Sunday, September 23, 2012


We are so excited to announce that the US Embassy cleared us to go pick up Moses on Friday. Praise God! After two and a half years our little guy will be with his FOREVER family! 

We will be leaving This Saturday, September 29 and arrive in Ethiopia Sunday night. First thing Monday morning we will be meeting him at the orphanage, and this time we won't have to leave him there. Never again! After our final US Embassy appointment, they will process Moses' visa (which takes 2 days) and Friday we will start our journey back to the US. We will arrive home on Saturday, October 6, and for the first time ever we will all be together as a family of 5!

I just want to say THANK YOU to everyone! Every single one of you have been so supportive throughout this journey. Whether it was contributing to our fundraisers, speaking words of encouragement, being a shoulder to cry on, or lifting us up in prayer, all of this came together and helped carry us through. It is so amazing to me to see, one by one, people doing their part and, by everyone doing this together, God uses that to move mountains!

"14 For the body does not consist of one member but of many15 If the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. 16 And if the ear should say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. 17 If the whole body were an eye, where would be the sense of hearing? If the whole body were an ear, where would be the sense of smell? 18 But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. 19 If all were a single member, where would the body be? 20 As it is, there are many parts, yet one body....24But God has so composed the body, giving greater honor to the part that lacked it, 25 that there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another. 26 If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together."

1 Corinthians 12:14-20 & 24-26

We are so relieved and joyful as we end this incredible journey that God has called us to, and now we look ahead to the beginning of a new journey which is becoming a family of 5. Bringing a child into your home through adoption is a little different than bringing a child home via your belly. The attachment process between parent and child looks so different, and can be extremely more strenuous since this child is coming from a hard place of loss and trauma. With that being said, we will still need all of you! One of my favorite bloggers, Jen Hatmaker, wrote a blog about ways to be the village for adoptive families, and I think she did a beautiful job at explaining what we need. Here is an excerpt from that blog....

How can you help? By not saying or doing these things: 

1. I mean this nicely, but don’t come over for awhile. Most of us are going to hole up in our homes with our little tribe and attempt to create a stable routine without a lot of moving parts. This is not because we hate you; it’s because we are trying to establish the concept of “home” with our newbies, and lots of strangers coming and going makes them super nervous and unsure, especially strangers who are talking crazy language to them and trying to touch their hair. 

2. Please do not touch, hug, kiss, or use physical affection with our kids for a few months. We absolutely know your intentions are good, but attachment is super tricky with abandoned kids, and they have had many caregivers, so when multiple adults (including extended family) continue to touch and hold them in their new environment, they become confused about who to bond with. This actually delays healthy attachment egregiously. It also teaches them that any adult or stranger can touch them without their permission, and believe me, many adoptive families are working HARD to undo the damage already done by this position. Thank you so much for respecting these physical boundaries. 

3. For the next few months, do not assume the transition is easy. For 95% of us, it so is not. And this isn’t because our family is dysfunctional or our kids are lemons, but because this phase is so very hard on everyone. I can’t tell you how difficult it was to constantly hear: “You must be so happy!” and “Is life just so awesome now that they’re here??” and “Your family seems just perfect now!” I wanted that to be true so deeply, but I had no idea how to tell you that our home was actually a Trauma Center. Starting with the right posture with your friends – this is hard right now – will totally help you become a safe friend to confide in / break down in front of / draw strength from. 

4. Do not act shocked if we tell you how hard the early stages are. Do not assume adoption was a mistake. Do not worry we have ruined our lives. Do not talk behind our backs about how terribly we’re doing and how you’re worried that we are suicidal. Do not ask thinly veiled questions implying that we are obviously doing something very, very wrong. Do not say things like, “I was so afraid it was going to be like this” or “Our other friends didn’t seem to have these issues at all” or "He's so little he won't remember." Just let us struggle. Be our friends in the mess of it. We’ll get better.  

5. Please do not disappear. If I thought the waiting stage was hard, it does not even hold the barest candle to what comes after the airport. Not. The. Barest. Candle. Never have I felt so isolated and petrified. Never have I been so overwhelmed and exhausted. We need you after the airport way more than we ever needed you before. I know you’re scared of us, what with our dirty hair and wild eyes and mystery children we’re keeping behind closed doors so they don’t freak out more than they already have, but please find ways to stick around. Call. Email. Check in. Post on our Facebook walls. Send us funny cards. Keep this behavior up for longer than six days. 

Here’s what we would love to hear or experience After the Airport:

1. Cook for your friends. Put together a meal calendar and recruit every person who even remotely cares about them. We didn’t cook dinners for one solid month, and folks, that may have single handedly saved my sanity. There simply are not words to describe how exhausting and overwhelming those first few weeks are, not to mention the lovely jetlag everyone came home with. And if your friends adopted domestically right up the street, this is all still true, minus the jetlag. 

2. If we have them, offer to take our biological kids for an adventure or sleepover. Please believe me: their lives just got WHACKED OUT, and they need a break, but their parents can’t give them one because they are 1.) cleaning up pee and poop all day, 2.) holding screaming children, 3.) spending all their time at doctors’ offices, and 4.) falling asleep in their clothes at 8:15pm. Plus, they are in lockdown mode with the recently adopted, trying to shield them from the trauma that is Walmart. 

3. Thank you for getting excited with us over our little victories. I realize it sounds like a very small deal when we tell you our kindergartener is now staying in the same room as the dog, but if you could’ve seen the epic level of freakoutedness this dog caused her for three weeks, you would understand that this is really something. When you encourage us over our incremental progress, it helps. You remind us that we ARE moving forward and these little moments are worth celebrating. If we come to you spazzing out, please remind us where we were a month ago. Force us to acknowledge their gains. Be a cheerleader for the healing process. 

4. Come over one night after our kids are asleep and sit with us on our porch. Let me tell you: we are all lonely in those early weeks. We are home, home, home, home, home. Good-bye, date nights. Good-bye, GNO’s. Good-bye, spontaneous anything. Good-bye, church. Good-bye, big public outings. Good-bye, community group. Good-bye, nightlife. So please bring some community to our doorstep. Bring friendship back into our lives. Bring adult conversation and laughter. And bring an expensive bottle of wine. 

5. If the shoe fits, tell adopting families how their story is affecting yours. If God has moved in you over the course of our adoption, whether before the airport or after, if you’ve made a change or a decision, if somewhere deep inside a fire was lit, tell us, because it is spiritual water on dry souls. There is nothing more encouraging than finding out God is using our families for greater kingdom work, beautiful things we would never know or see. We gather the holy moments in our hands every day, praying for eyes to see God’s presence, his purposes realized in our story. When you put more holy moments in our hands to meditate on, we are drawn deeper into the Jesus who led us here. 

Here’s one last thing: As you watch us struggle and celebrate and cry and flail, we also want you to know that adoption is beautiful, and a thousand times we’ve looked at each other and said, “What if we would’ve said no?” God invited us into something monumental and lovely, and we would’ve missed endless moments of glory had we walked away. We need you during these difficult months of waiting and transitioning, but we also hope you see that we serve a faithful God who heals and actually sets the lonely in families, just like He said He would. And even through the tears and tantrums (ours), we look at our children and marvel that God counted us worthy to raise them. We are humbled. We’ve been gifted with a very holy task, and when you help us rise to the occasion, you have an inheritance in their story; your name will be counted in their legacy. Because that day you brought us pulled pork tacos was the exact day I needed to skip dinner prep and hold my son on the couch for an hour, talking about Africa and beginning to bind up his emotional wounds. When you kidnapped me for two hours and took me to breakfast, I was at the very, very, absolute end that morning, but I came home renewed, able to greet my children after school with fresh love and patience. When you loved on my big kids and offered them sanctuary for a night, you kept the family rhythm in sync at the end of a hard week. 

Thank you for being the village. You are so important. 

With that being said, we want everyone that played a part, even if by praying or supporting us silently as a reader, to come celebrate with us Moses coming home. Our plane arrives at Austin Airport at 5:44 on Saturday, October 6. We would love for all of you to come to the airport and be there waiting as we bring Moses home and give him an amazing welcome! I can't wait for Moses to see the people who helped get him home. See you at the airport gates!

Love to all, Kristin

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

This Too Shall Pass

Oh how I wish this update would be news of moving forward. 

Our finder's interview occurred yesterday, and it was thought to have gone well. Sometimes the Embassy will decide to clear the families of travel after the interview and sometimes they will request more information, or in some cases, decide they cannot declare the child's orphan status and send the case to Nairobi for further proceedings. In most cases, Nairobi will clear the family, but the only problem is this takes time in getting the case to Nairobi, like several weeks. Which of course would mean more waiting. Unfortunately we received no word from the Embassy after the interview. I decided to email them to inquire and they told me that the case was still ongoing and they will notify me when the status changes. This was tough news to take, since it was not what we were looking for. We don't seem to know what all this means, and I wish there was a way to find out which road the Embassy is going to make us go down next. 

Yet again, it has been another day of tears, sorrow, and sometimes crippling fear of what comes next. We have been desperately seeking peace, relief, and restoration. We are just crushed today with the news which leads to more waiting. And, it is taking all my strength to make it through days like these. But,  I can't help but think in the midst of my suffering about Jesus. This amazing man who truly suffered and took the fall for someone like me, so I would not be brought to death but to life. And, because of his redemption, because He has risen, I know that He can redeem my story at this time, right here and right now. That is what Jesus is all about.  And after all this time I can look back and see Him always standing beside me and carrying me through when needed. It is the truth when I say that HE is still there. He just won't let me go! His story is about redemption, and his purpose is redemption. I am amazed that this great redeemer is the writer of my story, the rock beneath my feet, and the heartbeat of my life.

So what we do in the meantime is take one day at a time, one hour at a time, one moment at a time time, a PRAY! Boy, do we do a lot of praying! Every day is a new day. Another opportunity for redemption, another chance to see and witness God's love for me through my husband, my children, family and friends, and all the little small occurrences in life that whisper of His love. And we hold onto the hope of hearing from the Embassy that we can bring home my son.

Words cannot describe how unbelievably grateful we are for everyone's thoughtful gestures, encouraging words, and most of all for interceding on our behalf in prayer. Please keep it coming, it has been so helpful while riding out these tough waters.