Opening your email can be quite the experience. For some people there are endless emails from work with deadlines and files and a never ending list of things to get back to. For others it might be communication from friends. For me, it is mostly emails from online retailers enticing me with coupons and % off sales. However, everyday I scan through the list looking for only one word "Uganda".
Today that word was preceded with "Urgent." You know that feeling when your stomach sinks and you're not sure if you want to know the rest of that sentence? Yeah.
I clicked to open the email and immediately felt my knees bending bringing me before the Lord as I read what was next. There has been a case of bacterial meningitis at the orphanage. A sweet baby girl named Esther is sick and receiving treatment. For many of us this is all to familiar. A little over a year ago a little girl named Vivian had the same illness, however back then they didn't have the additional funds available to get her the immediate medical care she needed and Vivian passed. Since then our agency has started a fund called Vivian's Hope for emergency medical care. We are now all praying that the access to these funds will make the difference for Esther and that she will recover. Once again we wait.
Knowing that Simon has just recently recovered from Malaria brought me extra anxiety. Would his immune system still be weak and susceptible to this disease? Has he already been exposed? Tears ran down my face as I prayed for my son. Once again I can't be there to check on him and feel his cheeks for fever. I have to trust God that the hands and feet that he has working in Uganda will be diligent in looking after him. This is never easy.
After I prayed I remembered that there is an American family in Uganda this week for their court date. I jumped on facebook to look up their information. I found Amanda Rausch's profile and saw that their court date is tomorrow. I took the risk and left her a message wondering if she even had access to such things in Uganda. Much to my surprise she responded relatively quickly.
I filled her in on our situation (there is a little weight lifted every time I get to tell someone Simon might still be ours!) and asked her if she could take pictures and video of Simon for us. It's a selfish thing to ask during such a pivotal time for her family but I knew she would understand, having waiting so long for her own opportunity to be with her child.
Amanda agreed to ask for Simon tomorrow when they go back to Tenderheart. Then she said the sentence that brought me so much hope "I heard them call his name today when they were outside eating fruit but I didn't see which one he was."
HE WAS OUTSIDE EATING FRUIT TODAY! What a wonderful trinket of knowledge. What a gift to get to know what he was doing today! What incredible comfort it brings because I can read between the lines...if he was outside eating fruit that means he was not inside with a fever. He isn't sick!!!
It takes 3-7 days for symptoms to show up but God has provided me with another mother who will look in on him as she visits her own child. Amanda will be able to message me to tell me if he is okay or if they have taken him to the hospital. She may not know it but Amanda Rausch is my new favorite person! LOL.
God is so good.
Wednesday, February 26, 2014
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
Serious Malria
Yesterday we received a health update on Simon. "He is healthy, growing well, eating well, etc. He had a case of serious Malaria and has been treated."
Ummmm, What?!?
Surprisingly, I didn't freak out. I did reread the sentence a few times to make sure that I had the correct information, but my immediate response was to sit back and feel at peace. My thoughts were, "this is just one more thing that I have zero control over. My input or anxiety will have no effect here. Essentially, even this life threatening illness, changes nothing."
My previous education about Malaria came from the 30 Hour Famine that I do with my youth group each year. This essentially involved pages of statistics about death rates and the importance of prevention. PREVENTION. Too late for that.
As any American would do I opened up my browser and asked Google about Malaria treatments. The information from the CDC was only somewhat satisfying, again mostly about prevention. In the end the information was basically this...it is a messy illness that causes high fevers and all kinds of awfulness. Most people die, but if you're lucky enough to receive treatment quickly, you live.
Simon lived. I began to think about what a miracle that was...
1) Simon has been institutionalized for his entire life. This means that unlike the vast majority of his peers he has had balanced meals and consistent care making him healthier than most children his age. Perhaps, this set him up to be able to endure the disease.
2) If Simon had gone to live with his Uncle and contracted Malaria he might not have had access to treatment. The fact that he was left behind meant that he was still with caretakers that had access to medical care.
3) The staff is incredibly overwhelmed with 22 children in a facility staffed and built for 12. Many of the newly abandoned kids are sick and in the hospital. This means that either Ken or Cathy has to remain at the hospital at all times. They take shifts. Simon was one of the healthiest kids there. He could have easily been overlooked in his crib with so many other children sick and in need of care. BUT someone noticed. I might never know who, how or why someone noticed, but someone did and he was taken to receive treatment before the illness took his life.
-----------------
In many ways this disease was a gift to me. (Hang in there, I have a point.) Often, when God has called us to something it isn't something that happens all at once. Often, we have to endure setbacks, disappointments, doubt, judgment, and a lot of waiting. However, these things make us stronger. They only remind us how much we long for what God has set on our hearts. Each roadblock clarifies the path.
Yesterday, my heart broke for my son. I mourned the lost opportunity to comfort him in his time of need. To wipe the sweat from his sweet little forehead. To clean the vomit. To snuggle the fever away. I wanted to be the one to administer the medicine that would make it all go away. To pray over him while I waited to see if it would take affect or if Simon would loose his life. To see his smile return as the sickness faded and to celebrate his getting well. That should have been me. I am his MOM!
However, not being there might be what I needed even more. You see, this is the easiest part of the journey. It only gets harder from here. The goal is not simply to bring him home, but to raise him to be the man God has made him to be. This will be exhausting. There will be countless doctors appointments and therapy sessions. He will call me names and push me away when he needs me most. There will be nights when I wonder if it is worth it and when I will want to give up or somehow undo what we have done. It will be on those nights when I will remember this feeling. This inescapable longing to be the one that raises him and makes every bad day better no matter what the cost. I will remind myself just how much we wanted this and all that it took to get us where we are. Then I will clean up the tears/vomit/broken things/etc., hug my son and thank God for another day.
Ummmm, What?!?
Surprisingly, I didn't freak out. I did reread the sentence a few times to make sure that I had the correct information, but my immediate response was to sit back and feel at peace. My thoughts were, "this is just one more thing that I have zero control over. My input or anxiety will have no effect here. Essentially, even this life threatening illness, changes nothing."
My previous education about Malaria came from the 30 Hour Famine that I do with my youth group each year. This essentially involved pages of statistics about death rates and the importance of prevention. PREVENTION. Too late for that.
As any American would do I opened up my browser and asked Google about Malaria treatments. The information from the CDC was only somewhat satisfying, again mostly about prevention. In the end the information was basically this...it is a messy illness that causes high fevers and all kinds of awfulness. Most people die, but if you're lucky enough to receive treatment quickly, you live.
Simon lived. I began to think about what a miracle that was...
1) Simon has been institutionalized for his entire life. This means that unlike the vast majority of his peers he has had balanced meals and consistent care making him healthier than most children his age. Perhaps, this set him up to be able to endure the disease.
2) If Simon had gone to live with his Uncle and contracted Malaria he might not have had access to treatment. The fact that he was left behind meant that he was still with caretakers that had access to medical care.
3) The staff is incredibly overwhelmed with 22 children in a facility staffed and built for 12. Many of the newly abandoned kids are sick and in the hospital. This means that either Ken or Cathy has to remain at the hospital at all times. They take shifts. Simon was one of the healthiest kids there. He could have easily been overlooked in his crib with so many other children sick and in need of care. BUT someone noticed. I might never know who, how or why someone noticed, but someone did and he was taken to receive treatment before the illness took his life.
-----------------
In many ways this disease was a gift to me. (Hang in there, I have a point.) Often, when God has called us to something it isn't something that happens all at once. Often, we have to endure setbacks, disappointments, doubt, judgment, and a lot of waiting. However, these things make us stronger. They only remind us how much we long for what God has set on our hearts. Each roadblock clarifies the path.
Yesterday, my heart broke for my son. I mourned the lost opportunity to comfort him in his time of need. To wipe the sweat from his sweet little forehead. To clean the vomit. To snuggle the fever away. I wanted to be the one to administer the medicine that would make it all go away. To pray over him while I waited to see if it would take affect or if Simon would loose his life. To see his smile return as the sickness faded and to celebrate his getting well. That should have been me. I am his MOM!
However, not being there might be what I needed even more. You see, this is the easiest part of the journey. It only gets harder from here. The goal is not simply to bring him home, but to raise him to be the man God has made him to be. This will be exhausting. There will be countless doctors appointments and therapy sessions. He will call me names and push me away when he needs me most. There will be nights when I wonder if it is worth it and when I will want to give up or somehow undo what we have done. It will be on those nights when I will remember this feeling. This inescapable longing to be the one that raises him and makes every bad day better no matter what the cost. I will remind myself just how much we wanted this and all that it took to get us where we are. Then I will clean up the tears/vomit/broken things/etc., hug my son and thank God for another day.
Saturday, February 15, 2014
What are you doing in May?
With the winter we have had it has left many of us longing for spring. Thoughts about planting flowers and playing outdoors in the grass are keeping many of my friends hopeful under foot after foot of snow and ice. This has led to many people planning for warmer weather.
Who wants to go to Cedar Point in May?
Who wants to do a show in the spring?
Who wants to go camping this summer?
These are the moments when keeping this secret is hardest. I don't want to plan for warmer weather because I want to be busy. Busy with flying to Uganda, busy with bringing Simon home, busy with post traumatic stress disorder and doctors visits. Who looks forward to PTSD? This mom. I can't wait to love him through it and prove over and over that God's love is never failing, never ceasing, always and forever.
We still make plans though, because if this doesn't go our way we don't want to be stuck home broken heartted. We owe it to everyone that loves us to pick up and carry on :)
But please forgive me if we've made plans together because deep down I want more than anything to have to cancel on you. ;)
Who wants to go to Cedar Point in May?
Who wants to do a show in the spring?
Who wants to go camping this summer?
These are the moments when keeping this secret is hardest. I don't want to plan for warmer weather because I want to be busy. Busy with flying to Uganda, busy with bringing Simon home, busy with post traumatic stress disorder and doctors visits. Who looks forward to PTSD? This mom. I can't wait to love him through it and prove over and over that God's love is never failing, never ceasing, always and forever.
We still make plans though, because if this doesn't go our way we don't want to be stuck home broken heartted. We owe it to everyone that loves us to pick up and carry on :)
But please forgive me if we've made plans together because deep down I want more than anything to have to cancel on you. ;)
The 9th Hour
As we stride into the last two weeks of our six week waiting period the temptation is to worry about the eleventh hour. You hear a lot of stories about adoption when people discover that you're adopting. It's in people's natural design to long to connect and so you hear stories about someone's aunt or neighbor that adopted or more personal stories about how someone's own family came to be.
I have heard countless stories about people who were within 24 hours of finalizing an adoption only to have someone change their mind in the eleventh hour. It is not wise for us to assume that because the final round of letters was sent out two weeks ago, that we are in the clear.
What I do know is that God exists outside of time. He already knows if and when we bring Simon home. He has already seen all the days of our lives, Simon included. It IS wise for us to trust Him. So when the temptation to worry creeps in I close my eyes and remember who created the stars so distant, powerful and majestic...the snowflakes so detailed, fragile and fleeting...the oceans so deep and full of life, color and beauty...tornados so powerful and specific...and my children so flawlessly perfect. That is who is in control.
I have heard countless stories about people who were within 24 hours of finalizing an adoption only to have someone change their mind in the eleventh hour. It is not wise for us to assume that because the final round of letters was sent out two weeks ago, that we are in the clear.
What I do know is that God exists outside of time. He already knows if and when we bring Simon home. He has already seen all the days of our lives, Simon included. It IS wise for us to trust Him. So when the temptation to worry creeps in I close my eyes and remember who created the stars so distant, powerful and majestic...the snowflakes so detailed, fragile and fleeting...the oceans so deep and full of life, color and beauty...tornados so powerful and specific...and my children so flawlessly perfect. That is who is in control.
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