana's Penpal cleaned their teeth gently and efficiently, talking softly all the while explaining to the boys about plaque, flossing and the need to brush the backs of their teeth. James' eyes grew big and he exclaimed, "Ohh, ohh!" when his tongue got sucked into the water vacuun. Peter gave a big 'Hahaha' around the little brush that tickled his gums, making his front teeth pink with flavored tooth paste.

Both boys have decided that, although they don't like tornadoes, the dentist is ok, and they still like America.

Firsts

While Rob's track meet was cancelled so he did not get his usual 'first' ribbons, we did have some other firsts on Wednesday. The morning dawned so dark that we weren't sure if the clocks were right. Turned out there was weather brewing and when the siren sounded in our neighborhood, the boys experienced their first tornado emergency.

Grabbing the weather radio we'd picked up in hurricane territory - Galveston, Texas, we headed for the little cubbyhole under the stairs. James ran for a flashlight and Skipper, I for my cell phone, and Rob for a map of our county. Peter scooped up Lucy the cat and a blanket to curl up in, so he could read the big stack of Civil War Times and old Southern Partisan magazines Bob has stacked in there.

Meanwhile Bob stood guard at the front door, watching the clouds and listening for that "sound of a train approaching" they always tell you about. The last time he heard that was when he stood at our front door in Galveston watching a tornado skip along the roofs of the houses across the street from us, scattering tiles all over our front lawn. On that occasion I too had been watching the horizontal rain, but from inside the garage. Suddenly I became aware of our garage door bulging outward. "I think I will go back in the kitchen," I decided. Bob also had retreated into the house and informed me that it was his tornado that had sucked on my garage door.

Well, Wednesday, I joined the boys under the stairs, and we read Psalm 91. When the skies cleared somewhat, I took them on to school, only to have another siren alert and their first time out in the hallway with their class with heads tucked between their knees.

Later James reported, "I was praying in there. I said, 'God, if you are sending this tornado, then we will come to you in your will. But if it is not God, then Stop it, devil!'"

Kolya Gets His Family!

James and Peter are so happy for Kolya (Nicolas) their friend from Orphanage #4 . He is being adopted ask we speak. Kolya was found, thrown away as a baby. You can read about the adoption by Susie and Kyle at http://www.lennard6.blogspot.com/

Our boys cannot wait to phone Kolya when he gets to America. When James and he were together, the only ones from their orphanage at the sanatorium together, they talked about life. James asked him what he wanted most to do with his life. He said to have a family and go to America. So we prayed that he would have a family, and less than a month later there he is!

Kolya is the little boy I got teamed up with in a game we played one time. We were blindfolded and asked to make a sound that our partner would recognize. I said, "Shto, Kolya?" What should we say?" He suggested, "Meow, meow". We were the last to find each other in the crowded room, wandering all around saying, "Meow,meow," and finally, laughing, we bumped into each other.

There are so many little Kolyas over there in Ukraine. Peter got a letter from his friend named Dima. Peter says Dima is a good boy, that he prays. One night when Dima was afraid, Peter let him crawl into his narrow bed until morning. He thanked Peter and Peter said, "Nyet problemo, Dima, I am your friend." Dima's letter says he prays for Peter's family every day. "Little Dima" has a club foot that might still be repairable if someone could go get him and give him love and a home. I am sure they will.

Another Dima is going to feel the emptiness once Kolya leaves. That is Kolya's good buddy "Big Dima". Both Dima's are adoptable, just waiting for somebody to open their heart and spare bedroom to a lonely little boy who is aching to become their loving son.

Day of Rest?

Yesterday was a packed-full Sunday at our house. While I was liesurely cooking breakfast, the phone rang. It was Maggie asking if she could bring seven college friends for dinner after church. Of course! It is such a relief to have a decent-sized family around the table.

What I didn't know when I set the slow cooker on "low" was that I would miss an hour because the time change had whizzed right over our heads. Well, the kids came, several ballerinas, some Elementary Ed. majors and a nice young man from South Africa studying accounting.

The kids shot baskets while I threw the semi-cooked stew into the microwave. Whew! Bless her heart, Maggie says, "As long as you have brownies for dessert, nothing else matters."

After the kids left, James and Peter finished replacing the spring flowers on the cleared diningroom table. James carefully laid Bob's Bible at the father's place and Peter and I began wiping the tea cups. Since Dad was temporarily out of commission with a sore knee and Rob had been asked out to lunch with friends, the lot fell to me to load up the bikes in Bob's truck and head to the bike trail for the Sunday afternoon outing.

"Mom! Can you reeeally drive Dad's truck?" They were amazed, I think because women in Ukraine don't usually drive a car, let alone a big truck. They finally believed I could do it when we pulled into Winn Dixie's to unload. I think they must have been holding their breath till we got there!

As expected, James asked if he could be the leader. I said, "OK" and smiled as he imitated his dad's every move, carefully checking for traffic and signally us to follow. Daily that boy is more and more comfortable sliding into his new role as Bob's #2 son.

It's My Life

Back when James and I used to have serious discussions about his attitude, he made a comment that sounded right at the time. It is a popular misconception which I do not want my kids growing up believing. Defending his periodic episodes of gloom, he said, "Mom, it's my life."

Not!

This morning while the boys ate their breakfast I fed them some eternal goodies from God's Word. It is imperative that these guys know Truth, because someday they will be heads of households. So I had Rob read I Corinthians 6:20, which shows why "It's my life," is doubly false.

Not only did these three boys not breathe into themselves the breath of life, but they were purchased with the highest possible price, the blood of Jesus Christ. They are not their own.

Far better to be a good kid in God's family, taking orders from the kindest Person you will ever meet, than to believe the delusion that you are your own man.

"...you are not your own..for you are bought with a price: therefore glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, which are God's."

Up North

When Rob told someone he had been in Michigan over spring break, they said, "You shouldn't stay up there too long. There are Yankees up there. It's not good for you." Well, I think it was real good for him and James and Peter and all of us.

The boys had a very special time in Michigan at big sister Emily and husband Chad's place, chasing their 3 year old and making her giggle. Then playing pool and computer games, touring the big sporting goods store at the mall and eating Chinese at Stir Crazy with Stephie and Ed. Then it was across the border to Canada to get loved on by grandparents.

We all slept over at my sister and her husband's small farm where the kids helped gather eggs and learned how to catch a chicken, hold a rabbit and hug a goat. When Grandpa, my dad, who is ninety next month, asked if he and my wonderful step mother could take the boys to Point Pelee National Park, I was thrilled because I practically grew up at Point Pelee.

The morning they were to make the one hour trek to 'the point', big flakes of snow were slowly drifting down from heavy gray clouds. Not the least dissuaded, they dragged out Auntie Marnie's winter box and dug for additional gloves, hats and scarves, until everyone was warmly layered against the cold.

Off they drove as the snow fell thicker and thicker. They spent half the day at Colosanti's indoor plant farm and zoo and then drove on to see Point Pelee, the tip of which was obliterated by six or seven foot waves rolling across from the east. Freezing snow whipped across the open water and pelted their cheeks with stinging wetness. What a time of memory making, laughing, and bonding for all of them!

Back home on the farm the snow was accumulating to a perfect depth for a snowball fight, which included the boys'little Canadian niece, who laughing, peeked out of the bushes at her rowdy uncles from Mississippi washing each other's faces in snow.