I'm going to be a mother-in-law!!!!!

 

Our "son," Iman is getting MARRIED!!!!!!!! 

 

We are SO proud and SO happy for you, Iman! 

 

 (is this not the most gorgeous photo you have EVER seen???)

....now to get ourselves to Jakarta to hug the bride and groom! 

:-)

Remember THIS post? 

Look what happens when a few thousand people decide

"that's not okay" and shine light onto darkness! 

Change.org members teamed up with anti-trafficking groups in a massive campaign to get Cragislist to shut down their "adult services" sections, which had become the biggest source of ads for sex trafficking victims in the world. After 11,612 Change.org members signed a petition to founder Craig Newmark and a coordinated campaign published letters of protest from girls formerly sold for sex on the site, Craigslist shut down their U.S. based adult ad pages in September -- leading to a 48% drop in the overall volume of prostitution ads online and shrinking the online commercial sex industry by a projected $37 million this year.

(change.org)

Click HERE for the full story. 

...and HERE for a happy addendum! 

And because I love this SO MUCH, I'm posting it again.  :-)

Merry Christmas! 

Cliff Notes

How many times have you considered sharing kindness with someone and then let your thoughts get the best of you? 

You see the frantic mama at Target, a child climbing her leg and begging for every item they see, darting off when she loses grasp only for a second, a baby in the cart crying unstoppably with strangers gawking, shaking their heads with the silent "tsk tsk," now losing patience and growling angry "knock it offs," or worse, at the little ones watching, and learning...a list of items to find and exhaustion written all over her body. 

You know what to do.  You know exactly what she's feeling in that moment. 

We all do. 

But what if we ask to help and she snarls at us?  What if she tells me to mind my own business?  What if she gets offended?  What if it's uncomfortable?  What if I'll be late to my next stop?  What if...? 

I'm no stranger to this game, and let me tell you when it
beats me, I regret it.  Every. Single. Time. 

Why didn't I do something?  Maybe all she really needed in that moment was a friend...a warm body...someone to say, "You're not gonna' do this alone."  Could it be that that's why I was there and that's why she was there, in that aisle, together, we mothers?  I'll never know.  And neither will she. 

What if we didn't listen to these voices in our heads that tell us that the guy with the sign on the street corner is going to spend your hard earned precious cash on alcohol?  That the guy in the wheelchair at Wal-Mart would be offended if you reached for something on the top shelf for him?  That the frazzled mama at the park (or the store or church or sidewalk or....oh let's face it, we mama's work our tails off and are more often than not are...frazzled) isn't going to snap our heads off when we offer an understanding hand? 

What if we give some of our money away and we actually DO have enough for our own family at the end of the month?  

What if that teeny tiny financial contribution we actually CAN make to larger-picture projects (like wells for clean water, global food crisis relief, or even rescuing girls from living nightmares) really won't go to pay high-priced overhead executives and really will work in unison with thousands of other teeny tiny contributions to CHANGE. THE. WORLD? 

I tell my girls (and myself, the one who REALLY needs to hear it),

"If you get a chance to love someone...take it." 

Don't let the "what if's" or the "there's nothing I can do's" or the "I've got enough on my own plate's" rob you of this.  This chance is precious and fleeting.  The frazzled mom's going to disappear back into her life.  The homeless guy's going to find a different corner and sleep on a different cold ground with the same old hunger in his belly.  The starving child will die.  The enslaved girl will die over and over again, every day.   

Take the chance. 

Here's a little guy named Cliff. 

I ran into him on Rage Against the Minivan as the author quoted a woman who had visited (and adopted from) an orphange where Cliff is from, a country where at age 3, abandoned special needs children are subjected to a life in a mental institution.  Life, of course, is a relative term.

The woman's account is long, but once I began reading, there was no stopping.  By the end, I knew I was standing face to face with a chance. 

Please find a quiet moment to read what she said. 

It is important. 

And it's happening now. 

“I’m not sure how it all works. There surely must be a time in an orphan's life when they are separated into groups of healthy children, those with special needs, and the few with profound needs. Even if you have never been into a third world country orphanage, it goes without saying that NO child deserves to live in a place like that. But, it is [very sadly] a fact of life. We live in a fallen world and until Jesus returns to take us home, places like these will exist.

I have noticed that sometimes children with special needs are in the same rooms as healthy children. Like our Harper–she was in a room with one or two kiddos who had ‘needs’, but the others were all typically developing children. Harper got a good deal. My guess is that the orphanage workers saw that she was developing fairly well, and she got put with the mixed group of children.

Hailee on the other hand was not so fortunate. I’m sure her development as an infant must have been lagging–a definite red flag for those who make decisions as to which room the children will live in. The result being that our sweet girl ended up in the place I refer to as that room. The room for the precious children who have more profound needs–those who struggle more than others.

It’s a heartbreaking place. I cannot even begin to describe the feelings and emotions that overcame me each day I walked into that horrible room to take my Hailee out of her crib.

Hailee was one of just six children. It’s hard to tell whether the others are boys or girls. The children there are dressed in whatever is available on the day, and their hair is kept ultra short for convenience. Most of you who have journeyed with me throughout this adoption know that Hailee was drugged–day and night. On the day I met Hailee I was given all her medical information (which was all of two lines), and told that she was on medication for “best sleep”. Um, yeah, the kind that kept her so sedated that she could barely function. A strong tranquilizer for ADULTS. All in the name of “best sleep”. Unfortunately, I am sad to tell you that Hailee was not just an isolated case, a child who had behavior problems that justified the drug. The drug was required for every single child in that room.

The children there cannot function. They sleep most of their lives away. They are so sedated that they can barely keep their eyes open, even when they are awake. They merely exist from day to day.

I cried like I have never wept. Looking at their sweet faces just about killed me. I was not allowed to pick the children up out of the cribs. But each day I walked around to each one of those precious souls lying there and gently stroked their faces and rubbed their frail, malnourished bodies. I longed for them to know the joy of a tender touch. It was something they knew absolutely nothing about. Not once in all my weeks of visiting did I see any of these children picked up and loved. Never! Even crying children, longing for arms to hold them, never got picked up and loved. They were taken out of the crib ONLY to be fed and changed. How do I know these things? Because the Lord gave me a window to see the things He needed me to see. He allowed my heart to break for the things that break His. Images I cannot escape.

Many, many of you have written to me and asked me about what happened to Hailee here. I could not say anything at the time–our adoption could have been threatened. I still need to be cautious for the sake of other adopting families. I will say that I inquired about what happened. I wept as I held my daughter that day–in my heart I knew that she had suffered at the hands of those who were meant to care for her, those who were meant to love and protect her?

One day I could not take anymore. I had been there a long time, and the things I saw day after day were beginning to wear me down. I walked into the building and saw that there was a group of Americans working with many of the kids. They were staff from a clinic that works with children who have special needs here in the USA. They had taken over wheelchairs, leg braces, and many other kinds of therapeutic things for kids in a few orphanages. They did an incredible job. It was so amazing to see. I watched them as they fitted child after child with braces. The joy of seeing many of them standing on their legs for the first time was priceless. I looked for some of the children from Hailee’s room–but there were none. I was later told from my translator that the clinic workers were not allowed to help those kids.

Oh God in heaven, how can it be? More than most, they need help. They need braces. They need to learn how to stand on their own two feet. They need wheelchairs. Yet, they’re the one group not permitted to get the help they so desperately need. They’re the children locked away and forgotten about.

Do you want to see them? The ones I had to leave behind? Would you like to see the faces I looked at one last time, turned my back on, and had to walk away from…knowing the life they lead? The angelic faces I feel so powerless, yet so desperate to help. 

How will this teeny tiny angel survive a mental asylum? How? There is no way. Unless a family comes to adopt him, he will surely die. My heart cannot comprehend it all. He is just too sweet for words. He reminds me so much of Hailee. He too has the bump on his forehead from banging it against the bars of the crib.

These children wear pajamas all day long–it is all they know.

The cribs are crammed into a very little room.

They lie there longing for someone to pick them up.

This is no life for a child–any child. Whether they have ’special needs’ or not, NO child deserves this.

Here is a chance to love someone.  I saw it and told myself,
"You can't afford this right now.  Someone else will do it.  We already gave to _______ this month.  Even if you gave, you could only give a tiny amount, and what good is that going to do?"  (some of us are slow learners)  ;-)  I even left the site and continued on with my day. 

But the truth was heavy. 

And the chance was there. 

And the stakes were high.   

I pushed the "ChipIn" button and gave my embarrassingly 
small contribution in thought of sweet 'lil Cliff and the God of
loaves and fishes who brought me to that site to meet Cliff and who gave me, the slow learner, the chance to love someone. 

Go HERE for your chance to love on sweet baby Cliff. 

I promise you there is no greater investment.

p.s. We Love You

Christmas greetings came all the way from Taiwan this week! 

 

It was so fun unwrapping the goodies and
tasting something so uniquely Taiwan.

The girls wasted no time planning their attack. 

 

As we broke the seals and removed the labels, I couldn't help but smile knowing our far away "sons" had touched the very same seals and lovingly taped those very labels in place in thought of us. 
 

If it's possible to send a hug in the mail, they have done it. 

Merry Christmas to beautiful Taiwan and our sweet family there.  

We love and miss you!

Invisible People



Check out Invisible People TV on YouTube! 

(don't forget to scroll to the bottom of the
blog and mute the music player first!)



Brrrrrrrr....

The story around here...WINTER! 

HUGE snow storm moved through over the weekend, and we are buried!  Now the temps have fallen below 0, and I'm thinking my house is nice and warm and there's really no need to go ANYwhere. 

Brrrrrr....! 

The thermometer this morning....
and yes, that's a MINUS sign in front of the 13!

Bren and I did get out over the weekend for a long overdue date.  We stuck close to home with all the snow falling and downed some french fries and chocolate shakes at McD's while working on a blog of her own that she's been wanting to start for some time now.  I'll keep you posted when she makes her first post, but she wants to write about homeschooling, post some of her writing, book reviews and whatever else pops into her sweet little head (with the help and supervision of her mama, of course!). 

A Stitch in Time

What’s special about this picture?

When I took it, I couldn’t help but smile.

She’s painting her face, but do you see how they’re doing this thing?
Together? There’s touch and care in each expression and sharing of breath and space as if they understand something about themselves. Together.

You see, they weren’t always family, these three.

In fact, they might not have ever known the other.

But now they’re quilted like finest fabric together for all time.

Doing this life. 

Together.

This is me and their mama.

She’s special.

The great quilter.

She wasn’t always family either.

But boy was she in for a surprise.

In fact, they might not have ever heard her name spoken.

But now it is written on their hearts. Forever.

Because one day she decided she could change the world.

And she ended up changing three.

She can’t afford it.

She doesn’t have time for it.

She doesn’t always feel good at it.

But she does it.

Every. Day.

Stitching.

Dedicated to the beauty of her work.

And look what she’s created!

Our family's like a patchwork quilt,

With kindness gently sewn;

Each piece is an original,

With beauty of its own.

With threads of warmth and happiness,

It's tightly stitched together

To last in love throughout the years,

Our family is forever.

-Author Unknown-

 

Winter Flowers

My mama with the beautiful heart calls them winter flowers. 

Can you guess why? 

A bouquet of beauty and fingerprints of glory.

In order to see birds it is necessary to become part of the silence

- Robert Lynd -

(Home)School

I (heart) homeschooling. 

There.  I said it. 

It's a tricky thing to say as a homeschooler because: 

a)  Some people judge me for homeschooling. 

b)  Some people think I'm judging them for NOT homeschooling. 

c)  My kids are judged on a different scale when people find out they're homeschooled. 

It's a whole lot of judging for any given afternoon.   

Being a second generation homeschooler, I'm well acquainted with the (I'm sure) well-meaning stranger (who 7 times out of 10 works at Wal-Mart), who feels the liberty to decipher what is right and wrong for my child whom he/she has never before laid eyes upon.  "You're homeschooled?"  they say, eyebrows perched toward Heaven.  "Ohhhh...," the chin lifts in a, "Sure you are" tone.  Instantly we're labeled as religious fanatics with a cardinal goal of shielding our children from the big, ugly world, or granola hippies who let our children run around barefoot all day (okay, there might be some element of truth to the barefoot part) with no structure or actual education happening. 

We, in fact, are neither. 

Now can I have my receipt, Wal-Mart lady??

:-)

I think some of these strangers would be surprised to know that the primary reason we chose to homeschool our kids was because we like them! 

We like to be around them and we like having them around.  

(not at all to say people who choose private or public education don't like their kids...the benefits of these choices are many, and every child / family is different and thus has different needs.)

Sure, there are challenging days where my heart (and flesh) just aren't in it and I contemplate the 'ol "free to a good home" ad (Just kidding.  I think.), but I can't tell you how many days I just can't believe I GET to do this...to snuggle with them as they learn to read, to laugh with them as they learn to subtract and borrow, to sing silly songs with them about continents or ball joints or whatever else we get into that day.  I can't believe I get to serve them warm soup from my kitchen on a snowy afternoon.  I can't believe our "sub" is their Gram, MY Gram, and they get to listen to her Grammy voice reading for hours each week and study the hands and heart that I myself studied for so long, all the generations giving and taking from each other at once.  I can't believe I get to see them succeed and feel them progress and be that trampoline springing them back to their feet when they fail.  I almost want to cry when I see their wide eyes when they've learned something that really tickles their fancy because I get to be there with them for that one moment in time that will never happen again. 

It's like a miracle that keeps happening. 

And I love it. 

(There.  I said it again.  Love it or leave it, Wal-Mart lady.)   

:-) 

Walking in a Winter Wonderland

We awoke to our first accumulating snowfall of the year this morning!  We headed out around town and ran into Santa Claus and horsedrawn wagon rides, then home for some chicken noodle soup, sledding / snowblowing and a nice nap by the fireplace...a perfect winter day!  Our neighborhood is beginning to resemble Who-ville with all the Christmas lights up.  :-) 

Luca asked Santa for a Dora house.

Brenin's hoping for some "spy gadgets."  :-)

Another family self portrait (we really need to get ourselves a photographer!)  :-)  Sorry Lukes, half a face will have to do! 

My little Christmas light. 

I think I mentioned this before, but I love this kid.  A lot. 

And this one too, but I think I might have

mentioned that once or twice as well. 

(The feller she's sitting on isn't so bad either).  :-)

Cold weather = extra snuggles from Mama.  Winter has its perks.

 Thanks for the lift, girls! 

Helllllooooooo winter! 



Visions of Sugar Plums Dancing In Our Heads

All bets were off last night as we gathered the kids for gingerbread houses!  Gumdrops a plenty, candy canes a many, and everything coated in candy!  

 

Merry Christmas from Candyland!

 

Halls Decked. Check.

Christmas is in the air!!! Can I just say that I loooooooooooove Christmas-time?? I love everything about it...the lights, the love, the music, (even the SHOPPING!), the giving, the celebrating of Hope born and Hope still alive...I love it ALL! Everything is magical at Christmas-time, outlined in soft light with pops of color where grays and brown usually reign, everyone sharing the same soundtrack for 4 blessed weeks. There's this anticipation that something good is coming, something really good. "It's like Christmas!" we say when something grand and extravagent has happened to us.

Wouldn't it be great if EVERY day was like Christmas?? 

Wouldn't it be positively glorious if we could dwell in anticipation

that something good...something really good... is coming??    

And can you even imagine if something grand

and extravagent had happened to us??

I can. 

When Hope was born, so too was Christmas.