Scrunched into the backseat of our Russian chariot, we began our final tasks. Our driver, Igor, took us to the apartment home of Sasha and Natasha. We climbed into what looked like the elevator from the Shady Rest hotel and entered our home for the next 4 ½ days. We were exhausted and I wasn’t sure I wanted the added stress of being a house guest. However, Sasha and Natasha’s hospitality quieted my fears and I thanked God for his provision. Natasha had a delicious hot breakfast waiting for us. We ate quickly and then got ready for the children’s required doctor appointments.
We arrived at the American clinic in Moscow, where the Russian doctor spoke flawless English. Though he was kind, Masha wouldn’t speak to him. He gave us the appropriate medical clearance and with that, we had one more hurdle to jump-the INS.
Our last stop was the US Embassy to get the children’s visas. Weary parents holding crying children spilled from the waiting room onto floors and into hallways. After several hours, an agent began to circulate. “We typically process about three to four families a day,” she explained. “Today we have over eighty families. I’d suggest trying again tomorrow.”
Tomorrow? I wanted to be on a plane tomorrow!
Finally we heard our name. I held the kids while John spoke with the officials. His furrowed brows told me there was a problem. “We’re missing some paperwork,” John informed me.
“We need to call Ron and it’s one a.m. in California!” I snapped back.
“We’ll have to wake him.”
After a brief phone conversation, John reported, “He’s already sent one fax but he’ll fax another copy in the morning. I’ll have to come back tomorrow.” Back to our apartment we trudged; defeated and deflated.
The next morning, I prayed and paced until at last John returned, visas in hand. “It was looking pretty grim,” he explained. “They couldn’t find the faxes, so I pleaded with every supervisor until someone discovered our paperwork was filed under O! Apparently the W sound doesn’t translate into their alphabet. I’m telling you – God found those papers!”
It was Christmas Eve and we were headed home. After touching down in New York, we breezed through customs and immigration. My glee faded when I saw the wall of holiday travelers at our gate.
“Passenger Wallace, please come to the ticket counter.”
No! Lord, don’t let this flight be overbooked.
John returned with the news, “The flight’s overbooked.”
I knew it.
“They had to move us to business class.”
Forgive me Lord for always assuming the worst . . .
Both kids were asleep before the plane took off. I watched Masha, in her chocolate-stained shirt and wild brown hair, my tiny spitfire. Peaceful at last. What would I tell her? How could I explain it was our suffering that brought us each to this place of joy? I had no answers, but I wouldn’t trade places with anyone.
Assisted by changing time zones, Christmas Eve awaited our arrival to LAX. Joyful and exhausted, we plopped our luggage, our sleeping children and our aching bodies into our own car and drove home . . . . home for Christmas.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Monday, December 17, 2007
Our Russian Adoption Adventure
Ten years ago today, we touched down in St. Petersburg, Russia. Two days later, we became parents of two wonderful children, Hannah and Samuel. Most parents have stories of both the exhilaration and mind-numbing fear they experienced when they assumed responsibility for another human life (in our case, two lives).
Do you remember your first night with a newborn? Is he still breathing? Is she warm enough? Our first night with children took place on the midnight train from St. Petersburg to Moscow:
Igor, our driver, flung both bags and children into the van and whisked us off to the train station. Our tiny compartment felt like a sauna, thanks to an overzealous heater. Inside were two lower bunks with pull down upper-berths. The tiny aisle allowed only enough room for our luggage and Joyce. While straddling the two beds, John lifted Hannah onto the bunk by the window. Uncertain where to put Samuel and trapped by suitcases on her feet, Joyce stood frozen in the middle of our quarters.
As John stacked luggage to clear a place to stand, he noticed storage boxes underneath the bottom bunks. We could prop open the bed, throw blankets inside and presto-we had a crib! We tucked Hannah into the other lower bunk. She dozed off only after her excitement over the train trip succumbed to exhaustion. Samuel was ready for another bottle and a diaper change, which proved to be a challenge in the tight quarters. We finally tucked him back into his luggage box where he probably got the best night sleep of all of us.
We climbed into our top bunks, too hot to sleep. We snuck glimpses of the Russian countryside-farmhouse after farmhouse covered in snow, and then drifted off.
Chimes sounded, the hall lights brightened and a woman barked an offer of coffee or tea through our compartment door. “We’re almost there so we better get moving,” John said.
As soon as the train stopped, we heard a frantic knock on the door. John opened the door and began, “Hi, I’m John and . . .”
“We must hurry, the train won’t wait for you to unload,” said Larisa, our Moscow contact. Not wanting to explore more Russian countryside, we hurled everything into a container of some sort, grabbed the kids, and dashed off the train.
Check back next week for the rest of the story….
Do you remember your first night with a newborn? Is he still breathing? Is she warm enough? Our first night with children took place on the midnight train from St. Petersburg to Moscow:
Igor, our driver, flung both bags and children into the van and whisked us off to the train station. Our tiny compartment felt like a sauna, thanks to an overzealous heater. Inside were two lower bunks with pull down upper-berths. The tiny aisle allowed only enough room for our luggage and Joyce. While straddling the two beds, John lifted Hannah onto the bunk by the window. Uncertain where to put Samuel and trapped by suitcases on her feet, Joyce stood frozen in the middle of our quarters.
As John stacked luggage to clear a place to stand, he noticed storage boxes underneath the bottom bunks. We could prop open the bed, throw blankets inside and presto-we had a crib! We tucked Hannah into the other lower bunk. She dozed off only after her excitement over the train trip succumbed to exhaustion. Samuel was ready for another bottle and a diaper change, which proved to be a challenge in the tight quarters. We finally tucked him back into his luggage box where he probably got the best night sleep of all of us.
We climbed into our top bunks, too hot to sleep. We snuck glimpses of the Russian countryside-farmhouse after farmhouse covered in snow, and then drifted off.
Chimes sounded, the hall lights brightened and a woman barked an offer of coffee or tea through our compartment door. “We’re almost there so we better get moving,” John said.
As soon as the train stopped, we heard a frantic knock on the door. John opened the door and began, “Hi, I’m John and . . .”
“We must hurry, the train won’t wait for you to unload,” said Larisa, our Moscow contact. Not wanting to explore more Russian countryside, we hurled everything into a container of some sort, grabbed the kids, and dashed off the train.
Check back next week for the rest of the story….
Monday, December 10, 2007
Clarity
Do you often feel confused about what God wants? Do you even resist what you think might be his expectations? Are you conflicted, wanting to follow God yet not sure you’ll be happy where he leads? Sometimes this lack of clarity is the result of a distorted or inadequate view of God. You may have been taught or just assumed that God wants certain things. How can you know for certain what God requires?
There is no shortcut to knowing God’s will; it takes time. In one sense, God is like any other person; the more time you spend with him, the more you understand him. Some people spend virtually no time at all getting to know God. They may even ignore what little they know of God’s law. Yet when they face major life decisions, they toss up quick prayers, asking and expecting God to lead and protect them. This strategy will not work consistently. A better strategy is to pursue an ongoing relationship with God, reading and studying the Bible, asking God for wisdom and courage, and doing your best to walk in his ways. When the time comes for a major life decision, you’ll be far more likely to make a wise one. You’ll instinctively know what God expects because you will know God.
God wants you to know him as your Creator. He made you for a purpose and longs for you to discover that purpose. He knows that life will be truly satisfying for you when you live out that purpose. He has given you personality, talents, and abilities. He does not desire that these gifts be wasted. Instead, he wants you to use them for their maximum capacity for good. When you do this, God receives glory.
God wants you to know him as your Savior. Many people use their God-given gifts for selfish or destructive ends. In fact, if we’re honest, we all would admit that we have this tendency. Yet God desires to save us from this tendency and to empower us to use our gifts for good.
How can you “use your gifts for good” this week?
~John
There is no shortcut to knowing God’s will; it takes time. In one sense, God is like any other person; the more time you spend with him, the more you understand him. Some people spend virtually no time at all getting to know God. They may even ignore what little they know of God’s law. Yet when they face major life decisions, they toss up quick prayers, asking and expecting God to lead and protect them. This strategy will not work consistently. A better strategy is to pursue an ongoing relationship with God, reading and studying the Bible, asking God for wisdom and courage, and doing your best to walk in his ways. When the time comes for a major life decision, you’ll be far more likely to make a wise one. You’ll instinctively know what God expects because you will know God.
God wants you to know him as your Creator. He made you for a purpose and longs for you to discover that purpose. He knows that life will be truly satisfying for you when you live out that purpose. He has given you personality, talents, and abilities. He does not desire that these gifts be wasted. Instead, he wants you to use them for their maximum capacity for good. When you do this, God receives glory.
God wants you to know him as your Savior. Many people use their God-given gifts for selfish or destructive ends. In fact, if we’re honest, we all would admit that we have this tendency. Yet God desires to save us from this tendency and to empower us to use our gifts for good.
How can you “use your gifts for good” this week?
~John
Monday, December 3, 2007
Aimless and Ashamed
Other people’s priorities can cloud my judgment, thwarting my ability to make decisions. If I stay at home with my son, but can’t afford piano lessons or little league, I’m denying him opportunities. If I focus on maintaining my home, I lack the time to volunteer at school. If volunteer activities consume my day, I’m folding laundry instead of helping my daughter with homework. If I go back to work, I’m shirking my parental duties. And so the circle of guilt continues. No matter what I choose, shame lurks over me like a dark cloud refusing to rain.
I’m shackled by the weight of everyone’s disappointment in me. To make matters worse, most people have reasonable expectations and are understandably perplexed at my inability to deliver. Yet once amassed, these expectations, no longer reasonable, conspire to bury me.
The shame is unbearable. So I scatter snippets of myself; just enough to lower raised eyebrows and mollify my wounds. In the process, I lose sight of the person God called me to be. I’m like a puppy who bounces from person to person, with no direction or purpose other than to lap up a morsel of food or find the softie who’s sure to rub my tummy.
The Bible tells us we were created with purpose. For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do. (Eph 2:10, NIV) If we know God created us with purpose, why does it wound so deeply when others tell us we’ve failed to meet their expectations? Shouldn’t it be enough to know God’s purpose and act accordingly?
Apparently, most of us don’t have the bulldog focus and determination of Winston Churchill. Take a stroll through your local Christian bookstore and you’ll see rows of books on managing time, determining priorities and setting boundaries. These resources help individuals learn to say no, a skill critical to stress reduction.
But then, there are those who don’t struggle at all with turning you down flat. And when you’ve had to compensate for people who refuse to help, you empathize with those who are drowning - you want to spare them the frustration you’ve felt. Your sympathetic side struggles to say no. Being counted among the “do nothings” who suck the life from every organization is more than you can stomach.
How do you care about others without becoming a rescuer? How do you discover a sense of purpose when so many needs compete for your energy? Those who are both compassionate and focused have learned to coexist with a nagging reality. They know they must identify the yes’s in their lives before they can allow themselves to say no.
I’m shackled by the weight of everyone’s disappointment in me. To make matters worse, most people have reasonable expectations and are understandably perplexed at my inability to deliver. Yet once amassed, these expectations, no longer reasonable, conspire to bury me.
The shame is unbearable. So I scatter snippets of myself; just enough to lower raised eyebrows and mollify my wounds. In the process, I lose sight of the person God called me to be. I’m like a puppy who bounces from person to person, with no direction or purpose other than to lap up a morsel of food or find the softie who’s sure to rub my tummy.
The Bible tells us we were created with purpose. For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do. (Eph 2:10, NIV) If we know God created us with purpose, why does it wound so deeply when others tell us we’ve failed to meet their expectations? Shouldn’t it be enough to know God’s purpose and act accordingly?
Apparently, most of us don’t have the bulldog focus and determination of Winston Churchill. Take a stroll through your local Christian bookstore and you’ll see rows of books on managing time, determining priorities and setting boundaries. These resources help individuals learn to say no, a skill critical to stress reduction.
But then, there are those who don’t struggle at all with turning you down flat. And when you’ve had to compensate for people who refuse to help, you empathize with those who are drowning - you want to spare them the frustration you’ve felt. Your sympathetic side struggles to say no. Being counted among the “do nothings” who suck the life from every organization is more than you can stomach.
How do you care about others without becoming a rescuer? How do you discover a sense of purpose when so many needs compete for your energy? Those who are both compassionate and focused have learned to coexist with a nagging reality. They know they must identify the yes’s in their lives before they can allow themselves to say no.
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