So, we are jumping into orphan care next month. I am pretty excited to have some good friends jumping in with us. We are going to host sisters from Latvia for four weeks over Christmas. We are pretty stoked to be bringing more kids into our house, if even for a short time.

   The decision to host was easy, of course we will, how can we not host children when the opportunity presents itself. The process was deceptively simple - go on a web site that has photos of the children along with a short biography...and pick one. I will admit I was kind of a jerk. I sent Jeannie in alone to pour over the pictures of the hundred or so children available to be hosted. I am afraid. I am not afraid of the children, or the possibility of adopting again, or even loving children I have never met. The thing that scares me is the inevitable heart break.

   Adoption always begins with a broken relationship. The broken relationship between a mother, father and a baby. It breaks my heart to think on it. I try to imagine what it would be like to be any of the three people in a family that has been torn apart by any number of circumstances and decisions. It hurts just thinking on it, I can't imagine living it.  
   This is where a better writer would add in some line that makes it all OK. Sorry I am not a better writer. Maybe you have something that helps.

I sent this to my editor/proof reader, who is also my wife, and this is what she added, 

(which is one of the many reasons I love her so much)

"Only God can understand each and every detail completely. He is the only one who knows plan A: for that child to have that beginning, or that family to have that broken history, for that new family and child to be brought together. Yet there is beauty in the way it all works together and God is glorified, even in the heartbreak."

photo by LoveFusion Photography

If you only want to...

Our adoption story began in 2006 when my wife, Jeannie, and I attended an informational meeting given by America World Adoption Agency. When we had a break for coffee, Jeannie asked “What do you think?”

My reply, “How can we not do this?”

And with that, we were off. It didn’t matter that we didn’t have the money or support. I didn’t know where our “babies” were, how old they were, their names, or even if they were boys or girls. All I could say for sure was God had placed some children into our hearts. I never knew I could love someone I had never met, but there it was, a burning love for children I did not even know. And just as I would for any of my children, I wanted with every fiber of my being to find them, rescue them, and bring them home to safety, to be their hero.

At that time we had four children. The twin boys, Jake and Dan, were going on 18. Josh, our middle son, was 15. Grace, the baby, was 13.  Jeannie and I were coming up on our 19th wedding anniversary. We had been chasing around the world with the Navy and had finally settled in a little town just north of Memphis.

I don’t remember how we got connected to America World, but there we were. Three and a half years after our discussion, in August of 2009, Jeannie and I flew to Pavlodar, Kazakhstan to find the rest of our family. We met Alyohsa and Zhenya in a state run orphanage tucked away in the village of Kichiry. Alyosha was 8 and had grown up in the orphanage. His little sister Zhenya had just come to Kichiry 6 months earlier at the age of 5. The little boy and girl were the children God had burned into our hearts with a blowtorch back in 2006.

On October 10th, 2009, we brought Alyosha and Zhenya home, it was beautiful, wonderful, awesome. It was as though I was able to glimpse the dim reflection of God’s rescue and adoption of me. He had pursued me, found me where I was, paid an enormous price to ransom me, rescued me, and took me home as one of His sons.

It was also incredibly heartbreaking. We left behind 78 other children in the Kichiri Orphanage. These handsome young boys and beautiful girls had captured our hearts, and when we left them there, a piece of our broken hearts stayed behind with them. For me, I cry when I think about these children. I cry when I think about the girls without a father to protect them or give them away at their wedding. I cry for the boys who have no one to show them how to be a man, to teach them how to fish, to stand up for what is right, how to be a hero. Most importantly, they wont have anyone to show them what the Father’s unconditional love looks like, to teach them forgiveness, justice, and mercy.

Although I do not know what the statistics are for Kazakhstan, I think it is safe to say they would be similar to those of Russia or Ukraine. When an orphan ages out at 17 or 18, the girls will most likely go into prostitution, the boys will go into drug trafficking. The survival rate is low and the suicide rate is high. They will be sold to the highest bidder. When these vulnerable children walk into the world for the first time, there will most likely be someone there to offer them a place to stay, since they have no where else to go. That place will be one of pain and sorrow, and most likely death.

When I look at the photos of my children’s classmates, I can’t help but think about their future. I wonder who will stand in the gap for them, who will protect them, who will provide them refuge. Who will stand for justice and defend their innocence? Who will be willing to live James 1:27 in whole, not just part? Who will be their hero?

At this point I wish I could give an easy three point lesson on why men do not actively engage in orphan care, I cannot.   Come on! We are men, and Christian men to boot. We can find a way to do anything we really want to do. We can convince ourselves we need Rogain, an iPad, that Flying-V guitar at the music store, or a new car. We can find a way to watch any sporting event known to man, if we want to. It sounds ridiculous, but I have to say it, what is keeping you from “wanting” to defend the cause of the fatherless? What keeps you from standing between the innocent girls and the predators who will exploit them? What keeps you from showing a boy how to be a man? What is keeping you from being the hero God has destined you to be? I would bet that whatever it is, you can find a way around it, if you only want to.

I originally wrote this for @AnOrdinaryDad Lee Bodenmiller's web site Dads for Orphans. Lee is doing something amazing there in rallying men to step up to the plate and become more than spectators in serving the orphan. Please check it out, subscribe, follow him on twitter (@AnOrdinayDad), like him on Facebook, and help him out any way you can. 

Here I raise my Ebenezer...

         I don't think anyone else would call Memphis International Airport an "Ebenezer", except me. To me, each trip through Memphis International (MEM in airport speak) is an emotional walk down memory lane. To me, MEM is a place where I remember the wonder and awesome power of God working in our lives. MEM is a place where I am reminded of the help, comfort, and provision of God.

         In order to explain I have to set the way-back machine to 2006 when our adoption paperwork was done, our dossier was in country, and every day could be "the day" when we would get "the call". As the days and months went by, the thought of our "babies" spending another night in an orphanage became more and more painful.

         During this time I was traveling for work quite a bit. I found myself imagining what the day would be like when we finally brought our babies home from Kazakhstan. When I would land in Memphis I would found myself fighting back the tears of one more arrival home without them. It was always bitter sweet to be home again with my wife and kids, but still missing one piece.

         It was during one of the long walks from the gate to the car when I found out that we did finally get "the call". I remember putting my back up against a pillar in concourse B while I cried. Each trip away brought about another walk from Concourse B to the car. Each walk included an emotional appeal to God, “Please, please, please! Let Your promise finally come to fruition.”

         We did finally get our referral and appointment date. On August 7th, 2009, Jeannie and I walked through MEM on the first leg of our journey to Kazakhstan to meet the two new additions to our family. After two very long months, we returned to Memphis and walked down Concourse B. We choked back the flood of tears while holding tightly to the small hands of Alyosha and Zhenya. We were met by our older kids and a small group of wonderful friends. God had done what He had promised.

         For me, as long as it stands, MEM will be a monument, an Ebenezer, to God's grace and provision in our lives. Maybe when you walk through Memphis International, coming or going, making a connection, you will look at the pillars along Concourse B and be reminded also that God is faithful to do what He promised.

“Then Samuel too a stone and set it up between MIzpah and Shen and called its name Ebenezer (stone of the help), for he said, ‘Till now the Lord has helped us.’”

1 Samuel 7:12 (ESV)