Love in Action

I received so many beautiful comments on my 2nd to last post - thank you. Most of them were sent via Facebook because many of you are still having trouble posting comments to this blog. Sorry about that! I can't seem to get to the bottom of it. But I'm so thankful for all the kind words, especially Charmaine, who wrote such a beautiful reminder to me, that even simply loving Anya from afar and helping to support her financially is bound to be convincing her that she is truly loved. Sometimes I forget that, and focus too much on what I have failed to accomplish. Thank you, Charmaine, for the needed reminder of what I have accomplished.

So, Charmaine got me thinking about the smaller, significant things we can do that are 'Love in Action'. Too often we pass over them when sometimes that one small gesture could mean the world to someone.

Do you have a friend who seems to call you far too often..and always at the wrong time? Do you avoid answering the phone when you see their name? Do you put off getting back to them? I used to do that. ALOT. It felt too overwhelming to answer. And yet, now that I look back on this choice, I realize it was not made out of love. In fact, the avoidance probably caused me more stress than answering the phone would have. We can be so selfish without even really registering it. Christ said to give MORE than is asked of us. If someone wants some of our time, who are we to deny them? Would Christ deny them?

So today I tried to be very conscious of every single choice I made, and what motivated it. It was shocking to me how often I take the easier (less loving) route, and not even consciously...it's just a habit. A few cases in point:

Case #1: I should be walking the dogs three times a day. When they come sit by me with those long faces just begging for time in the woods, I often ignore them in order to get done what is on MY agenda. Not very loving of me. I committed to having these two furry companions and I should, therefore, to the right and loving thing for them at all times...but I don't. They deserve better.

Case #2: This next one may seem like no big deal to you, but it is to me. I'm fairly addicted to very strong coffee..meaning coffee with two shots of espresso. Used to be every day. I weaned myself down to only 3 a week, but it's still a habit that costs me nearly $3 every time I give in. I know what that three dollars could do in Russia. I know that their needs are far more pressing than mine. So why don't I just do the right thing? You might think this is splitting hairs, but it's not. Love is about even the smallest choices we make. When I choose that espresso-laced coffee, I deny, on some level, the needs of the kids I claim to care about so much. I want to purge myself of such selfishness. Please God, help me to have a heart more like yours.

Case #3: I have a blind spot when it comes to my daughter. If someone, anyone, is hurting her in any way, I lose my ability to be loving. I feel an instant, all-consuming rage. Truth be told, when this occurs, all I really want to do is rip that person to shreds. I try to step back, but I can't seem to. For example, one of her teachers has been unkind lately. She shamed my daughter in front of the class for something she has no control over. Instead of waiting to hear her side of the story, I immediately wrote her a very unloving email that really, if I'm honest, was quite threatening. I know it's my job to protect my daughter, but I wish I could better practice what I preach in these instances - 'To understand all is to forgive all' and 'love your neighbor as yourself.' I fail so miserably at that when it involves someone hurting my daughter, however unintentional. I love the idea of turning the other cheek, but in practice I seem all too quick to slap the heck out of the other person. Not kind. Not loving.

So, as much as I lament that the world is not a very loving place, I know I am a big part of the problem myself. If I can't be loving in the small things, how can I expect others to be loving in the big things? It just doesn't make sense. But I do know this: If I keep on asking God for help, and keep vigilant and aware of my own very prevalent short-comings, maybe, just maybe, I'll be making a dent over time. One can only hope.

Love in action. Every choice is aligning ourselves with Love... or its opposite. I want so very much for my choices to be holding hands with Love. Gotta keep reaching out and searching for that Hand.

Don't Forget These Kids This Winter!

This is Leeza showing off her new doll to a caretaker, in November of last year.

Want to make a needy child's winter warmer? Consider putting a box together for orphanage! There are over 100 children there today, all in need of the basics. ANYTHING you send will be used and appreciated...I can vouch for that! Note: there is a new Director at the orphanage ( I'll save the details for another post.) So you need to note the NEW address below, if you've previously sent a box. The New Director offers huge thanks for all you have done to help these children. The New Director has been working there in another capacity for many years. I have known her since 2005. She is a wonderful, caring person (Thank God!)

Here is what you do:

HOW TO SEND A BOX TO THE ORPHANAGE

Go to your local post office. You will need to fill out a customs form. You will need to say the contents are worth under $25 even if that's not the case. (Otherwise the orphanage will have to pay on the other end.) You'll have to wrap it REALLY well to prevent theft along the way.(Think duct-tape.) You will need to address it VERY clearly. Write what appears below in BIG BOLD LETTERS.

HOW TO ADDRESS THE BOX:

Director: EKATERINA VLADIMIROVNA REZENOVA
DETSKY DOM #5
SPARTAKOVSKAYA ULITSE 14A
PROKOPYEVSK
653008 KEMEROVO OBLAST
RUSSIA

Remember, for a box to reach them by Russian Christmas, you need to send it by about November 20th! Current needs are still: more hats, gloves, scarves, socks and, most of all, SHOES!

The Day of Epic Ups and Downs

I'll start with the good news.We all need to hear as much good news as we can these days. So: new home study for D completed! First thing this morning I was able to send the home study to my adoption attorney for her approval. I am incredibly grateful to the Social Worker and Home Study Agency I am working with. They truly kept their word on completing it by the end of October, and I'm grateful for their honesty and openness through this process. So, my home study for D is now in the hands of my attorney! Once she decides it will 'make the cut' in Russia, I will get a copy and submit it with my new 1600A!

Then, as I was celebrating to myself over the home study, my friend Lisa contacted me and asked if I would be godmother to her to BEYOND-ADORABLE little sweeties from EE, who come home soon! I won't post any identifying info, as they are not home yet, but I will say that they are two Angels with Down Syndrome from Reece's Rainbow, and they are just about the most beautiful girls I have ever seen...not kidding! There is a sweetness about them that makes my heart leap and I've been praying for them since I first learned of them. Lisa was originally adopting from Kemerovo, like me, but due to the adoption 'climate' there, it could not be. Please continue to pray for her little Yana who remains institutionalized there.

The sad part of the day involved Anya. We haven't been able to reach her on Skype for a few days and I was getting that mother's intuition that she was not well. (Strangely, every time I feel that intuition, it is ALWAYS spot on with Anya.) so I logged onto Russian Facebook (vkontakte) to see if I could find her online that way. After about an hour she signed on and we were able to chat via instant message for over an hour. And I was right, she was not doing well.

This coming week marks Anya reaching her third month in hospital. Her regular trauma surgeon is on vacation now, and she is having problems with the new doctor. She says he REALLY, really hurts her when he turns the screws in her leg, and doesn't seem to care at all that she is in pain. She gets daily shots in her butt (for the pain), but she said it is getting really hard to take them now, because every spot is bruised and hurts. But what seemed to be bothering her most is that this new doctor says she will be released soon, and Anya does not know how she will manage. She will be able to say at her cousin's house, but I have been there. It is not sanitary and she will still have open wounds. On top of that, she cannot walk, and the house is absolutely not wheelchair accessible. She will have to be carried in and out of the house. Last of all, the house is one very small room for three people. She will have to share a VERY tiny space with NO bathroom.

 She kept trying to comfort me, telling me not to worry, but once she was more tired and her defenses were down, she asked, 'Mama, what am I going to do? I can't walk, I can't do anything.'

I've contacted the TV journalist who did the national story on us last fall, and she is going to do her best to talk to the hospital and find out if they will please reconsider releasing a letter about Anya so I can attempt to apply for the medical visa. Playing the broken record again: Will you pray (hard!) that this journalist will make some headway with them, and that I finally can apply to bring Anya home for medical treatment? All I need is a stupid letter from the surgeon!

Well, that is my up and down day. I still have 145 students to cast in three different productions of 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' tonight for this final school job, and print out 145 scripts before 8am Monday. And did I mention my mom is visiting from Florida, and of course that Halloween is Monday? Full plate!

If you are in a similar state of overwhelm or 'full plate syndrome', just do what I do: Remember Luke 1:37:

'For nothing is impossible with God.'

Hanging In There

Me, on this chilly October morning, in my messy office. (Someone dared me to post a current photo..so here it is!)

I feel bad I've had nothing very interesting to share lately. My life was far more interesting this time last year, when we were living in Russia. Now I only get glimpses of her (Russia) when I Skype with Anya every week.

Since a few of you have emailed me asking for an update, I'll indulge you. Wish it were more exciting, but I remain hopeful:

Anya is still in hospital and dealing with the weekly turning of the screws in her leg. She says its very painful, but she handles it much better than I would! We talk on Skype about every other day. I try daily, but don't always get through. Anya is a trooper. I stand more in awe of her resilience and courage every single day. I adore her and miss her and cannot wait till life affords me the chance to go back and see her again. I miss her so much!

Nastia is doing really well in school. She is in all special ed classes, except for art and theatre, but she is really thriving. Art is her favorite class. She has been undergoing lots of testing this fall and finally has a tentative diagnosis of Non-verbal Learning Disorder (NVLD). I'm currently reading all I can about it and looking forward helping Nastia learn about it as well. She is so relieved to have proof she is not 'stupid' as she has called herself for so long. Having the diagnosis and understanding what it means has really boosted her self-esteem.

I continue on my journey to adopt D. I fight guilt and anxiety about it every day. He should be here now, and every day away from him feels like a terrible punishment. I'm lucky in that I can call him and send letters via email a few times a month, but I can't help feeling that every day he is not here means more pain for him. I've just about completed my NEW home study and can't WAIT to reapply for my 1600A and get things moving. If you are a praying person reading this, it would mean the world to me if you would pray for D's peace of mind. He is very sad and feeling hopeless, and thinks he will never see me again. I can't convince him otherwise. I want him to feel peace.

Finally, I'm struggling still with my work. I'm self-employed and many of my school jobs have dried up in this hurting economy. If things don't get better in the next six months, I may consider moving to Florida, closer to my family. There are far more teaching jobs there. I may need to look at starting a new career in the public school system if things continue on this down-hill slide.

Well, that's about it from here. Plugging away on paperwork, and praying for my kids every day. I'll post again when I have anything of interest to share!

I Don't Know Where To Begin...

Two weeks in Russia and I'm unable to form a coherent sentence about the experience. Two weeks in Russia and I feel more inept at making a difference than I did before I left. Two weeks in Russia and I am back to feeling like I don't even know where to begin in helping these children.

When I was there for three months in the fall and winter, I think I acclimated enough to the environment that I honestly didn't feel very sad when I visited the orphanage. In fact, I felt elated! I was so happy to be there and I didn't think twice about what was to come...I just enjoyed the moment. Well, six months away has had its effect. I was painfully aware what little difference the 450 lbs of goods we brought were going to make. Yes, they loved what we brought...LOVED. And yes, these things will make their lives more bearable in a way, but what they need I cannot give them without tremendous help from God and many people.

They need families.

It felt a little more 'Lord of the Flies' this visit, because school was out and caretakers seemed to be scarce. The kids were spending much more time outside (good) but with little or no supervision (bad.) The 15 children in the little group have a very loving caretaker who gives them much love and attention, but the older kids....they are all alone.

Kids wandering in and out, not knowing what to do with themselves. Older teens boys smoking at the edge of the main entrance and swearing under their breath when I walked by. Older boys wrapping their arms around teen girls and trying to lure them away from the younger ones. Younger boys and girls fighting over some insignificant toy we brought, a yo-yo. It just felt very sad.

Of course there were moments of pure jubilation...watching Bridget get her hair done by a bevy of little ones in the grass outside, amidst giggles and great concentration. There was Vanya and his little sister Polina digging what appeared to be the proverbial hole to China. Two sticks, one in each hand, and a slow, persistent pecking at the dirt. They were riveted, and so consumed with the task at hand , they barely notice all the activity going on around them. There was Kirill, ultra-concerned about my hydration for some reason...constantly asking me if I wanted more from the water bottle I had given him. There was Galya and Genya clinging to Kim, and Valya clinging to me. There was the spontaneous card game at the little outdoor table. There was the constant request for photos...'Kitty! Photo! Photo pazhousta!' And just the leisurely lying in the grass with a dozen -odd children, looking up at the sky, laughing, talking.

I want to live there. I want to live there so badly I felt nauseous thinking about them today. The distance made me feel sick. I found out I can purchase a fairly sturdy house in the village for under $2,000. Do you know how badly I want to fly back and just buy the first thing available, only so I can feel that part of my heart is really, truly, there for good?

These kids are dying. I don't mean to be morbid. But the truth needs to be told. It might look all sweet and bucolic in the photos, but what happens in real life has nothing sweet about it. Just last month, one of the older boys hanged himself in the orphanage. I didn't find out till I had left. My D actually found him. When Nastia told me that Nadezhda had shared this with her, I was shocked and asked angrily, 'WHY didn't you tell me right away?" Her response, 'Oh, mom, it happens all the time there...it's nothing new...'

And in fact, it is so common, no child there even mentioned it. D never brought it up at all, though the Director said it really upset him. Just as bad, we learned how several girls from Nastia's former group are now prostitutes. I knew the statistics all these years, but to know who these girls are is another story. Again, I feel like vomiting. Katya, one of the girls from Nastia's group, came to visit and filled us in on all the horrid things the caretakers don't tell us. Like the girl from Nastia's group who sold her baby this winter for 500 rubles to a man who was, shall we say, not looking to adopt. I had actually read the story online in the local news, but didn't recognize the girl's name. She is in prison now.

When Katya talked about these things, she laughed. That is what my Nastia did when she first came home and shared traumatic stories with me. She laughed. Its a coping mechanism, but its still chilling to hear a young person discuss a rape or an assault and laugh. I'll never get used to that.

What do we do? What do we do for these children? How do we get them out when the entire structure of their government fights against getting them out? How to you change a system and a mindset that has been entrenched for over sixty years? I don't know the answer, but I'm not going to stop trying to find out. I'm praying, I'm researching, and I asked a HELL of alot of questions while I was there. I got some great answers, and some came from people who really DO want to see change happen there. They just don't know how to get it started.

The hardest part for me is always coming home...especially to the area I live in, which is very privileged. I feel sad and guilty and dirty when I see the excess here at home. I don't know how to wrap my head around it. I want to head right back to Siberia. I'm not saying I'm anti-capitalist (in case my brother ever reads this) but I am saying that a great many Americans have their head in the sand. Poverty is not born of laziness. These people are our brothers and sisters, and they have so little and we have soooo much. Such a small sacrifice it would take to make their lives more livable. I've seen it first hand. So very little on our part to make their stomachs full, their bodies clothed and a solid roof over their head.

The director berated me for bringing some of the girls brand new clothes. Her rational was that they didn't need nice things, and I was wasting money. My rational in buying some new things is that these children are sons and daughters of God, like me. They deserve beautiful things even more than I. They deserve to feel as special as any American child. If one new dress brings them joy, I'm bringing it.

G in her new dress, picked out JUST for her:)

Anyway, I'm rambling. I will likely ramble for many days while I try to make sense of my thoughts. Feel free to comment. Your comments keep me coming back here even when I'd prefer to stay silent. Keep these kids in your prayers. If I know ONE thing, it's that prayer works. Keep them coming. They need them more than you could possibly know.

Nastia in High School: So Far So....GREAT!

I don't often write about Nastia anymore. Once she got to be 16 I felt it was an invasion of her privacy to be discussing RAD, PTSD and other issues that she deals with, without asking her permission first. It doesn't mean we don't deal with those issues anymore, it just means that we keep it between us and her therapist.

But praiseworthy behavior and growth seem to be something I should be sharing. It's important to me that other parents of children with severe behaviors get to witness that these issues can often be healed, even when it seems next to impossible at the outset.

Nastia has home schooled for three years. She left school after 2 years of tremendous struggle and anxiety. She wasn't learning - there was far too much trauma for any true learning to go on. For those who doubt that - think of the most stressful, traumatic situation you have ever endured. In that mindset, would you be able to study? To read or write? To truly take anything else in but the moment at hand? Doubtful.

And so, I withdrew her from school, and we spent three years doing intensive bonding, attachment practices, therapy, and learning how to breathe, relax and be present. We took trips, we went camping, we walked beaches, we watched inspiring movies, we learned coping skills, we braved new experiences slowly and deliberately. In short, I gave my daughter time to heal. My intuition told me that she would know when she was ready to go back, if ever. In June of this year, after three intensive years of self-focused healing and learning to feel safe, she announced she wanted to go back to school. Her therapist and I agreed she was ready. And so, a few weeks ago Nastia started high school for the first time. We decided to put her in 9th grade, and though she hated the idea at first (she was afraid of being ridiculed for her age) she finally settled in. Biologically, she is 18, after all, but as any of you parents of older adopted children know, those years in the orphanage wreak havoc on our children's development - emotionally, socially, behaviorally and even physically. They are years and years behind their peers. So why do so many parents force them to try and fit in with their actual age group? I have no idea.

I went into the school IEP meeting with my defenses up. I was ready to fight for what she needed, but I didn't have to. The new head of the Special Ed Dept truly listened to everything I and her therapist had to say, and implemented it immediately into her schedule. He respected me as a parent in a way I rarely see with teachers and school staff. I was impressed. Nastia came in for the 2nd meeting and she too, felt very supported and well-treated very quickly. She is thriving in school! She gets up at 6am with no complaint (what??), she gets ready without help or coaxing (is this MY daughter??) she WALKS to school (umm, are you SURE this isn't a figment of my imagination??) and she does her homework willingly and with great gusto. I have to tell you, I am floored. I did not expect this.

This is the girl that used to throw chairs at her teacher. This is the girl who ran away from school so many times that they stopped calling the police and just called me instead, because I'd know where to find her. This is the girl who fought me so hard on school mornings that I would sit in my car and cry for an hour after I dropped her off each day. Yes, this girl.

And so I'm sharing this because it's important to share with others who are on the same path as we are, but not as far along the road. Have patience. Trust. Listen and really hear what your child is saying and what they are truly asking for, and offer it. I had every single person in my life dumping on me because I took her out of school. But I finally listened to myself and my daughter and did it, and it has rewarded me a million-fold. I fell to pressure when she first came home and enrolled her in school and it was pretty much a disaster from day one. I so wanted others to respect me as a parent, that I let their ideals and beliefs about what was 'right' come before my own. Bad idea.

And so now, when the time is finally right, my daughter is embracing school with her whole being. And I see how hard it is for her, yet she still perseveres, because she is ready now. Fear and Terror no longer block the way to learning. She walks with confidence. She even brought a new friend home the other day after school. Amazing.

Nastia, you are STILL my hero. You never cease to amaze me, and delight me. You teach me every day that the impossible is possible. I want to be like you - braver than brave and always looking the world straight in the eye. I love you, my sweet girl!

When It Rains, It Pours

Literally!

I woke at 5:45am to the sound of our flood alarm going off in the basement. The water was already up to my knees. I went to the side door of my basement that faces the driveway, and the water was pouring in the cracks of the door like a waterfall. I sloshed over and looked out the window...it was up to my chest outside the door. Nothing I could do. The water was getting so high inside that even all my pallets holding bins of stored items started to float up and away. My furnace flooded, my washer and driver tipped sideways, my beautiful collection of antique children's books was under water. (Nastia had moved the basket downstairs when Natasha moved in for awhile. She never told me.) I waded around looking at all my boxes and bins either submerged under water or floating by me, and I just said over and over again to myself ' It's just stuff, it's just stuff. Let it go. Don't cry. It's just stuff.'

So far so good - no tears. Not much I can do until the water drains out. All the major storm drains were clogged with leaves, so Nastia, my neighbors and I were out at 6am with brooms and sticks and anything else we could find to moves the leaves. My arms were too short..the water was that deep!

Anyway, I'm always trying my best to look at the bright side of things, because there always is a bright side. I've come to the conclusion that this is the motivation I needed to do even deeper purging of material things. Why do I have a basement full of things? It's too much. So, once I get everything dried off and washed (if its not ruined!) I'm going to start getting that stuff on craiglist and ebay. Gorgeous costumes, bikes, a brand new stroller, bins and bins of yardsale items. I'm just going to look at this as a strong reminder of my commitment to purge. If you can think of other positives to a flooded basement, please pass them on in the comment section!

PS: I filmed my basement, but it was too dark, so all you see on the video is a black square and hear me sloshing and mumbling 'It's just stuff, it's just stuff...'