Pray

During the year that we were in process for our adoption, there were several ups and downs, which we learned to roll with. I rolled very poorly at first, and like other parents-to-be, lost sleep. Almost all of us heard at least one of the following:

"There is a new rule that says you may not adopt non siblings," "Your child is not adoptable after all," "Relatives have shown up who may not give permission," "Someone else wants to adopt your child," "Your child is missing, we think kidnapped by her drug addict mother." Or "Your child ran away," "Your child will not be available until after the appointment date you have been given"...etc, etc.

During these times we learned to lean very heavily on the Lord and "not on our own understanding". What choice did we have? He is there in Ukraine, but we were very far away across an ocean. We were totally at His mercy...which was a good thing.

Currently there are dozens of prospective parents in Ukraine unable to complete their adoptions because of a hang-up while the National Adoption Center changes hands and goes on holiday!

Would you mind stopping for a minute and praying that God will give Mr. Yushchenko, the President of Ukraine, wisdom and courage, and freedom to make these changes, that they'd be for the good of the children. AND that they'd happen fast.

We have acquaintances hung up in Ukraine right now, and we know children waiting for word that the people who are there to get them, can in fact, do so. Pray that they can go home with their new moms and dads and have the family they have been dreaming of.

Please mention Wilma and Cynthia, two mommas-to-be and two young 'Dimas' who we trust will be able to go with the folks, who we trust are coming for them or may be there waiting.

We know there is someone evil who wants to keep these kiddies in a dark and lonely place, but that God is longing to "set the solitary in families." It seems though, that He will do nothing about anything except in response to His people's prayers.

So thank you for praying! May His Kingdom come!

Happy Christmas

Although we were far away from loved ones today, God kindly gave us a very happy Christmas. He is like that.

I hope I never forget...

The little boys running in and out of the house for more goodies to take to the elderly neighbors up and down the street and returning with more sweets than they took!

Maggie and Rob and I driving down our road to wish "Jimmy OK" a Merry Christmas. Rob's amused amazement at the assortment of grills and couches and such on Jimmy's front lawn, and listening hard to catch a few words as he told how he was smokin' a turkey in da grill fo' his brothah.

On the way home, stopping at Melvin's ancient little farmhouse. Him whispering to me in the doorstep that he'd quick put his beer away because of the kids, and then insisting we come in to the warmth of the woodfire heating his front room. The coziness of it all and the wondrous clutter of old things jammed into the small room.

Him reaching for his old, felt cowboy hat to be formal while he told us how his daddy and mama, who lived in this house, brought him up to be a survivalist. How they moved the house from down the road, where they were sharecroppers.

How he would need to jack up the house, because the rainwater flooding over the Yazoo clay on the construction site across our road could destroy his property.

Looking down at the brown tattered pages of the coverless Bible on the table in front of me, and thinking that maybe that was where Melvin got his equanimity. Not sure, because I don't really think he ever learned to read.

Him and Jimmy OK laughing at me as they directed me how to rock my car to get out of the mud by the road. Then later when we were back in civilization looking at the Christmas lights in the town square, smelling something terribly like a horse barn. Looking down to see the muck on my tires....

All of us filing into one row in the theater to see "Narnia" on Christmas Eve day. Peter belting out loud at funny Mr. Beaver. Afterwards all discussing how close to the book the movie was. And then having a crazy discussion about how for the next twenty-four hours we would not correct the boys English. In fact, No one would correct Anyone about Anything. Just for twenty-four hours. Could we do it?

Later in the twilight, watching an enormous cloud roll across the valley until it shrouded our whole world in dense whiteness. Bob with a flashlight, taking the kids to the end of the driveway to feel the quiet and perfect absence of lights.

Back inside, deciphering his rhyming clues hidden around the house, to solve the yearly Christmas Eve pajama hunt. Peter discovering the bundle of pj's in the tool cupboard. Hearing his and James' ooohs over their new jamas with feet, "just like in Ukraine!"

Bob pouring out a little glass of cheap wine for each child before bed (a tradition handed down by his father intended to put him and his brothers to sleep faster on Christmas Eve). Bob lighting the brass candelabra which James and Peter had sat for hours polishing. Him carrying it, to put the children to bed by candlelight.

Stuffing the stockings before crashing into bed, and then rising early Christmas morning to the smell of turkey and Newfoundland savory stuffing. Bob turning on the Christmas tree lights and lighting the fireplace logs, while I went into the kitchen to baste the turkey. Then both of us dodging back to bed just as seven o'clock chimed.

Rob hiding under James bed to unplug his clock and scare him, and all three boys pushing and giggling into the family room to open their stockings.

Peter's delight at his new Panzer tank with the remote control. James' eyes growing big and hearing him whisper, "coo-ool", as he pulled the sheet from off his new bike beside the tree. And Rob's broad smile at his gift of "Annals of Calvin and Hobbs", and then hearing his contagious chuckle from the fat chair by the fireplace, while Bob, squashed into it next to him, read aloud.

Splitting my sides laughing as Rob made the stretchy little rubber chicken he got from Maggie, walk across the table... Thinking how God must be smiling down at us, enjoying it all. And thinking how easy it is to trust Him if I would just do it.

Maggie wearing earphones, practicing worship songs for Intervarsity on her new keyboard. And Dixie Mae underfoot in the kitchen, begging for turkey gizzard. Rob and Maggie sailing walnut boats in the sink, after the walnut Rob pitched to her cracked against the kitchen wall, when she hit it with a cardboard gift wrap roll!

James and I dashing outside to pick holly leaves and pricking ourselves on the sharp points. Then remembering that the Baby in the manger grew up. And that He was born to die a cruel, painful death. Stopping to think how the red cranberries and the sharp holly leaves foretell that He would shed precious blood for our sins.

Decorating the plum pudding with the leaves and berries, and then pouring a little Newfie Screech around it. Trying to ignite it but finding the cheap Jamaica rum inside the bottle not to be as alcoholic as we'd thought. So giving up, but tasting the stuff on our pudding. Eating too much of everything, and loving it.

Clocking how fast Peter and James could run down the frontage road, when no one but us was out on Christmas night. Piling them back into the car again, and racing to the Reservoir for one last look at the long, thin, red sunset.

Swinging our feet from the dock in the dusk, as the cold breeze blew across the gray, choppy waters. Rob's head disappearing into his jacket and the zipper zipped up over it. Stopping our chatter long enough to listen to God's music of the waves lapping against the shore. Watching the red clouds fade into the other end of the Reservoir, and suddenly realizing Mississippi was dark.

Maggie rescuing Peter's new red glove from the cold water, after he, by mistake dropped it from the dock, then watched in agony while it floated to shore on the dark waves.

Back home, James calling for me to come and see him up a tree in the dark, starlit night. To look with him around the backyard through his new infrared goggles.

Peter in the dark, shooting (and missing!) a deer on the front lawn using his new Nerf gun. And Rob trying out his new telescope, not finding any of the millions of stars, but laughing as he did find the copula of the Am South Bank across the valley.

Tucking Peter in next to his new police car with the siren that really works. The smell of lavender as Maggie's arms came round me from behind, and her voice saying "Merry Christmas, Mommy. It was a good day."

The Other End of the Spoon

I admit it. I used to avoid eye contact with the Salvation Army guy at Wal Mart. Once I'd self consciously dropped a few coins in his pot, I felt I'd done my duty. Besides I was busy, on my way somewhere important.

I don't know why I was so stingy. Maybe I was just in the in-a-hurry mode of the North, but it certainly isn't the way it's done in Mississippi, one of the poorest and one of the most generous states in the Union.

This is where store ladies call you "Darlin'" and where men nod as you pass in the parking lot. "How y'all doing?" is either verbal or a lift of the fingers from the steering wheel of the truck as they drive by.

When the bell ringer first appeared, James and Peter stood watching, wide-eyed as shoppers streamed up to him, one after another dropping in a handful of coins and often stuffing in dollar bills. Now the boys go out of their way to give as well, running back if they miss the man, and sometimes even giving on the way in and coming out too!

Sunday after church we took them, along with all the kids, down to the Stew Pot to serve dinner and pass out hats, socks and gloves to the homeless folks. While Rob and his buddy Alan ladeled out sweet tea, James squirted whipped cream on desserts, and Peter, the perfect Jeeves, served tables.

It was good for all of us to be on that end of the serving spoon. And as December 21 draws near, we are mindful how much receiving we have done in the past year. It was one year ago to the day, that our family shepherded two fresh orphans, slightly wild, off the plane to begin the adventure of growing them into sons and brothers.

While Bob and I thought it was we who were the givers, in reality the boys have shown a generosity beyond ours, so grateful and wishing to please and serve us.

All glory to God who has helped each one of us to unlock the doors of our hearts and receive each other, giving and receiving and agreeing to become Family.

Warm and Cozy

Bob has been back to work this week and says he "feels normal, feels great." And thanks to so many of you dear friends and family who have been praying for him and us. We believe that he is strengthened by God's Spirit and will be better than ever. God has really been good to us.

Today a friend said she called regarding natural gas for the house of a friend down in Gulfport, which was so badly devastated by Hurricane Katrina. While she was on the line an elderly gentleman was asking the gas company attendant when he could get his gas back. She asked, "Why? You don't even have a house." "Well, he replied, "I have my tent beside the lamp in my front yard, and I want to light it, to be able to see at night."

So many folks are still in tents, and it is cold. Families are asking, please do not send Christmas toys. There's nowhere to put toys. We could use blankets though.

There is a city of tents and a city of FEMA trailers. Our friend, Tom, finally got a trailer for his family, but with four growing daughters there is scarcely enough room to turn around in it, so Mom and Dad are sleeping in the house, which is still unrepaired. They are very grateful, but hope soon FEMA can find them another larger trailer.

They were so grateful for a truckload of furniture which came down from Michigan last month, plus the fellowship with the brothers who drove it. Now, in order to keep Dad who is a builder from having a breakdown, they are all heading this weekend to Florida to Disney World and a vist to Grandma's.

Other folks are just glad for a roof, and living in the mold like families did after Hurricane Camille years ago, when no one worried about such things. The eighty year old father of a friend has been itching to return "home," but his house is gone. So they bought him a darling little new house. He has a table and chairs, and only wants a cot. Just can't wait to be back near his W.W. II buddies.

Meanwhile it is also winter in Ukraine. Peter's old friend, Dima, a little orphan boy, continues to chose running away over being sent to a special orphanage for the handicapped. Our friend writes: "Please, pray continually, for God can do miracles and save that boy.

"Thank you for your love and prayers for him. Nobody knows what's happening to this poor boy, but he always runs away. He acknowleges it's not good, and he asks for forgivnes but then, 2 days after he rans?????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Nobody abuse him or rebukes or anything like that.

At our house in Mississippi, nobody is inclined to be out in the cold. We are cozy and warm with no complaints, and it is Christmas time.

Best of all, we have Jesus, and though we miss our dear family in the North, we have this half of our children here, and Maggie's just come home for the holidays.

Back to "Normal"

During the past week Bob has been home from work resting and recovering. It has been peaceful and quietly different having him to myself in the afternoons. He is to return to work Monday.

We are unable and unwilling to put him through another plane trip or overnight car trip just yet, so are settling in our minds that it will be a stay-here Christmas.

If we grow through the hard times more than the easy times - and we do - this will be a growing time for all of us as we lay aside disappointment and open our hearts to God's joyful alternatives to our best laid plans.

In the midst of our coming and going last weekend, a dear friend was hearing from the Lord on our behalf. She finally reached me on my cell phone and gave me the following scripture from the Amplified Bible. It has become my confession for Bob.

"The uncompromisingly righteous shall flourish like the palm tree, be LONG LIVED, stately, upright, useful, and fruitful; they shall grow like a cedar in Lebanon,
majestic, stable, DURABLE, and incorruptible.

Planted in the house of the Lord, they shall flourish in the courts of our God. Growing in grace, they shall still bring forth fruit IN OLD AGE; they shall be full of sap, of spiritual vitality, and rich in the verdure of trust, love, and contentment.

They are LIVING MEMORIALS to show that the Lord is upright and faithful to His promises; He is my Rock, and there is no unrighteousness in Him." Psalm 92:12-15

The Lord is certainly upright and faithful to His promises, isn't He? There is no unrighteousness in Him, and He continues to be "Our Rock" at this house.

Bless All Our Hearts

As Peter and I drove to his field trip, a strange black cloud grew out of nowhere, filled the sky and covered the sun. But around the edges was a brilliant golden glow, and in one spot the sunlight streamed heavenward. It was so striking that a friend later told me she saw it too and went for her camera.

But it was MY cloud. I knew it was, and as I stared at it, the word "Hope" came into my mind.

Bob had called from out of town, and I did not like the sound of his voice one bit. He was too tired sounding, and I asked him to please finish up and come home. But what could I do so far away? Besides, that is, letting God stretch my faith a little further, and trusting Him to watch over our man.

Bob had related how as he'd opened his conference folder, and a paper had fallen out. On it in bold print was Psalm 103 which lists some of the benefits of working for God. "Bless the Lord, O my soul and forget not all his benefits. Who forgives all your iniquities, who heals all you diseases, who crowns you with loving-kindness and tender mercies, WHO DELIVERS YOUR LIFE FROM DESTRUCTION.

He began repeating these words, memorizing them in the airport. Would I too say them and believe them with him?

For the rest of that day, I did. We all did, and prayed that he'd get safely to his plane the next morning and come home. To complicate things, but also growing our capacity to trust God, his cell phone was stolen from a restaurant. Now I couldn't even call to check on him.

I was relieved when I phoned the hotel desk and the girl said he was standing right there. Yes, he had gotten up in the morning and was on his way out the door to catch the airport shuttle, but told me to pray, because something was "not right".

Now, Bob is a great lover of his own bed and a great hater of hospital beds, so it was beyond my hoping that he'd check himself into a hospital. Thankfully, though, I did have Dr. Jesus to keep a finger on his pulse for me and bring him home safely.

After a while I called the airlines and bypassed the prompts by repeating the word, "OPERATOR" until the nice recording gave me one. I then bribed her, against security procedures, to tell me that he had indeed boarded his first flight.

After a 2 hour delay for the second flight, I checked on-line and also dialed the 1-800 number again, to see that the flight had indeed left and would be home in an hour. Repeatedly I was told that the plane had left the gate, but that it was still sitting there in the airport, awaiting the inbound crew.

What? Waiting for the crew on the tarmac? Who was on board taking care of passengers? Who was there in case my husband had a heart attack? And Lord Jesus, where are You?

After an hour more of praying and faith stretching, I got a real live human on the phone and asked why the weird delay. "No delay," she said. "That plane landed in your airport 40 minutes ago."

I "shared" briefly with her that they needed to refresh their updates. Then I grabbed my purse and threw 20 bucks at James for the pizza man. He said, "No problem, Mom," as I flew out the door. From the car I phoned Maggie to come home and watch the boys.

Earlier I had called the doctor and told him I would be whisking Bob directly to the hospital and to be ready. He agreed, especially since on the phone Bob had slipped in that part about the "chest discomfort and shortness of breath."

We got to the hospital, and while his doctor was on his way from a basketball game, Bob had another couple small heart attacks...just for the resident, for demonstration purposes. I laid my hands on his heart during these, rebuked the enemy, and asked God to guard the life of his dear servant.

In the middle of this the doctor arrived, and Rob phoned to say he'd just scored the most points ever at his out-of-town basketball game. Bob smiled, and that kind doctor put his arm around me and prayed for us, for wisdom and skill for himself, as he would immediately do an artery catheterization to find out if and where the blockages were.

He escorted me to the waiting room. After a half hour dozing and praying there, I heard the phone ring. It was the resident. "We see where the problem is and are ready to go ahead and put in a couple little stents to stretch out the artery. Then the blood can get through."

They proceeded to do so right then and there. Afterwards the O.R. nurse smiled at me and said how smart we were get it all done in one evening. Hmm, it is God Who is the clever One.

Amazing, after 23 hours he was 'good to go' and we left for home and his own bed for a week's rest and relaxation.....

All this week the boys have been memorizing a Bible verse they brought home from church. Until I really looked at it, because it was about hearts, I thought it might be for Bob.

"A new heart also I will give you, and a new spirit will I put within you: and I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you a heart of flesh," Ezekiel 36:26.

Then I looked again and realized it was me who needs the new heart. I want to be a better person, love more deeply, have God remove all hardness from my heart of stone, and give this old Pharisee a tender, forgiving, non-judgmental heart of flesh.

It's easy to fake it when you are a writer, but those near and dear to me know I need it. I ask please for your prayers.