The Reader's Digest version

Wow, I've been so bogged down with stuff that I haven't really had time to blog; aside from being a newly minted dad I've had to (secretly) plan for Angel's 40th birthday party - thanks again to everyone who showed up - and prepare my first sermon in almost two years. My sermon last Sunday went well; no rotten tomatoes thrown at me and everyone stayed awake. Got some good feedback, so I'm glad that all my hard work paid off and touched some people's lives. But now that things have slowed a bit I have time for a post; problem is I wasn't sure what I was going to write about... til someone I've reconnected with recently wanted the lowdown on how our adoption went. So Christine, this is for you and everyone else who wants the Reader's Digest version of how Angel & I became parents. I hope you and everyone else will enjoy it.

For the past few years Angel & I had been talking about revisiting the adoption thing, as we had gone down that road 10 years before but it wasn't a good experience for us. We finally put in an application in October 2008; little did we know how our lives were going to change in the span of 12 months! So much had changed since we last applied to adopt; while we felt like we were left to fend for ourselves 10 years earlier, this time we had support every step along the way. There was always someone along the journey, a worker who was there for us to answer our questions or just to see how we were doing. All the paperwork was taken care of for us, with the exception of getting our references done. In January 2009 we enrolled in the Adoption Orientation Training, which was probably the most grueling part of the process. Eight classes in four weeks, and every time class was over a black cloud just hung over my head. So much information, and so much of it was disturbing, about the needs and issues of children in foster care. The feeling I had was, "What am I getting myself into?" For Angel it wasn't so bad but still it put a lot of pressure on us. Fortunately the very last class ended on a more hopeful note, which helped ease some of our anxiety.

In March we had our home assessment done, where a worker comes and checks out your living space and, more importantly, assesses what kind of a person you are. There were several meetings with lots of grueling questions, but in the end our worker felt that we were suitable candidates and recommended us to be approved as adoptive parents. It wasn't until May however that we got a letter saying we had been officially approved (effective the month before). Waiting for any news about being approved was tough but we were ecstatic that it finally came through. Getting an offer of furniture the very next day, without mentioning any of our needs, told us that God's blessing was on the process. From then on we were assigned a placement worker; her name is Sharon and she is such a delightful lady to work with. She came to our place and we fine tuned our profile (every adoptive parent fills out a profile of what needs they feel they're able to meet in an adoptive child) and from there the matching process began. By now it was June; we had rearranged our home to make room for a child, and all we could do was wait. In the meantime we enjoyed our summer holidays and I worked on finishing my studies with Prairie Bible College. By August we were, in our minds, settling in for a long wait as we knew the matching process could take years. Little did we know our lives would be turned upside down in a month...

September 2009. Sharon comes to our home with a file containing some basic information on a 10 year old girl who, in her words, feels like a good match. When Sharon came to us that night we felt in our hearts that this was the one - this little girl whose name was Jessica. It wasn't rational to think it was, with only minimal information, but we felt it was a "God thing." With the possibility, if all things went well, of a placement happening by Christmas, the pressure was on to make a decision and tie up the loose ends of our lives (like school and kitchen renos). But before we could seriously consider moving forward with this specific child we had to be approved by a committee of case workers. On the evening of September 25, 2009, Sharon came to our home to deliver the news - we got the green light to move forward with Jessica. The committee approved us unanimously (a rare occurrence we were told) and we were selected over 8 other families. From here we went on to meet Dale, Jess' placement worker, along with other professionals who worked with Jessica. Only after this were we allowed to make a formal decision. It was a no-brainer, and everyone knew what our answer was going to be all along. The more we learned about Jessica, the more we wanted to be her Mom & Dad. On Monday, November 2, 2009 we informed Sharon that we wanted to adopt Jessica.

November 5, 2009. We meet Jessica for the first time. She looks nothing like her photo, which we weren't allowed to see until we "locked in our final answer" - she's even more beautiful that the picture we have of her. The meeting was the start of a month long pre-placement process, which we called the "dating" phase. It was tough. Jess had a lot of mixed feelings about us and about being adopted, and it took time to get through her armor. This was healthy in a way, because if she took to us right away then she would have taken to anyone. But towards the end of November everyone involved was looking forward to move-in day. On Sunday, December 6, 2009, Jess came to stay with us forever. It was the end of an emotional process and the beginning of a new, challenging yet wonder life as a family. It was also the fulfillment of a prophetic word we received in the first year of our marriage, that we would become parents at Christmastime. And over the next three months we have been settling into our new life as a family. There's been a few bumps on the road but so much more blessing. And as I'm sharing an even more condensed version of this story with the people who came to Jess' adoption party last Saturday I see her mouth these words; words which tell you how excited she was to get on with the evening, and how she's got her old man pegged:

"Hurry up, Dad!"

Give

We've all seen it in the news lately about the devastation in Haiti, and though I don't usually write social commentaries I felt compelled to speak out about people's response to this disaster, and to the plight of the poor in general. Now before I begin I want to be careful about not throwing stones in glass houses here; I don't want to rant about how people aren't doing enough to help those in need. In fact the question of how much help is enough is a relative one. I recognize that there are a lot of caring people in the world who want to make a difference. I admire those who dedicate their lives to alleviating the suffering of others in the world, both in big and small ways. You don't have to be a Mother Theresa in order to make a difference, and that most people show their care for others in the little things they do. If you are one of those people, I salute you.

I imagine that I am about to preach to the converted here, that most people who bother to read what I say already fit into the above category. What I want to do here is raise the level of compassion in people, starting in myself. But mostly I want to challenge the indifference that's out there. And there may be more than we realize. Recently I read an online poll which asked people how they were contributing to the Haitian relief effort. The poll gave various options (online, telephone, etc.) but also allowed for an "I'm not giving" response. Guess what the survey revealed: 59% of respondents said they weren't planning on giving. Now I realize that this wasn't a scientific poll, but rather a reflection of everyone who responded. It also contrasts a similar online poll which asked a simple yes or no to whether the respondent planned to give to Haiti (it was an even 50-50 split). But still, I found it shocking that 50-59% of respondents would even admit that they weren't lifting a finger to help the poorest nation in the western hemisphere in its greatest hour of need.

Consider this fact: we who live in the developed world account for 20% of the world's population. We who are the 20% control 80% of the wealth in the world. This is a fact I have (sadly) been able to verify. What I haven't been able to verify (so far) is this statement, that 80% of the charitable giving raised in the developed world stays in the developed world. In other words we, in the developed world, may very well be throwing table scraps to the poor. As I said I haven't been able to verify that statement but I'm waiting to hear back from a research institute who can hopefully answer my query on the matter. But I suspect there's a lot of truth to it, nonetheless. How often have we heard it said, "Charity begins at home"? Perhaps this is a perversion of another phrase, "Think globally, act locally."

Again, I'm not saying we should all go out and try and save the world, sell your house, walk around in rags and run soup kitchens. All I'm saying here is that we should all give. And if we all give we don't need to give a lot. If people choose one or two worthy causes and support them on a monthly basis it would make a world of difference. For years now Angel & I have supported Hope International, a development agency that helps people in developing nations help themselves. We also support Kiva, a microfinacing organization that lends money to entrepreneurs in developing nations. I'm not sharing this to get a pat on the back, but to make a point: if people like us who don't have a lot (in comparison to most people in our society) can share what we have with the poorest of the poor, then most people can too.

I don't care who you give to, so long as you give - something, anything. It just might make a difference to someone out there, especially when you live amongst the rubble of what was once your neighborhood. Or country for that matter.