Becoming real

With their sweet voices playing over and over in my head, I trudged through the paper chase with renewed enthusiasm. Their host family sent me a total of one hundred sixteen pictures of their summer adventures. I printed many of them and put them up all over the house. Now I had both a visual and an audio reminder of the purposes behind all this paperwork.

But I wanted to know more about their specific location while I talked with them. I looked up the name of their orphanage online, and I found much more than I expected, including lots of pictures and even some videos. Their living conditions actually impressed me. The orphanage appeared bright, clean, and child-friendly.

A huge surprise blessing soon overwhelmed me when I found a video posted online by a couple who adopted two children from the same orphanage. I got to see the outside of the buildings, the street where they lived, and I even found Viviana in the video! I couldn't mistake her sweet, high-pitched voice. That twenty second video lit up my world!

There she stood, my daughter, though much younger at the time. I can’t even count the number of times I replayed that video, longing for the day I could hear that sweet voice in my home every single day.

The orphanage permitted me to call the kids two times a week at specific times in the evening. I always tried, but I didn’t always reach them. My conversations with Viviana remained muffled, but sweet. I learned about her favorite colors, her interest and ability level in school, and whether or not she could read yet. She sure loved and missed the family who hosted her and her brother here in Texas.

Living with a family made a huge impression on her heart, a life-changing experience she would never forget. She adored their dog (and all animals in general). She seemed clueless about the adoption, so we purposely left it that way. My phone calls delighted her, and she continued to call me Tía. We kept the conversation topics pretty basic, but I did tell her I planned to visit her.

“I hope to go to Colombia to visit you someday so that I can see you again.” That excited her and gave us a more solid purpose for our talks.

I couldn’t reach Juan David as often, but our conversations took on a natural tone whenever we talked. I quickly found out he did know about our intent to adopt them.

“What do you think about that?” I asked hesitantly.

“It would be great!” Suddenly his voice filled with excitement, and his entire mood changed. He seemed so much more enthusiastic to talk and get to know me.

I wished Mike and David had more Spanish skills so they could talk to him, too. The more I learned about him confirmed what a great match he made for David as a brother. They both loved Math, and Juan David said he loved P.E. because he could play soccer. Funny, David claimed recess as his favorite “subject” because he gets to play soccer. These two boys would make a great pair together.

Being able to talk with my children perked me up again and helped me stay focused through the final steps of our adoption process. We wouldn’t make it by April, as hoped, and it looked like we couldn’t even make it by June.

God knew exactly what I needed at that point in time. Our paperwork finally arrived at the immigration level for processing.  Up to ninety days might pass before receiving approval, but at least that gave us a number and time frame to go by. It helped to know things moved along, not as quickly as I preferred, but at least nothing stood at a standstill.

We still waited to hear if we’d qualified for any grants or financial aid to help us pay for the rest of the process. We watched God miraculously provide every penny so far. We still owed the final amount to our agency,roughly another five thousand dollars. That included the second half of their normal fee, a translation fee, and our attorney fee.

Around the same time, I found myself wrestling with God over a matter He pressed on my heart. I knew He asked me to give a little over three hundred dollars to someone in particular. I whined and complained, saying, “But God, I’m in the middle of trying to adopt two children. I could really use that money for this process.”

He wouldn’t take the burden off my heart, though. I already paid the bills for the month, subtracted the amount from our checking account and budgeted for the month without that money. I stalled on actually writing the check, but eventually I obeyed the still, small voice and wrote it. I felt the burden lift as I addressed the envelope and put it in the mail.

God taught me an incredible lesson that very day. He couldn’t show me until I obeyed. You see, I put that check in the mailbox first thing in the morning before I left for work. That evening, Mike brought in the new mail, and we went through it together.

While I read one piece of mail and he another, Mike suddenly shouted out, “Rachelle! Listen to this!”

He proceeded to read the letter in his hand, saying a check for five thousand dollars had been sent to our agency to help cover our expenses. I wanted to cry. I felt so elated, yet ashamed at the same time. I’d argued with God over a measly three hundred dollars, and He turned around and blessed us with the entire remaining amount owed to our agency. Where God guides, He also provides, always.

Yet the blessings didn’t stop there. That same weekend, a couple in our church offered us an entire girl’s bedroom set they didn’t need any more.

“Thank you, Father. Thank you. Your goodness is so humbling.”

We really grew as a family during those last few months of waiting on our final document, our immigration approval. My weekly phone calls to Juan David and Viviana made their role in our lives a reality.

“Is David there? Is your husband home? Pass the phone to them, please.” Viviana loved hearing Mike and David’s voices on the phone, even if they didn’t understand more than a few words she said.

“How did David’s team do in their last game? Did they win?” Juan David asked about David’s soccer games almost every time I called, connecting them more as brothers.

These kids were real, no longer just pictures of two faces we’d met months ago and nearly forgotten about. Our bond with them grew day by day.

David talked about them as his brother and sister, and we talked about them as our children. They say once you adopt, you love the child as if they had always been your child. So why not love them and talk of them that way from the beginning? It made sense. We already claimed them as part of our family, a part of each one of us. I even noticed in my phone calls with Juan David that he already thought of David as his own little brother, too. We never talked about the adoption or where we stood in the process, but he knew, and to him, we already made a family of five.

The adventure of watching God continue to provide for our every need (not just financially) helped make the wait time much more bearable. We found out another Christian organization awarded us a Matching Grant for  twenty-five hundred dollars, meaning another possible five thousand dollars toward our travel expenses within Colombia if enough friends and family donated to match it.

We held three garage sales over the next month to raise money for the airline tickets. So many people donated to our sales, helping us raise overa thousand dollars, possibly enough to cover both kids’ plane tickets to come home. Everything seemed to fall right into place as we neared the end of our journey.

Still needing to make another trip to Austin to apostille a few documents, we planned to at least stop by our friends’ house while there (the ones who opened their home to us the two weekends we traveled to meet Juan David and Viviana). They ended up having to travel out of town that weekend, but they arranged for a neighbor to meet us to send us home with a beautiful bunk bed set for Juan David and David’s room that their own boys already outgrew.

“Thank you, God.”

Now, He not only provided the bedroom set for Viviana’s room, but He also provided the bunk beds for David and Juan David to share. Endless provisions continued coming! What a beautiful experience for our family.

​Our faith grew exponentially. God brought everything together, showing us His plans are not our plans, but they are always better. His timing is not our timing, but it’s always perfect.  

Juan David asked me to send him a special blanket he left behind in Austin, a blue quilt someone made for him. On our most recent trip to Austin, his host family happened to send us back with all of the kids’ toys, clothes, and belongings that they purposely held onto for their adoptive family. Special items they knew the kids would love to see again in their new home, including the blankets made for them!

I couldn’t wait to tell Juan David I finally held his blanket in my possession. We set up the bunk beds as soon as we got home, and I draped his blanket over the railing on the top bunk. It felt like I brought a little part of him home, too. Seeing it on the bed where he would one day sleep made him feel so much closer. Still, my heart ached for him more every day. Eight months now slipped through our fingers.

A simple phone call

Almost seven months passed since meeting our children. We hit many bumps in the road, completed more paperwork and cleared ourselves through more background checks than we ever imagined. Nothing went as planned or according to the timeline I originally assumed based on others’ stories.

Some days I felt a sudden burst of inspiration and pressed on confidently. God led us this far already. He wouldn’t let us or those precious children down.

Then other days I ran head on into a wall of anxiety, wondering if, after all of this, something could go wrong. When would we finally reach the end so we could travel to Colombia to get them? If we couldn’t go in the summer time, a whole other dimension of details needed to work out because of school.

My pretty little picture didn’t look so pretty anymore. I envisioned a beautiful puzzle where nearly every piece fit perfectly, but the remaining missing pieces left a gaping hole in the picture. What did our final masterpiece look like? What parts of our journey to our children had we not yet seen?

My heart ached for what Juan David and Viviana might be experiencing on their end. Did they think we changed our minds? Did they wonder if a family might not ever come for them? Did they even still remember us, after having only spent two afternoons with us, now seven months ago? I assumed a multitude of questions consumed them after these seven months of complete silence on our end.

Through a random conversation with the kids’ host family, I soon found out I could make phone calls to the kids during the process! The hosting program strives to keep them connected to a family or a caring adult after they leave. The continued communication helps solidify a bond, especially for an older child, before they ever join a family.

I contacted the program coordinator as soon as I found out! She couldn’t believe I didn’t know earlier or that these kids lost all contact with us when they returned home. She immediately made connections for me to find out what days and times the orphanage gave permission for the kids to receive phone calls. It thrilled me to know I could soon talk with them, hear their voices, and learn more about them while I continued to wait.

Their defender and their social worker both suggested I ask the kids questions about their daily life, their likes and dislikes, etc. I could let them know we were in the process of trying to adopt them, but I should not discuss the process with them in any way. Children in these circumstances struggle to handle the anxiety of waiting for such a possibility, wondering daily how much longer it might take.

I felt anxious and nervous as I dialed the number to the orphanage. I didn’t even know what I would say, other than to ask if they still remembered me.

“Yes, I remember you. You’re David’s mom.” That first phone call with Juan David felt so awkward, but I loved how he remembered David. Once I knew he remembered us, I asked question after question about his daily life. We talked comfortably with one another.

“I’m doing homework right now. . . I still need school supplies . . .  I am in fourth grade . . . I like Math, and I love P.E. because I get to play soccer . . . Yes, I would like for you to call me more.” We only talked for a short while before I ran out of things to say.

“Hola, Tía!” Viviana could barely contain her excitement over getting a phone call!  She called me Tía (Auntie), which sounded so sweet to me. She told me all about a doll she left in Texas and a suitcase the orphanage kept after she returned home. I heard a ton of noise in the background, and she definitely struggled with phone etiquette. I don’t think she held the phone correctly because everything sounded muffled. I struggled to understand her words. I still cherished every moment of the conversation, taking in every single sound. I learned about her by listening to her environment. Priceless.

What a privilege to finally hear their voices again so much earlier than I thought.

Bonding time

Silence Broken

From the moment I first saw them

amidst the whole group of fourteen,

my heart embraced the siblings

I found on my computer screen.

After many prayers for guidance,

and a chance to spend a day with them,

I found my heart completely captured,

treasuring each moment like a gem.

Thus began a mound of paperwork,

an intense interrogation of our lives.

Each success and failure under a microscope

while we shared our passions and our drives.

Every day that I heard nothing,

I wondered what was wrong.

I fought between faith and anxiety,

knowing this process would be long.

Many days I'm filled with hope,

so humbled by such a call.

Other days I can't seem to rest,

so afraid of hitting a wall.

As I wait on yet another clearance,

and attempt to raise what funds remain,

I'm taking the opportunity

to hear their voices again.

We started with a simple phone call,

so brief yet so profound.

The silence has now been broken.

I don't want to miss a single sound.

I still can hear their voices,

our conversations play in my head.

I hear the background noise around them.

I remember every word they said.

He said he needed school supplies.

She said she had a lot of friends.

His environment seemed rather quiet,

Hers sounded loud and quite intense.

He said he was reading.

She worked on homework at the time.

He seemed polite and respectful.

Her telephone skills weren't so prime.

She said she was in first grade.

He said he was in grade four.

She talked about a doll and a suitcase.

He said I could call him more.

So now I don't have to wait

to start building the bond I so desire.

What a memory to pass on to my children

Of God bonding us over a wire . . .

Never short

“The hospital settled for less, and the difference between the two amounts covers our home study fees exactly!” Mike and I just stared at the numbers on the paper, in awe of God’s calculations.

After living through financial disaster years earlier in our marriage, including bills from two surgeries with no insurance coverage, fears about money issues consumed me. We lived through days without money to pay the bills or even buy groceries. We couldn’t even afford to keep a phone in our home, and we had to pick and choose what to pay each month. Creditors constantly contacted us, and my self-worth fell extremely low. I couldn’t even fathom a day where we could financially pursue something like an adoption.

Thankfully, our God is faithful. He allowed us to suffer for a while to learn a few valuable lessons. Then, in His perfect time, He rescued us from the pit and set us on solid ground again. Several years later, when we felt the call to commit to the El Salvador adoption, we finally climbed our way back out of all past debt. When we obey His leading and follow, when we step into the waters, He parts them and provides a way. His time arrived for our children to join us, and He would provide the necessary resources to complete this adoption.

So I shouldn’t have been surprised when each time we wrote a check, paid a fee, swallowed the expenses for an evaluation, paid extremely high postage for overnight mail to and from, paid for gas to drive four hours to apostille our documents, (and then drive four hours back), etc., I never found a shortage of money in our account. It reminded me of the widow in the Bible whose flour and oil never ran out (I Kings 7:7-16). Not a single instance existed where we didn’t have the money we needed in time for the next step. Nor did we find ourselves in need. We walked each step by faith. God never let us down.

God’s constant faithfulness reminded us we chose the right path. We faced a financial monster. Yet now, face to face with the monster, God trumped our fear. I will never minimize the incredible ordeal involved in an international adoption process. I now have the utmost respect for anyone who has gone through it in order to bring home their child. But God used the experience in countless ways to show me His greatness in comparison to the fears I face. He strengthened my faith, and He grew in me a patience I didn’t know I could possess, a patience I desperately needed for the road ahead.

Finally, after several months and various trials, we had a complete home study and psychological evaluation in hand. We liked the way the social worker portrayed us as a Christ-centered couple (which I did not expect, coming from a secular agency). We did not see any areas of concern in her report. Our psychologist pleased us by the way he described us, carefully showing how we overcame family history issues and allowed past struggles to help us find our way as a couple and a family with David.

The results of the personality assessment, however, did not settle so well with us. They pointed out the good, the bad, and the ugly. They suggested behaviors that can appear common among certain personality types, such as drugs and alcohol, manipulation, low self-esteem, insecurity, etc. I read through it several times before I understood it said we may show some of those tendencies due to our personality types, but if we did, it would likely be reflected either in the psychologist’s findings or the social worker’s. Once I realized that, I felt better because neither our psychologist nor our social worker portrayed us in any sort of negative light in their reports. That “realization,” unfortunately, would come back to haunt me later.

Once the social worker finished her final report, she turned it in to the agency to put the official seal on it. However, the lady from that agency then e-mailed me with her own concerns after she read through the report herself.

“The financial information you provided only answered the basic questions. Due to your financial history as a couple, I need you to give me a detailed budget of your living expenses to prove your ability to take care of the special needs of two more children. Don’t forget, they will need new clothes, shoes, and other accessories as soon as they come home.”

My heart sank. If they worried about our financial status, why couldn’t they bring that up in the beginning rather than wait till now? But, as we sat down to look at all of our expenses in detail, it actually helped us to take a good look at the physical, psychological, and financial needs of older adopted children.

We made room in the budget for not only their basic needs but also their mental and emotional needs. We found exact numbers for the cost of counseling, the cost of a special activity for each child to help them fulfill an emotional desire, and we still accounted for the cost of food, clothing, shoes, etc. Once again, God proved faithful and showed us ways to live frugally enough so the numbers would work out on paper. We received approval shortly after completing it.

Finally official, the state of Texas qualified and approved us to adopt up to two children from Colombia. Six whole months already passed since we met them. Once again, we felt like we stood on a mountaintop!

Now we could move on to the immigration stage. Once we received our official home study report in the mail, we could set up our appointment to get fingerprinted on this new level. It included another hefty fee of over eight hundred dollars. These prints passed through the immigration stage to approve us to adopt a child from another country. This part could take months of waiting, the last step on the U.S. side of the process before sending the completed paperwork (dossier) to Colombia for approval. It amazed me how many levels you had to be approved on, another reminder of our complete naivety when we began.

Divine Calculations

Found on instapray.com

 

Divine Calculations

So many appointments
and papers to track down,
so much of our income
going all over town.

What drove us to these measures
when we could just sit back?
Why go through all the trouble
when there are other things we lack?

Yet every penny spent
gives me an overwhelming joy,
to know that God provided it
all for an orphan girl and boy.

I gaze upon their picture
every morning as I pray.
I'm overwhelmed with gratitude
at how He's paved the way.

Sure, there have been some struggles,
surprising curves along our road,
but with our Divine compass,
the right direction always showed.

We haven't lacked a penny
to complete this paper chase.
We've never lacked direction
to make it through this maze.

God has given me such confidence,

knowing it's HIS timeline that counts.
He's provided all we've needed,
so who am I to have my doubts?

I know He brought these children
so clearly to our path.
It's all a matter of faith,
letting God do all the math.

Tedious paperwork and activity

 

While we waited, we chased more documents on each list, including several background checks, fingerprints, medical forms, pet vaccinations, family photos, pictures of our home, etc., plus we continued to seek financial aid.

Where did we start with so much to tackle?

First, we contacted the psychologist on staff in the Counseling Department at our church to ask him to conduct our psychological evaluations. Not knowing what to expect, we surprisingly felt quite at ease through the evaluation. He also addressed the specific family history issues that Colombia requested, so everything seemed to go well.

He sent us home with a test, similar to a personality test, to complete separate of each other. It’s one of those tests where you choose the first thing that comes to your mind. Trying to analyze your answers can actually skew the results or will not give an accurate description of your true personality. We both completed them on our own time and returned them to the psychologist to include the results with his report.

Our agency’s guidelines stated to take a specific test, or “one similar” that showed a certain type of result. It looked for any psycho-social issues. Our psychologist went with the similar test because he always used it for these types of purposes, so we didn’t think anything of it. We had no idea how much weight Colombia put on these test results.

I rejoiced every time I crossed a task off one of the many lists. Every accomplishment moved us closer to the day I could bring my children home. This lifelong dream became more of a reality each day. It humbled us to know God chose these two specific children for our family all along.

I wondered often how many ways God intertwined our lives since the day of their birth, preparing us for them and them for us. I journaled daily throughout it all, documenting every step we took, every penny we spent, and every time I thought about them. I wrote their story with passion, the story of God bringing our family together.

When time discouraged me, I tried to live by my new motto of faith. “It's all on God's timetable, and who am I to try to get ahead of His plan?” He knows the day we will travel to Colombia and the exact day they will officially become my children. (I desperately hoped for the spring, by Viviana’s seventh birthday in April, also our tenth anniversary as a husband and wife. What a celebration!)

Despite all the “hurry-up and wait” instances, the tedious paperwork, and the added expenses, I still felt on top of the mountain. Nothing could give me more joy than pursuing this adoption. My children awaited me, and I would do everything necessary to bring them home. It amazed me to actually be in this process after dreaming for so many years. I reflected over many events in our lives and realized how God prepared and equipped us our entire lives for this purpose.

Humbling, to say the least.

 



 Picture found earlier on themadnessco.com



Just the beginning of a long, bumpy road

Unfortunately, we quickly hit a bump in the road regarding our home study. After making several phone calls and leaving messages with our social worker, she finally called me back.

“I’m sorry, but I cannot complete the rest of your home study. I am not qualified to perform a home study for Colombia.”

Oh, no! We knew this set us back quite a bit, yet we didn’t know how much.

So naive at the time, I didn’t have a clue how to find a social worker qualified to do a home study for Colombia. Another school year already started, severely limiting my time to do research and make phone calls during business hours. I hated to think of my children waiting any longer on us than necessary. I considered finding out who did the majority of the home studies in Austin for the families adopting the other Colombian children who came in the summer. Could she come to Dallas?

The program coordinator in the Austin area gave me a name to contact, so I sent a message to that social worker, who, of course, happened to be out of the office for a week. I reluctantly waited. What else could I do? Desperate to find somebody quickly in my own limited time, I neglected to research any other options. In the meantime, we spent a week filling out financial aid paperwork, applying for grants, and collecting letters of reference from our pastor, family, and friends.

Fortunately, the social worker responded to my e-mail quickly once she returned to her office. She could travel to Dallas to complete our home study, with fees reflecting her added travel expenses. She sent me the application (along with a list of all the required documents). Yep, we started completely over with the home study process.

So much for thinking we were ahead of the game. Now, we might even lag behind, plus we’d lost an entire month. Since our previous social worker had some of the information needed for our new home study, we requested her to send our entire packet back to us so we could forward most of it on to our new social worker. Thankfully, she complied quickly and refunded us the percentage of our fees to her that we didn't use for services so far. Since we’d already completed one out of the three visits, we couldn’t get a full refund. However, the remaining amount covered the new fees.

We finally switched from one home study agency to the other, now working with both an adoption agency and a social worker who dealt specifically with these Colombian adoptions. I did feel a little uncomfortable, completely pulling out of a solid Christian agency to start up with two secular agencies. Suddenly, our Christ-connection we shared with the previous agency and social worker no longer existed. Now they saw us as people with a “religion” we lived by, with a “faith” not always understood. I hoped that wouldn’t matter, as long as we got our kids. But honestly, it did matter, and it made the road ahead much more difficult and uncomfortable.

Our first agency prayed over our family. They prayed weekly over every family adopting a child through their organization. We took comfort in that. With our new agencies, nothing of the sort took place. Fortunately, our church family fulfilled that role and prayed us through the months ahead as we trudged through this overwhelming process.

Those first few steps consumed a great deal of time as we hurried to complete and send out all the applications and forms. After that, time crept by. I prayed for those children every single day. Their pictures motivated me and kept my heart filled with joy as I waited through each part of the process.

We couldn’t schedule our home study for almost two whole months. Fortunately, this agency only required one visit. The social worker met with us as a family, as a couple, and then individually. We felt at ease talking with her. She walked through the house and mentioned a few areas needing attention, like a lock on the shed door. She seemed pleased and said she’d send us a copy of her report to go over before turning it in.

Then the next blow came.

“I will send you a complete rough draft within about four to eight weeks.” The wait might extend for possibly two more months. Ugh.

Our children seemed to drift further and further away. I wished I could explain to them why it took so long. However, they didn’t really know about a possible adoption. Someone told them we would try, so they had their suspicions, at least Juan David did. Viviana’s young age prevented her from really understanding.