Sunday, November 30, 2014

The Dew Fall

 

The word "dew" had come up twice in the past two weeks when I began writing this post a few weeks ago. It was odd to me that Charlie and Madi had both asked about this simple word--and its meaning--one after the other, on separate occasions. Of course, my explanation to both of them was based upon the scientific definition--moisture condensed from the atmosphere, especially at night, and appearing in the form of mist on a cool surface.
 
But then--that Sunday at Mass--my ears suddenly perked up when I heard that very word used in our Eucharistic prayer! I don't know how many countless times I've heard this reference in our Eucharistic prayers, but only had I truly paid attention to it that day, and it seemed so compelling. 

As Father Bosso joined his hands and extended them over the offerings, he said, 

"Make holy, therefore, these gifts, we pray, by sending down your spirit upon them like the dew fall, so that they may become for us the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ." 

 "Like the "dew fall," he'd said!  I felt the Holy Spirit at work, and felt drawn to look it up in the Dictionary after Mass that day to find this beautiful meaning...

"something like or compared to such drops of moisture, 
as in purity, delicacy, or refreshing quality."

So I started really putting two and two together. Friends, as I reflect on this day that marks the beginning of our Advent season, isn't that exactly what God our Father does? Sends His Holy Spirit upon us in a "refreshing quality," giving us just that--a beginning--a refreshing of our souls, like the dew fall? And only, if our hearts are open, will we hear His calling. Only then will we receive the gift of that dew fall.

As we all prepare our hearts, and our minds, for the birth of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ this Advent season, let us be more mindful of the dew fall. May your journey of preparation be blessed.

Biblical references to "Dew fall:"

These are 'the morning clouds and the early dew that go away' of which Hosea (6:4; 13:3) speaks so touchingly" (Geikie's The Holy Land, etc., i., p. 72).  

Dew is a source of great fertility (Gen. 27:28; Deut. 33:13; Zech. 8:12), and its withdrawal is regarded as a curse from God (2 Sam. 1:21; 1 Kings 17:1).  

It is the symbol of a multitude (2 Sam. 17:12; Ps. 110:3); and from its refreshing influence it is an emblem of brotherly love and harmony (Ps. 133:3), and of rich spiritual blessings (Hos. 14:5).

Saturday, November 8, 2014

The Heart of Adoption

It is National Adoption Month. I love, love, love seeing all the wonderful posts through my Facebook news feed this month...stories of faith, testimonies of love, the sharing of inspiration.

But I do believe my heart has witnessed the beginning of something too amazing for words.

I was recently called by a friend to ask if I would be willing to talk with one of her friends about adoption. My answer, naturally, was a resounding yes. I adore any opportunity to share this gift...this blessed calling of adoption, and I am honored to be a part.

There was more to this story though. Without giving away too many details that might risk revealing her identity, I will just divulge that this woman has lost a child...a son. And her child was taken from her in a very tragic and high-profile way at the hands of another human being.

It gives me chills every time I think about it.

You see, despite this woman's devastating circumstances, she has opened her heart to the idea of adopting a child who needs a family. This mother has every right to be mad at the world, to be angry and bitter to mankind, and she has every reason to question her faith. Her loss is unimaginable. 

Yet, our God is bigger. 

Our sovereign God has taken that painful, empty space in her heart and has planted this great seed of hope. The fact that she's even exploring this process speaks volumes. And I just know, if she allows this to happen, that hole within her will be filled...with joy, with love, and with a saving grace like no other. 

Will it replace her son?  Nope. Can't be done. As I know from our own loss, their angel will be never be forgotten. But when I think about the joy this family might experience in such giving of themselves? It is just overwhelming...

Our God is bigger...our God is better.

Will you please join me in prayer for this family? Please pray that they have the courage to follow their hearts and trust our Heavenly Father on this journey. Please pray that those holes of grief in their hearts are filled. And please pray that if they are able to move forward with an adoption, our Lord will provide abundantly on their behalf. Thank you for your prayer intentions for this family, and all of those whose hearts are moved to the ministry of adoption during this special time. May more children find HOMES through those hearts.

Monday, August 4, 2014

Stand up with Rini and help the Little Flowers!

Many of you who have invested your hearts in the blogs of the adoption world know the face of Rini Ann Yongling Olson, and have watched miracles unfold through her adoption.

This child was dying in a Chinese PICU.


But, halfway across the world, a woman was advocating for her...fiercely determined to find her family. In the months that followed, dozens of families reviewed her file, yet no one moved forward, and Andrea began to think that perhaps she was meant to mother this baby. So the Olson family decided to fight for her. Andrea and Eric Olson fully believed in her chance to live. They opened their hearts, and they said, "Yes, Lord" to love this child as their daughter.

Their road was not an easy one. The adoption agency, Holt, (which happens to be our adoption agency, and how I met Andrea) had to fight for this family, too especially when her eligibility for adoption was rescinded by Chinese officials because of the status of her health.  

God was on their side.

He paved a way, against all odds, and expedited her adoption, as well as permitting the adoption to finally take place after it was blocked again after the family arrived in China.

And in the process, we all adopted her, didn't we?  I know I did.

Rini flew home from China and was immediately admitted to the hospital. Her beginnings were rough as her frail and severely malnourished body tried to figure out how to accept food and nourishment from tubes. There were more than a few times when it seemed it might all be too much for her little anatomy to take. But she kept fighting.

Two weeks later, the decision was made to allow Rini to go home with the hope that the home environment would be beneficial to her, and that perhaps she would begin to gain weight, nutritionally stabilize, and with that, perhaps her cardiac function would improve.  We all rejoiced with the Olson family, at Rini's mere chance to be home. God showed us His mercy through His miracles, day by day. But nine days later, Rini had declined and gone into respiratory failure.

And then there were more setbacks...

Her cardiac disease was end stage, and had rendered her inoperable. It was clear there was only one answer to give Rini her chance at life--a heart transplant. However, because of the level of her malnourishment and anatomical issues, she was denied transplant evaluation. She remained in the hospital for weeks as her team desperately tried to manage her declining cardiac disease while improving her metabolic state enough for a transplant center to consent to an evaluation. Finally, in mid-October, Seattle Children's Hospital agreed to take her and she and her mother were transported via air ambulance.

We all walked with them through the process of having her listed, but within two weeks of being added to the cardiac transplant waiting list, she had suffered two cardiac arrests and was on life support. Nineteen days after being listed, the Olson family received the call changed their lives. As they rejoiced at this new God-given lease on Rini's life, they realized that another family had to lose life. They had to say goodbye to their little loved one, filled with sorrow and grief. But what an amazing sacrifice to give--the healthy heart that coursed blood through the veins of their child, would now be placed inside another; giving another child and another family the gift of life they'd desperately prayed for.

Rini's broken heart, which had continued beating erratically and weakly the the way to the operating room, suffered its final arrest as she was being transitioned from ECMO to cardio-pulmonary bypass.  One of her nurses said she'd never seen anything like it. Her diseased heart, which had worked so hard to maintain her life for 24 months, knew exactly when it was time to let go; there were no twitches, no attempts from her heart to keep going, just stillness and peace. God knew, and His timing was no accident. The five-hour transplant stretched to twelve, and the next months gave way to more time on life support, another cardiac arrest, and a myriad of complications. Over three months after her transplant, Rini finally left the hospital. Six months after bringing her home from China, this precious child finally came home to her brothers and sisters for good.

From that time, we've watched her blossom through the months.  She continues to flourish as she bonds with her siblings, exhibits her sassy personality, and learns how to trust and love the ones who built their fortress on God's promises...her parents.


I cannot imagine the financial burden they've taken on. When the Holy Spirit set it in my heart to do a book fundraiser for the Olson family, I reached out to Andrea first, and we had a deep and faith-filled discussion about their feelings on the subject. What I found out is that, though they are buried in debt right now, they have always had a tough time with the idea of accepting money because, "first, we have chosen this path and second, even buried in debt we are still better off than the majority of the world." 

Andrea says, "The burden we carry is light when taken in context with what so many others endure. Our financial situation will not force us to abandon our children, nor will it result in our children being denied medical care. The heaviest burden we could possibly carry was lifted off of us on the day that another family's choice to donate their child's organs saved our daughter's life. We are rich indeed, in ways that only come from God, and ultimately we believe that He will fortify us and enable us to financially recover. Our wish is to bless other children and families and to help ease their suffering."

Can you imagine such a gracious response? But our conversation was pulled to something bigger. Andrea admitted that all the while her daughter was suffering, she could not stop thinking of all the millions of children just like Rini, who haven't been given another chance at life. There are so many orphaned children, who remain nameless and faceless to us, and whose existence has been become simply "waiting to perish" because they have no one to fight for them.

And so, our idea of a fundraiser to help the Olson family has been honed into something much finer. Yes, this fundraiser will be in honor of Rini, and in memory of our son, Daniel, but the funds will be given to help those who haven't been given their chance yet, and desperately need help to survive. 

This fundraiser will benefit The Little Flower Projects, as Andrea's choice. They provide 24-hour intensive nursing care, medical treatment, foster care, long-term care, and education to orphaned children across six projects in several locations of China. We've recently learned that they are in a desperate crisis for funding.

While our complete fundraising plans continue to develop, I would like to kick it off by offering this: for each copy of With an Open Heart purchased this month, we will donate $10 (100% of the proceeds) to The Little Flower Projects. Please note that it must be purchased through the Paypal link in the right column of this website for the fundraiser, only because we have zero control over books sold through online distribution and royalties are very slim. Andrea embraced our Daniel's story from the minute she heard about it two years ago. God brought us together because of our shared love for heart babies and orphans. Our family sees this mission as a beautiful way to share our precious Daniel's story, to honor Rini and her heart hero, and mostly to help those who don't have a voice. 

This week, as I watched a new video of Rini standing for the first time, it felt so BIG. Each and every one of her milestones reminds me just how tender and precious life is. There have been rough patches; there have been setbacks for Rini. But she LIVES. And now, she STANDS!!  When I saw this video, I knew that the Holy Spirit had delivered the perfect name for our fundraiser, so please help us STAND UP WITH RINI!  Together we can make a difference for those who need our support more than we could ever imagine. Now that's something to get excited about.

Monday, July 7, 2014

An excerpt from Chapter One.

It was five years ago that we received the call about him, our first son. It seems so far away, yet still feels so close in my heart. I am sure that, since everything about him is etched in our hearts forever, each year's anniversary will feel this way--sentimental yet completely joyful that we said "yes" to his adoption (and to the Holy Spirit) even though he's passed on.

Here is an excerpt from Chapter One of With an Open Heart about those life changing moments:

I vividly remember the day I received the phone call from Holt, our adoption agency with news of a referral. It was July 7th, 2009, and I was returning from errands to the grocery store and the bank. Madi, and my friend Sherril’s daughter, Julianna, were in the back seat of our minivan. I answered my cell phone, and heard the voice of Beth, our Holt agent, telling me that they had a little boy who needed a home. I’ll never forget that moment, as tears welled up in my eyes, and I could barely speak—or drive, for that matter!

Here’s when I should back up about two weeks to June 24th, which was the day my Mother-in-Law (whom I’ll refer to as Grandma Pauline) passed away. She’d had a long, drawn-out battle with uterine cancer, and her body finally succumbed to the struggle. Grandma Pauline had been incredibly involved in Madi’s life, and they had been very, very close. Jimmy and I had been mentally bracing ourselves for this loss, but how do you possibly prepare a three-year old child to enter this territory?

The morning that we lost Grandma Pauline, Jimmy and I went in Madi’s bedroom to break the news to her. We had a couple of treasures to give Madi for keeps—the stuffed dog, Willy, that Madi had lovingly given her Grandma to keep her company in the hospital, and a wind-up musical cross that Madi had picked out in the hospital gift shop. I remember the day we bought it. Madi marched into the gift shop and made a beeline right to that cross. There must have been at least fifty different music boxes, but Madi went straight for the cross. There was no way I could deny her. I didn’t even realize that it was a music box until we took it to the register, and the clerk wound it up for us. It played the song “Memories” from the musical “Cats,” which was the same tune that Madi’s music box at home played. It was beautifully appropriate, and Grandma Pauline had cherished it. 

That morning in Madi’s bedroom, as Jimmy and I handed over those treasures to her, we also had to conjure up the right words to explain that Grandma had gone to Heaven. As the three of us cried together, all huddled on her bed, Jimmy and I told our daughter that Grandma had an important job to do—she was going find us a baby. 

Later that day, we were emailed the file about Weifeng Hong, a baby boy from Nanchang, in China’s Jiangxi province, born February 2nd, 2008. This little guy, born on Groundhog Day, had multiple heart conditions—all of which sounded grave—but what did we know? In hindsight, ignorance was bliss.

So, when the phone rang two weeks later with our news of a baby, I knew in my heart that he was the one. I tried like mad to keep my composure, especially with the kids in the car. I drove straight home and ran inside the house to call Jimmy, praying all the while that after mentally enduring so much with the loss of his mother, he would feel the same way. My husband was cautiously optimistic, and agreed that we should pursue getting more information. I sensed that he could barely wait to get home. 

We were told that he had been found outside the gates of a prominent residential community. There was no birth note with him. He had been sent to the Nanchang Social Welfare Institute by the public security bureau on September 2nd, 2008, and the children’s department in the Institute estimated his date of birth and named him. On admission, he was about seven months old. 

The report described him as a lovely and fat little boy, with big bright eyes and white skin. His development was normal, and his personality sounded perfect to us. How does one possibly give up their child after seven months of togetherness? It still tortures my heart to think about it. Whoever placed him there must have loved him and cared about him. It is likely that they couldn’t provide the medical care that he needed. 

Jimmy and I read his file over and over, just wanting to soak up every detail, and know him more intimately. We stared at his pictures intensely and studied every beautiful detail. Those big, brown eyes were calling for us to come back to China. For those of you who haven’t adopted a child, the idea of falling in love with a photo may sound strange. But I can assure you that it actually happens. Perhaps it is the same feeling that biological parents experience when they see the first ultrasound image of their unborn baby—that pure love that swells into a tidal wave of hopes and dreams."
 
If this part of our sweet boy's life and the journey that would follow interest you, please order the a copy of the memoir that is dedicated to his life! If you use the Paypal link on this page in the right column to purchase, we can donate the proceeds to orphan care ministries in Daniel's memory!

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Heaven sent

You might remember, from With an Open Heart, that our local friends and faith community hosted a fundraising event in November of 2010 to help us bring Charlie home.

Our friends had also designed bracelets that were "tickets" for the event. They were green rubber bracelets that read "Think of Daniel."  I cried when they gave one to me.

Three and a half years later, I still wear this bracelet every day

About a month ago, I noticed that my bracelet had changed a bit. In fact, I realized that "Think of Daniel" wasn't even legible anymore from the years of wear. The words had disappeared totally. But I kept thinking--as I'd look down--that it didn't really matter if I could read those words or not. Because I know them in my heart.

This afternoon, I delivered Madi to my friend Carrie's house for a playdate with her daughters. You might remember reading about Carrie in the book, too. She is one of my most treasured sisters-in-Christ.

Madi knocked on the door, and as I was about to drive away once she was united with her friends, the girls came running out of the house toward the van shouting, "Here! My mom told us to give this to YOU!"

They handed me a brand new "Think of Daniel" bracelet.  How on earth did she know?

I'm certain The Holy Spirit must've whispered in her ear. And I believe Daniel knew that his Mommy needed a new bracelet.

Heaven sent.

Sunday, June 15, 2014

Father's Day and the Holy Trinity

I didn't realize, until we'd hustled into Mass this morning, that it was a special day for more than the obvious reason of Father's Day.

The Most Holy Trinity. 

I took a minute to breathe it all in, and as we sang the Responsorial Psalm lyrics of "Glory and praise forever!",  I glanced up at the projection screen in shock.

The Psalm read, "Daniel 3; Most Holy Trinity, Year A"

Daniel.  Our son was called Home to Heaven on Trinity Sunday four years ago.

And even though it's the date of May 30th that we remember and honor his passing each year, Trinity Sunday is also so very meaningful to me, if not more so than the calendar anniversary. What a beautiful day to die, on the Holy day that honors the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit. Feels like a gift somehow.

I couldn't help but think about how interesting that Father's Day and Trinity Sunday coincided this year. That Daniel and Jimmy never shared a Father's Day together, yet Jimmy adored being his Dad every single day. And while Daniel couldn't be there to celebrate Father's Day with my husband today, he is living the ultimate Father's Day with God, our eternal Father.

I looked over at silly Charlie, who lies about the pew--and his parents--as if he's on his living room sofa, and Madi, who knows it all, or at last the half of it, and I thought about how blessed they are to have Jimmy as their loving Father.

My mind then traveled to China and thought of Joseph. This will be his last Father's Day without one, thank God. Next year, he'll celebrate, too, and he'll be right there in those pews with us as we praise the Lord.

Then, I thought about how truly blessed Jimmy and I are to both have our Fathers living with us here on earth, when so many of you don't. This is something I don't take lightly, nor do I take it for granted.

I've been feeling like an emotional rollercoaster today. Sad, because I miss him. Happy that he is where he is. And with a tear scattered here and there throughout the day, how can I not feel just completely blessed and joyful?  Especially as I "take stock" in all of it?

Thank you, our gracious and ever-loving God, for being the ultimate Father of unconditional love and forgiveness.

"For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life." -- John 3:16

Happy Father's Day.

Tuesday, May 27, 2014

The Other Side of Goodbye

Couldn't quite figure out why I've felt so grumpy lately.  I mean, I have no reason at all for any emotion short of pure joy. Everything has been working in our favor, it seems, and life is just so darn good, all glory to God. Our family is happy and healthy. Our adoption process is moving right along. And the Lord's abundance has surely shown up for us in the way of financial provision for our adoption.

But something has been gnawing at my heart. 

I worked in the kitchen this weekend, tidying up senseless details around the house, examining every negative thought and feeling, and then, suddenly, it emerged from my subconsciousness.

He died. And on May 30th, he's going to die all over again. 

We relive it each year, yet somehow it seems to get buried into the depths of our hearts and minds as we keep busy, though we know the day and time is closing in on us again.

Early Sunday morning, we attended a Mass given by a young Priest from the Seminary.  This man--this Holy man and a visitor to our Parish that morning--fed me the precise homily that my heart needed to hear.

He spoke, as the Feast of Ascension and Pentecost approach us, about New Life as a result of Jesus bearing His burden on the cross and giving His life for ours.

He talked about the mystery of "the other side of goodbye."

He shared the mystery of how God takes those experiences--those goodbyes--and shapes us through them. We all have them, but goodbyes take on different form and meaning in each of our lives. For some, it might be a departure to a new season of life, or a major change. For others, it's the physical loss of a loved one. He proclaimed that what happens as a result of "the other side of goodbye" is New Life. The resurrection and the promises of God are too strong to have it any other way.

I suppose I don't have to tell you what my "goodbye" was all about. And as this Priest sermoned about how the relationships are still there, just different, I felt joy in my heart. As usual, tears came, and I couldn't help but marvel, in all humility, at how God's stretched me in four years time. Because I know exactly what's taken place on the other side of my goodbye...

--a memoir of Daniel written with all of my heart poured into it, designed to help those who grieve, to help those who are called to adopt, and created to share a testimony of God's grace during the unimaginable.

--a much stronger love, in my heart, for the orphan. Our desire to help the least of these has only deepened, and through those depths, we strive to to make a difference in our son's memory.

--Charlie. Charlie Murphy. Would we have this crazy boy to love if not for Daniel?

--Joseph. Joseph Holt. He seems like just a dream to us now. We can only imagine what blessings will be born from answering this call. We hope and pray that love can pave a road to happiness and peace on the other side of his goodbye from all that he's familiar with. 

--a deeper faith. Perhaps this should've been first on my list. I am so thankful for the grace the Lord's given me on the other side of goodbye. I am so eternally grateful that He's cradled me in His arms to get me through the painful days. My faith has strengthened in this process. I'm so blessed that's He's shown me such goodness on the other side of my goodbye.

And when I think about what's on the other side of Daniel's goodbye, it's ALL good. He's in the best place ever.  I cling to that.

So, what's your goodbye?

Maybe it's time take an inventory of the New Life on the other side...