My Symphony

This year. Wow. What an amazing year!

A year that redefined our family and priorities. A year that brought so much joy that sometimes my breath was taken away. A year that brought so much unknown that sometimes I could barely draw my next breath. Thank God that He gives me breath and peace. And His promise.

A year of paperwork, travel, new perspectives, delicious hours spent blobbing on the couch as a family.

I wouldn't do even one thing differently.

And now for my favorite poem / resolution for the New Year:

To live content with small means;

To seek elegance rather than luxury,

and refinement rather than fashion;

To be worthy, not respectable;

and wealthy, not rich;

To study hard,

think quietly, 

talk gently, 

act frankly;

To listen to stars and birds,

To babes and sages, with open heart,

to bear all cheerfully,

do all bravely,

await occasions, 

hurry never.

...To let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious,

grow up through the common.

This is to be my symphony.

-Wm. Henry Channing

Cheers, my friends! May 2014 bring even more adventure and love. 

Of IEP's, Christmas Crazies and Giving Hearts (a two-fer the price of one blog post)

We had our case conference meeting for Daniel yesterday and it was very interesting. I am very happy that we made the decision to have him tested, because we knew that he needed help catching up. And it wasn't scary. It was encouraging. Honestly. Because now we have a picture of how he best learns at this point. And we have a piece of paper that says he will have access to the things that will help him.

Bah for labels. In my opinion I would rather have my kid being pulled out part of the day for special education by professionals than have him stumble along because I don't want him "labeled." I have utmost peace with our decision.

One interesting highlight of the meeting was when the question was posed to me, "So, what kind of medication are you giving Daniel for his behavior?" "Nothing." "Nothing?!" Later I spoke with the teacher and she said that everyone was sure that Daniel must "be on" something because his behavior has improved so much. I am certainly not against medications, but the best thing we have done, medication-wise, was taking him off of everything. We have him on tons of nutritional supplements and don't add sugar to anything that he eats, but that is all. 

And I get uncomfortable when people say, "You have done such a great job with him." I have two replies to that. Number one: Daniel is good. He has always had goodness in him, he just needed room to be good. Number two: We are not doing anything that anyone couldn't do. We take care of our kids. We give them help on their homework. We enforce rules and allow consequences. We encourage free thought and want to raise children who can work out solutions. This is parenting. 

________________________

People often ask me if Daniel knows what Christmas is. Yes. Yes he does. And he is totally geeked about it. Thanks for asking. Haha.

Today was magical for Daniel at school. And I was really happy that he was as "calm" as he was by the end of the day. He has been talking non-stop about the fun things that he got to do. 

Daniel left his school around 12:15, after making sure that he had handed out all his little gifts to his teachers and aids. Then we headed to Claire's class. I tell you what, I love, love, LOVE that Daniel gets the opportunity to spend his time this way. The first grade classes at Claire's school did a little room trading for some fun stations and while I was helping Claire's teacher, Daniel was going around with the other kids doing the activities. It was so fun to hang back and watch how he just fit right in and participated. Again, school has been such a blessing to our family. I have often beaten myself up that I am not a homeschool mama. I mean, what kind of hippie am I if I allow my children to take standardized tests? Be that as it may, there is something to be said for school. There are things I don't like (politics, tests, pressures, conformity) but those are all easily outweighed by the wonderful educators that love my children and are passionate about them and compassionate to them. We are very, very blessed.

As a mama my favorite part of today, regarding Daniel, was when we got home and he went through his bag of goodies that got sent home with him. He gave his siblings first choice of candy, offered them coloring pages out of his new coloring books and on and on. Always followed by his little Ukie voice saying, "Merry Christmas!"

Life These Days... (Nineteen Weeks Home)

I realized I really haven't done a stat update for a long time.

I guess that is because things have become so normal.

Daniel has been going a modified day at school. That has been really great because it has given Daniel and I an opportunity to really spend a lot of one on one time together. It is my anticipation that his days will begin increasing very soon. We requested testing be done in order to have Daniel receive more one on one help. He had zero school experience before this year, so obviously he is behind all the other children. We received the preliminary report yesterday and it was very encouraging. Again, delayed in everything, but taking into account his situation with English and background, he is not considered to be mentally delayed, more so environmental.

My gut tells me academically we are going to have a stinky couple of years and then he is going to come around and do well. And when he graduates I am going to get kicked out of the auditorium for whooping and hollering. Yes. I will be "one of those people." 

I love the English acquisition. It has given me such insight into what goes on in his head. A few nights ago we were at the dinner table and he was lolly gagging (no surprise there) and he said, 

"When I was a baby in the tummy Jesus is talking to me. When I am in detskiy dom and I am wondering what to do, Jesus is talking to me. All the time, all the time." 

It is so encouraging. And thrilling. And sometimes heartbreaking.

Today he saw a picture on my Facebook page about the political situation in Ukraine. He looked so sad and said, "I have no home."

Such a ball of beautiful and hard and fun and laughter and yuck and different and blessed.

The children are getting along really well together. Playing and laughing. Wyatt talking to Daniel in his version of a Russian accent.

Last night Daniel finally spent the night in the room with the rest of the kids. It had been our intention to have all the children together from the get-go but while I was with Daniel in Ukraine I noticed several things that made me think he should have his own space for awhile; rocking, trouble falling asleep, snoring. The trouble falling to sleep quickly resolved once he was detoxed from all that garbage he was being dosed with at the orphanage. The rocking is hit or miss. I would say he maybe rocks for fifteen minutes every week and a half or so. Very rare. The snoring also seems to have resolved. I think it had something to do with all the fat he was carrying around from the aforementioned drugs.

Tonight he is back in his own room. Even though he did well last night I don't want to push things. If there is a transition to be made I would prefer to do it over Christmas break. We have church tomorrow, so if he doesn't sleep well, we are going to have a beast on our hands.

As far as hard goes...I think right now the struggle I am facing is having every single behavior reported to me. He threw a lego in class? Tell his mother. He laid down in the snow? Tell his mom.

Let me lay this out: Daniel has struggled with A LOT of things coming home. Language, new culture, being in a family, riding in cars, going to school, being around different people on an ongoing basis. He has been blasted with NEW. At first this looked like tantrums, aggression, fear, etc. We have POURED into him to help him regulate those behaviors. And it is working! So, hearing about a lego being thrown, or whatever other act of child-like behavior my CHILD has engaged in, is kind of overwhelming. Sometimes I just want to say "ENOUGH!"

I am just really so thankful that things have been going in a consistently positive direction. Sometimes it is two steps forward and one step back, but it is moving forward steadily. And I think when you begin having good days you realize that you will have more and more. And things get easier. And new hard things emerge, but the relationship is growing and you just keep swimming. And you don't deny the blech, but you don't embrace it either.

And life goes on.

And it is crazy beautiful.

Keepsakes: Updated

The holidays are rich with tradition. In the Sponseller house one of the big traditions is ornaments. The children each have special ornaments that tell their story.

The Charlie Brown ornament that Grace picked out that has Lucy being grossed out by Snoopy's kisses.

The Superman onesie that was Wyatt's first Christmas ornament.

The chorus of dogs barking Jingle Bells that Claire chose to celebrate her love of dogs.

Every year. 

Except for Daniel.

I had just assumed that it would not be a big deal, but last night while decorating Christmas tree, the first glimmer came of how starting-from-scratch Daniel is. And it made me sad. He would admire the other children's ornaments (or "toys") but desperately search the box for one of his own, which he doesn't have yet.

He has stories of Dedushka Moroz (Grandpa Frost/Santa Claus) and Christmas trees. And candy under his pillow if he was good enough. And none if he wasn't.

I think about how I cherish pouring over pictures of days gone by. Hundreds of them. Stacks of them. Boxes of them. Family who I have never met but who's eyes I have.

Belonging.

My sweet Daniel has a little Mickey Mouse photo album with around ten pictures of his life before. His "baby" photo which shows an adorable four year old. Several photos from the government registry. Photos of children who have passed through his life; some coming to America, some to the internat.

Oh my heart.

So, my goal is to either find or make an ornament. It will have to be special. A spiderman ornament with "Daniel Sponseller's first American Christmas." Because it is not his first Christmas. He speaks of Christmas at the detskiy dom with fondness. I can't not acknowledge that. He has a past.

He has a future.

Update: (Friday, December 6)

So, after stewing on this, I decided to do the following: I went out today and bought Daniel eight Christmas ornaments and told him a story for every one. I picked out a baby ornament for his first Christmas and told him that I am sad that he wasn't with me for his first Christmas but that I know he was a beautiful baby and I bet people just loved to kiss his cheeks. A snow man because I know how much he loves snow and I have seen pictures of him bundled up like a little snow man. A pickle because he loves pickles. I went through and told him a story for each and every ornament. He was so excited. He kept telling the other kids what a cute baby that he was and showing them his ornaments and retelling the stories that I told him. 

We also are blessed that one of the pictures that was in Daniel's little book was a Christmas photo of all the kids together with one of them dressed up as Santa, so I asked him if he could bring that picture to me and I framed it and stuck it with all the other Santa photos.

A big thanks to Marcie who mentioned the thought of "If I had been your Mommy." And a thanks to the clerk at the Hallmark store who took pity on me after hearing what I was trying to do and gave me a 40% off coupon.

Exciting News For Asher

HOORAY!!!!!

Click here to check out what God has done for Asher.

Help Bring Asher Duvall Home.

UPDATE #2: As of TODAY (11/19) Jon and Carly have raised a little over $600! That is great, but there is still a ways to go. Please consider sponsoring a puzzle piece ($25), buying a head warmer ($10), or just plain old donating (any amount is so appreciated)! I cannot stress how important that this is.

Adoption is a huge undertaking.

As a parent, you see a picture of a child and in that instant you KNOW that God called you to them. And suddenly no mountain seems too high, because YOU ARE GOING TO GET YOUR CHILD.

And it doesn't matter that some close friends and family just don't get it. It hurts that they don't get it, but it doesn't deter your sense of purpose.

In this case my friends Jon and Carly SAW little Asher Jui from China, a six year old with Down's Syndrome.

And they are filled with a passion to bring him home, but right now they are really struggling to scrape the funds together.

Jon and Carly have three other (home-grown) children, who have decided that they would rather have a brother than Christmas presents this year.

Carly is crocheting like mad; she has some seriously cute head warmers that would make excellent Christmas gifts. 

They had a garage sale to raise a chunk to pay their application fee and start the home study.

The agency that they are working with is reminding them repeatedly about the first payment, $2500, that is due no later than January 13, 2014. Even though that is the due date, the need is much more urgent than two months away. Because (and I am so not an expert on the Chinese process) when Jon and Carly mailed their letter of intent to China and received approval, that started the clock ticking...six months to submit their dossier or they lose Asher. The file is closed. And there is nothing to be done about it. So, that being the case and the fact that they are being told that the dossier takes 4 months to put together, the need is NOW. I would just love to see God pour out blessings through His people, who are called according to His purpose. I would love to see them have those funds by Thanksgiving. 

They have started the process with the agency. Paid the application fee. Paid to get the home study started.

They need to come up with around $10,000 total before they can even begin applying for grants.

It is such a vicious cycle. Payment after payment coming due and no grant funds available until travel.

I know exactly the overwhelming feeling that comes when you look and see that dollars are what stand between you and the child of your heart.

But I can also testify that God provided for us in amazing, grace-filled ways to bring home our little man. And I am trusting, as are they, that God will move in His people's hearts to help bring home Asher.

Some people are very critical of adoption fund-raising. The Bible is pretty clear about what we are supposed to do when it comes to orphans. I know that even before we embarked on our own journey, I was always excited to help others. Because how many opportunities do we have to literally touch the life of an orphan?

So, if you don't feel called to give financially, or if you are unable to, don't feel like you are exempt from helping. PRAY. Pray. Pray. Pray. Because this adoption is ON THE LINE. This redemption story is ON THE LINE unless GOD and HIS people step in.

You can check out Jon and Carly's blog to find out how to support them in this endeavor. (Just a side note: if you donate to their Reece's Rainbow fund right now, those monies won't be released until travel, so please choose the "donate" button at the top left hand side that will link to PayPal.)

And, please, Dear Readers, pray for the Duvall family.

(Good grief, this kid is ADORBS)

The Call.

So, this is a thought that has been ruminating in my mind for awhile. I verbalized it to Garth last night and it didn't sound too far out there and so I am sharing it here.

Being called is Biblical. 

"And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified." -Romans 8:28-30 

I think that our idea is that we might be called to something extra special. But Romans shows us that those who are predestined (believers), are called.

There are certain things that we all must be doing. 

The great commission. 

^"Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” -Matthew 28:19-20

Caring for orphans and widows.

"Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world." -James 1:27

When do you get called?

Why do you get called?

In our house "the call" happens when everyone else is in the van and there is a straggler. It is usually Garth or Grace and the reason is that they are either brushing teeth or looking for stockings. (I'll let you guess who is doing what.)

Because there are things that we always do. That are unspoken. I mean, we ALWAYS go to church on Sunday mornings. It isn't a surprise. We just do it. Every. Time. And yet EVERY TIME there are stragglers that need called. It isn't a holy thing that they are called. It is because they aren't where they are supposed to be in the first place.

You see where I am going with this?

Garth was called to adopt, because God needed to get him in the van. But I was already there, putting on lipstick in the rear view mirror and waiting. 

The call has gone out, Dear Reader. You don't have to wait for your personal invitation, it has already arrived.

It's O.K.

This post is a response to all the somber posts about adoption that I have seen floating around to "celebrate" adoption month.

It is ok.

I may lose some friends for saying that, but if others are preaching the "It's NOT ok" I figure I can throw in my two cents.

I am not an expert about adoption. (Let me clear the air about that one.)

Adoption is hard. It comes from loss and unimaginable yuck. And this person, this child, this soul, is pulled through the knot hole of hard and they are changed. Forever.

And, inevitably, bringing such a soul into your life is going to change you.

Forever.

And if that freaks you out, run. But if you can open your heart to the idea that some things don't develop the way that we think that they should, and sometimes that makes them just a little more special. And if you can readjust your idea of what a perfect day is, then get comfy, my friend, because adoption might be for you.

I went on a field trip with my first grader, Claire, a couple of weeks ago and we went to an apple orchard. They had some special apples set aside. This one grew between two branches. It never had the wide open space to develop the way that an apple should.

But if you look at it from another perspective, it has taken the hard and become extra beautiful.

So, when we are going through the hard it is nice to know that our kid isn't the first one to give the bird.  Or play with knives. Or cuss. Or flop in the grocery store. Or stink at school. Or... well, you get the picture. And it has been absolutely a God-send to have wonderful friends come alongside me and tell me "It is normal" and I am so glad that they followed up with "It is ok."

God has never justified the broken. But He has redeemed. In fact, that is His business.

It is important not to dwell on the negative. At least for me. Because there is so much beauty. And when I read these well-meaning, cautionary posts, it drags me down. And makes me feel a little less tolerant of kid behavior. Especially if that kid has an accent. 

So I celebrate the victories. Mourn the loss. And I yearn for the day that God will restore what has been taken. And I pray for those on the other side of Daniel's story.

And I will hold with two hands to the fact that we had an entire week of smooth sailing. Seven full days of good choices. (Even though sometimes we would have to remind him.)

And I will thank God that He hardwired this child of His for a family. And that Daniel loves us and that when asked by a sibling "Did your Mom die?" he took said sibling by the arm, brought them to where I was sitting and said, "No, Mommy is here. You crazy." I will rejoice that my little blue-eyed boy now lavishes affection and seeks positive attention.

(This is a spontaneous picnic that broke out today in the midst of a fierce pirate battle)

And I will hold these truths to me. 

I will not search for trouble. Today has enough of its own.

But I will search for wonder. And happiness. And blessings. And God.

(And I will be VERY THANKFUL that this little boy who rarely saw a tooth brush prior to July has perfect teeth.)

And I will let myself be happy. 

It's ok.

Orphan Sunday

This Sunday is Orphan Sunday.

And it gets me to thinking of The Plight of The Orphan. I have spent a couple of posts advocating for children that I met on my journey, but if any of you know me well, you know that one child sticks with me above all others, and so this post is a Shameless Plug for Sasha Pastov.

Sasha Pastov is Daniel's best friend from the detskiy dom (children's home) who was moved to the internat (boarding school) during our first visit to Ukraine.

Here is a post that I shared on my private facebook group:

"Daniel's best friend was moved to the internat today. This is not a good place for children. Sasha is simple and sweet. When we left on Wednesday Daniel said "dasvadanya" but Sasha said, "Bye, Guys!" Yesterday he and Daniel were trading sunglasses and laughing together. He asked us when he would see us again. Tomorrow, we said. Instead of seeing us he was bundled into a car, driven away from his home with nothing but the clothes on his back, not even his new Fisher Price sunglasses and dropped off. The nanny said he was begging and crying. And that the abuse from the other children had already begun. This is NO LIFE for a child. Pray for Sasha. I am trying to get his information to advocate for him with any waiting child organizations. Sasha needs a home. " - June 21

We have been getting updates here and there through our facilitator. Unfortunately the internat is every bit as bad as we thought. Maybe worse. He is asking for a family. Asking to be moved back to the detskiy dom. 

And, so far, no one has heard him.

You see, Sasha has many things going against him. He is HIV positive. He has mental delays, probably due to fetal alcohol syndrome. He is 11. And as far as adopting goes, the first two categories don't knock him out, because there are families out there fearlessly and prayerfully embracing children with these struggles, but being over the age of ten kind of does knock him out. Not because people don't adopt older children. Because they do. But, you see, he has a combination. A perfect storm. Children that are over the age of ten who are HIV positive have to undergo special tuberculosis testing due to CDC (that is right, OUR CDC) regulations. The children have to have a chest x-ray, a skin test and a sputum test. And they have to wait for the culture to come back. And that adds around EIGHT weeks IN COUNTRY to the process of adopting him. Until those cultures come back clear, the US won't issue a visa. 

Now, I know. We can argue about why this is super unfair. And there is nothing that you could say that I wouldn't agree with. But it is what it is.

And for Sasha, unless God moves someone mightily and SOON, this is a guarantee that he will most likely not be picked.

And I grapple with why some children get families and others don't. I read the story of the boy in Florida who said that he had lost weight and would try his best if he could only have a family and he would take anyone. Kids shouldn't have to worry about being cute enough, or smart enough. They should have a family. Period.

So this Orphan Sunday, please pray for the orphans. Like the boy in Florida showed, there are children who need families everywhere. 

Please pray for Sasha.

Because even though circumstances might be against him, God is FOR HIM. And even though the world may not hear him, God does.

And share this post. 

It may save a life.

A Picture (or two) Worth a Thousand Words

Young women will dance and be happy,

    young men and old men will join in.

I’ll convert their weeping into laughter,

    lavishing comfort, invading their grief with joy.

Jeremiah 31:13 (The Message)

The picture on the left was taken at the medical center on July 29, 2013. The one on the right was taken today, October 22, 2013, at home. Twelve weeks between the two of them. Six thousand miles. A world of confidence. A cracking of the shell. A new child.

God knows that this was exactly what I needed to see today. To realize how far we have come. To count how short a time it has happened in. God opened my eyes to these pictures today to encourage me. To see that this matters. And even though I kind of choke on some of the adoption talk, I mean, who are we to redeem? I have always felt that was presumptuous, only God redeems. But you know what? God grants us the grace to partner with HIM in HIS work. Yes, even the work of redemption. And this, Dear Readers, THIS is the face of redemption. A redemption you are taking part in through your prayers and words of support and sense of humor.

May these pictures bless you today, like they have me.

Better and Better

At first this new life seemed ruined. Everything that we were was in upheaval. We were in survival mode. There are days that we don't do what we used to.

When we first thought about adopting an older child we had the thought that we really didn't want a baby because we didn't want to start the clock over. But adoption is starting the clock over, in a sense. But you have to work harder. Old habits to unlearn. New options to be explored. Such an adventure. And a shorter time to do it in.

As you know from past posts, we have really struggled with Daniel's school situation. Right now he is going partial days, which really has been a positive step for him. He is much less stressed. Much more centered. The hard part is for ME. I had been mentally gearing up to have the day to myself to get things done. But instead, I have about two hours by the time my running is done. And then I have a curious, discovering, exploring little sponge with me for the rest of the day. Who barges in while I am going to the bathroom to show me whatever thing he has figured out.

I have had to reconfigure my expectations. I had to gain the perspective (and am still working on it) that I have poured into each of my children. Years at home with Mama. Hours spent at story time. Days whiled away walking through the mall or the zoo. Even my big exchange student boys, Pedro and João, hours spent talking about everything and nothing. I have decided that I need to pour into Daniel too. Hours spent watching Lilo and Stitch. Going to Walmart. Reading books. That I must sow if I ever hope to reap.

And so, I sow. And I water. And we laugh. And he tells me that he is Daddy's baby. And the brown-eyed ones are starting to love him, not just put up with him, not just feel sorry for him. But accept him. He calls Gracie "Monster" last night. So she calls him "Booger." And they all laugh about it. And they hug him and he prays for them.

And slowly but surely the seeds are sprouting and we continue to sow and water and laugh. Because what else can you do when things go sour and you respond to being beat with a balloon by popping said balloon like a fiend?

I was reminded of the line in the song, "You make beautiful things, You make beautiful things out of the dust. You make beautiful things, You make beautiful things out of us."

Nothing More Than Feelings

I was re-reading past entries today and it struck me what a roller coaster that this all has been.

The "should we or shouldn't we" stage where we considered what it would consist of for us to adopt. Period. Learning about possible special needs and how it would be to live with them. How overwhelming those seemed.

The waiting. The busting hump to get paperwork finished, sealed, sent. Worrying if it would be approved.

The advice. Well-meaning. Annoying when you don't want to hear it. Coming from a variety of sources. Tuning my ears to hear The Truth. I am a positive person. A can-do person, so I tried to gather a good support group of a few people who were the same way. They have been my sanity. There are a lot of people who seem to relish negative drama. And are bursting at the seams to share that with you. I had to come to a place where I could distance myself from that kind of negativity. I literally met a woman who told me that adoption was the hardest thing that she had ever done and that she never thought that she would want to kill a child, but that was how she felt every night when she would tuck her adopted son into bed. I was horrified and couldn't imagine feeling that way. Ever. And you know what? I haven't.

The traveling. So wonderful. So difficult. Because not only was I away from my comfort zone, but I was doing something decidedly difficult. So blessed with new friends, who I now miss.

The homecoming. The "Oh no! What have we done? Will things ever be good again?"

The becoming. The becoming of a family. The becoming of a child from a survivor to a thriver. The cost that this process exacts from all who come in contact. The rewards it brings.

And throughout all of this The Emotions. The thrill. The anguish. The faith. The laughter. The tears. This, Dear Readers, is LIFE. The "more abundant" kind.

Here is to a great week. A week of more highs than lows. A week to grow in confidence. A week to listen to the Holy Spirit's guidance. A week to fight the demons. And a week to love.

Amen.

You've Got Your Problems, I've Got Mine

School is our Waterloo.

I mean, all these pieces are just falling into place crazy good when it comes to....well, ANYWHERE but school. 

I have a decent amount of frustration with the situation, but I am not one to spread tales via a platform that anyone in the world can see, because I understand we are all learning and so I will give them grace. Even though a tantrum might be more satisfying. 

One thing I have noticed about the professionals, they are quick to overlook what the experts have to say. I mean, you can go to school until you have enough initials after your name that it looks like the periodic table of elements and that makes you a professional, but you are not the expert on someone else's life and situation. They are. 

I can say that I am the expert on what Daniel is like, so when people who see one aspect of him throw theories around, it bugs me. Well, it more than bugs me, but I am trying to take the high road. 

And you know what I realized tonight? We all have a back story. Very few people have optimum circumstances. Everyone is screwed up about something. So back off. Back off the judgements. Back off the gossiping. Back off the prejudice. 

Back off my son. 

Because, let's be honest, he probably has a better reason for his behavior than you do. 

And he is moving on. Working through things. Living his life, like it was dealt. 

I kept him home today and it was bliss.

So there.

Let Me Elaborate

Ok, so if you know me, you know that I am regretting the negative slant on my last post. I debated about taking it down, but decided to leave it up because it is a part of what life is like. A small part.

There is a part of me that is thankful for the meltdown following the skype call because it showed me the hurt that he has. Most people who interact with Daniel and come away thinking nothing besides that he is funny and happy.

But God has been giving me glimpses of the heart within.

While I was at the orphanage I thought that it was pretty nice, but as I see this little child processing, or trying to, after living that way, it makes me realize that not all was as it seemed. And really, you can have the nicest place in the world, but all it takes is one bad person to make it hellish.

I, in no way, want to give any impression that we are not happy. Because we really are. There is such a primal thrill in watching the cogs slip into place. Watching Wyatt and Daniel doing their version of sign language and giggling together. The improvements that we are having at school. He is learning to color and draw, which may seem very simple, but I believe is very important. He made it through Sunday school by himself. So many leaps forward.

When we were at the fall festival this last weekend, he did amazingly well. We ran into some friends and their boys were rough housing with each other. Daniel didn't try to get into the fracas, but he did sock me in the thigh. It didn't hurt, but it goes to show how affected he is by environment.

And tact. Oh, buddy. We have a ways to go. Haha. I can only hope that people understand that he had never been exposed to people who look much different from him and so when he sees someone who is, he is going to remark. I am looking forward to having more English and being able to explain that God has made people different, for example Daniel is short.  Ay yi yi. That being said, he isn't mean spirited when he makes his observations, he is innocent and there is something refreshing about that. (Even though I want to make excuses and it embarrasses me to death.)

So, Readers, it truly is an adventure. Ups and downs. And God teaching me patience in a way I didn't know existed. The sweets are so much sweeter. The worst day here is better than his best day when we were in Ukraine. The small triumphs are spectacular. The personality emerges and I discover that I have a little boy who likes music and hates homework, well, pretty much any work, but is learning to do it anyway. It is hard to say what other preferences that he has because he is constantly in flux trying to discover just who this Daniel Sponseller is, just what he likes.

And it is beautiful. And messy. And painful. And wondrous.

And a little side note: without going into detail, the call from school yesterday was a misunderstanding. It is sad to me that it happened, but has shown me that those who love Daniel need to rally around and give him the confidence to sail through the rough seas of prejudice and misunderstanding when they come. Because they will.

Please pray for that.

I will close with something that I remember my tenth grade history teacher told me. She said that when she was having to correct her son she would think to herself, "Thank God for strong willed children, for they will not be easily swayed."

Amen.

A Week in the Life

So, the most common question I get is, "How is it going? How is everyone adjusting?"

Adjustment is like cleaning out your craft closet. It is going to look worse before it gets better. And that is the truth. That and the fact that I am going to lie to you. Because you probably don't really want to hear the hairy part. Instead of telling you how I feel sometimes, I will show you a picture, but they are worth a thousand words. (look closely at my eyes)

Hahaha.

In the interest of being open about what it is really like, I decided to give you a play by play of last week. Simply the facts.

• Monday: Good day at school. Read this blog by Jen Hatmaker. It outlines what the first year is supposed to look like, or generally does end up looking like. Felt cheated when I saw that there was supposed to be a honeymoon period. Maybe we can save up and take one on our tenth anniversary.
• Tuesday: Good day at school. Skyped with his friend who was adopted a year ago. Got off of Skype and REGRESSED. Big time. Rocking. Fits. Crying. Delight.
• Wednesday: Hid under the teacher's desk at school (see above as to why). Refused to come out until I spoke on the phone with him. Came out... He should have stayed under the desk. Enough said.
• Thursday: Rough day at school. Ended up in the principal's office playing on an ipad.
• Friday: you know what? I am done enumerating. 
• Saturday: went to Johnny Appleseed Festival. Good times. 

And now it is Monday and I have been called by the school. And it breaks my heart. And the school has no power over him. And I feel like I should go get him but the school said no and I have a headache. 

Boo. 

Moral of the story: we will hold off on the skype for awhile. 

What Home Does

After my post last night I thought that you might enjoy seeing. Seeing what a difference home makes. Seeing what a difference love makes. Even in a short period of time.

Bind Us

The act of creating a family through adoption isn't natural. The mashing together of people from vastly different backgrounds and cultures goes against every biological impulse that we supposedly have.

Yet, it happens. Across borders. Across species. Like the mama dog who adopted a litter of baby tigers. 

And that is interesting to me. Because it shows that, while it doesn't make sense, it works. That the spark of The Divine in us is greater than biology. 

Why does it work? According to scientists we bond with our young because they look like us, smell like us. These are the ways that babies can ensure their survival. 

And yet thousands of families cross borders to pick a child that doesn't look like them. That certainly doesn't smell of Johnson and Johnson. 

When I think of that, I really do question the idea of destiny. Because why else would that happen?

The things that God worked out to show Daniel to us. That opened our hearts to him. That exposed him to God. The resilience that this child seemingly has. To lose everything. But find new things. To bravely forge a new path for himself without the benefit of a stable foundation. I have seen much more educated, well adjusted people struggle with it so much more. 

And yet our little Peter Pan carves out his place. Not a replacement for anyone or anything but something completely new. A fighter that wants to be a lover. That makes a bed for the dog, that up until two weeks ago, he was terrified of. And prays over each of his siblings and wants to tuck them in. That loves the garage sale floral comforter that I tossed over him tonight. No complaints about it being girly. 

The desire to be a son. But the conditioning of being the outsider. The stone that the builders rejected. 

The fervent prayer and fevered desire to be enough of a family. To make the connections and relationships instantaneous. That the family will accept him. Bolster him. That he may need more than the natural born Sponsellers. For awhile? Forever? God knows. 

The insecurity that I feel. Can I be enough? Show God's love enough? To make up in some way, to give confidence in the face of the ultimate rejection--that led to the ultimate acceptance. 

I know we aren't there. But we are closer than we were. Home six weeks tonight. 

A month and a half in the US. 

The other kids weary of his energy. Of his struggle to relate to children who aren't merely surviving. 

Me seeing. God opening my eyes to the energy and showing me that it isn't naughty. That it is adrenaline. Fear. 

Bind us together, Lord, with chains that cannot be broken. Bind us together with love. 

Because mine will never be enough. 

Simple Graces

Look at me. Being all prolific. Two posts in as many days.

I have been thinking about things that I am thankful for.

There are really too many to list, but here are some of my top faves.

• A mama who came over every morning for two weeks to help me herd cats get the kids ready for school.
• An anonymous benefactor who ordered a shipment of tooth boxes to be sent to a certain Claire Sponseller. (Thanks, whomever you are. She loves them and has decorated her bed with them.)
• A sister who went with me to the pool every night for a week, before it closed for the summer, so that the kids could get their wiggles out.
• Finding a wonderful doctor that can address ALL of Daniel's needs. And she is ten minutes away. Instead of three hours.
• A little boy who says "I love you" to people. Even when he is being an absolute stinker.
• A tender hearted teacher for said little boy.
• Faithful friends who have walked this road before us.
• A job that is flexible.
• A husband who I adore.
• A little girl who wants to be on the Lego team who has never played with Legos.
• Another little girl with the prettiest curly hair who conned me into straightening it this morning.
• A little boy who "clipped down" at school today, but pointed out that he didn't feel bad about it, so I shouldn't either. Who can argue with that logic?

To See and Be Seen

Things have begun settling into somewhat of a routine in the Sponseller home. I haven't posted as many updates as I would like, mostly because things are changing every day. Every time we have a good day it seems to eclipse every other good day that we have had. Meaning: things are getting better and better.

Over the last several days, the idea of the importance of being seen has been stirring in my mind.

How us seeing an image of Daniel, long before we met him, set events in motion that have eternal reach.

This was the first picture that I saw of Daniel. And, try as I might, I couldn't get him out of my mind. I told my other kids the story of the little boy in Ukraine. We prayed for him at night. There was just something about that face... Something that stuck with us.

Now, of course, Daniel is at home. With us. Asleep in the room above mine. In his fire truck pajamas.

Tonight when he was getting ready for bed I just looked at him and thought how precious he is. How he already is such a part of our entire family. 

Sure, sometimes he is a handful. No doubt. He is an eight year old boy. Enough said. 

And then I thought of all the other children I saw. Sasha, Katja, Anya, Peter, Andrew, Igor, Vika. Names. With worlds connected to them. Children who need love.

Oh, tonight they weigh on my heart.

What comforts me is knowing that God sees these children right now. As they slumber. As they play. As they dream. As they cry. And He is Father to them. And He is writing His name on their hearts.

And God sees you. Where you are.

I am reminded of the passage where Hagar is fleeing Sarah and Abraham with her son Ishmael. She is dying in the desert. And the scripture says that "God SAW her." He told her that things would be hard, but that He would bless her and that He would bless her son. He saw her.

And that made all the difference.

Maybe you can make all the difference to these children.  

Pray. Share pictures. 

See these children. Not as unwanted, but as treasures of the King.

Bananas, Grapes, French Fries and NYET SHKOLA!

School started last week and my littles merrily skipped off.

On Monday, that is.

Daniel came home, thrilled to see me. "Mama! I missed you! I miss Grace! I miss Claire! I miss Wyatt! I miss Papa! I miss Grandma! I miss Jenny!" 

It is rough for a kid who just found his place to willingly leave it everyday.

Tuesday rolled around and with it rolled the tide of trouble that comes when little Amerikranian boys didn't realize that they would ever have to go back.

He is not bad or mean. He is disruptive.

Make the children laugh.

Teach them Russian.

Touch everything.

Disruptive.

And although I had told the principal that he would act like a two year old, I think it came as a surprise to her that I was spot-on.

And, of course, I worry. Because that is what mothers do.

I sought advice. One friend told me to pull him out for a few months or at least wean him into the day. Another recommended homeschooling. And as much soul searching as I have done, hoping to find one shred of a homeschooling mother inside of me, it is not there.

On Wednesday I went to school and sat with him for three hours. I had to hold him twice, but other than that he really did very well. I sat with him and explained what was being taught to him.

He really is so much smarter than anyone has ever given him credit for. The children were supposed to write their names on white boards. I have shown Daniel his name over and over but he has never expressed any desire to write it, so I wrote "Dan" because, let's face it, "Daniel" is harder. I figured he could trace what I had written. Instead he looked at the name plate that the teacher had written for him and put on his desk and...well, I will let you see what he did...

Not shabby.

Thursday Daniel had his first pediatrician appointment. He is healthy. Just small. He has lost weight since being off some of his medications and that has at least given him a healthy BMI.

He went back to school after the doctor appointment and did well.

By Friday, he was a little more used to the routine, but still having some issues. Not sure what, but when his teacher brought him to the car and said, "I will see you tomorrow!" and I said, "Tomorrow is Saturday." She said, "Hallelujah!"  ...so I am guessing that she was as ready for the week to be done as he was. 

Thankfully, the other three had a much smoother week.

Grace is in fourth! (my baby!!!), Claire is in first and Wyatt is in kindergarten.

Grace is miffed by the personality survey that I sent back to the school. Apparently me saying that praise is a good motivator means I don't really know her. I don't know what she wanted me to put...Maybe I should have said "fifty dollar bills."

Claire has a loose tooth. And she has been saving it for weeks. Her big plan was to lose it at school and get one of those nifty tooth necklaces to bring it home in. They are currently out of stock in her class room and so her tooth still dangles. By a thread. It flips when she talks. I am hoping they get those tooth necklaces back soon. If they have been caboshed due to budget cuts, I say that we all ok a referendum to pitch in a little money to give kiddos a cheap thrill.

Wyatt is in kindergarten. And I haven't had much of an opportunity to properly mourn it. I am happy to say that he is still a mama's boy, even though I ditched him for much of the summer. Sunday night before school started he told me he was scared to go to kindergarten. I asked why and, although I am not fully clear, I think it has something to do with girls.

Another struggle that this past week brought was food issues. We have constantly had some small struggles but with everything else, this last week was worse.

What Daniel will eat is a moving target. One day all he will want is eggs. The next the mere mention of an egg has him flipping out.

There are three things that Daniel will eat, non-stop, as far as I have observed: Bananas, grapes (green), and french fries. At least the first two are healthy and I can substitute sweet potatoes on the last one. It was my vision to do his future bride a favor and make sure that he would not be a picky eater. It is still my hope, but it is somewhat fading.

This morning while doing some reading, God showed me that His grace is like wind. It will come. And it will change things.

So, I will hold on to that truth, Readers, as I am off to the grocery to raid the produce section.

Watch Out!

We had a really good day downtown. Hear Care Connections, a great NFP that helps people get hearing aids, held their second annual Lend Me Your Ears walk-a-thon. 

It seemed really well attended and it was a perfect day to be out. 

In other news, Starry, the mascot from our Christian radio station, may or may not now have a rational or irrational fear of little boys with Russian accents. Thank goodness it is a padded costume. I am sure that it lessened the gut punch that was distributed after a well-meaning hug. 

What can you do? 

Laugh. 

Driving in the car on the way home, Gracie decided to fill us in on what she wants for her birthday. Items include a hamster and a pocket knife. 

Garth told her that if she can remember to feed the dog that it will be something he considers. 

I.E. I am pretty sure we are never getting a hamster. 

He told her that she could have one when she moves to grandma's house. 

Another argument ensued in heavily accented English about how Daniel wants to be the one to move to grandma's house. 

Loving my life!

Best. Day. Yet.

I decided that this post is going to be dedicated to telling how to get on with life. Or at least advice that I am trying to follow.

And, of course, I am the expert, having finally had one Really Good Day.

Hurrah!

Without further ado, I will commence with the dispensing of wisdom.

• Ask for help. Everyone says they want to help you. Give them a chance to bless you, it will bless them and allow them to forever be a part of your story.
• Take showers. Even if it is two minutes while someone is banging on the door.
• Wear eyeliner. Well applied eyeliner will accentuate the dark circles under your eyes and make you look like a rock star.
• Wear crazy earrings. They will detract from the aforementioned eyes. And you will know that your ears look good, even if you are wearing your pajamas.
• Kiss your kids. Tickle them. Enjoy them. Even if it is only for two minutes while someone is banging on the door.

Happy Birthday To You, You Live in a Zoo

Today was my birthday. 32.

I have to say that throughout the day the Jim Gaffigan schtick about "It's my birthday, why do I have to wear pants?" kept running through my head. I think that most of us have this expectation that on our birthday the world acknowledges our greatness and we shouldn't have to lift a finger. And although I wouldn't come out and put it that way, it sure would have been nice. Haha.

My husband is gone, so no singing, no presents from the kids, little/no consideration from the kids. And certainly NONE from the Blue-Eyed One. He really has no idea what a birthday is and he sure didn't learn today.

In the spirit of making me feel special, Claire followed me around all day singing (in various voices, ranging from her own to the Chipmunks) Happy Birthday. But not the traditional one. Oh no. The one befitting my circumstance; "Happy Birthday to you, you live in a zoo, you look like a monkey and you smell like one, too." How apropos.

I took Daniel to school to get started with the registration. I had been kind of conflicted about what to do, but this morning I woke up with a very clear answer, so off I went. He is very excited and I am hoping that it works out well. He will be in an ELL (English Language Learner) program at a different school from the Brown-Eyed Ones.

It is funny, because really, I can say, that Daniel did very well today. Day three without a nap and fairly good behavior, but again, it was my birthday and so his behavior wasn't quite up to my Birthday Queen standards. I am sure that tomorrow will be better. (My perspective, that is.)

Tomorrow also marks the day that we will cut back another dose of his tranquilizer. Just to clarify: he is not on them because of any intrinsic issue, it was crowd control back at the orphanage. In my opinion he is much better off of them. Happier. He gets grumpy when he is tired and being on tranquilizers three times a day is not energy inducing.

I think that God's grace for this moment is writing this blog. When I am in the thick of things, I am always thinking about how I might describe it in the most positive terms and that helps me have a more positive perspective.

Because sometimes things really stink.

It stinks that I have a beautiful little boy that struggles as a result of a lifetime of selfishness on the part of the adults who were supposed to care for him.

It stinks that my house has not been peaceful since he stepped foot in it.

It stinks that I have spent a sum total of two days with my husband during the last 30.

It stinks!

But in the midst of all the stink, God is faithful and little moments of the beauty to come manifest. 

Especially at bedtime.

When I first got Daniel, bedtime was a traumatic nightmare. Screaming. Pushing his bed against the wall so I could have him between my body and the wall so he would feel secure. Hours of him fighting. Hours of him rocking until he would pass out from exhaustion.

Now bedtime is an oasis. I give him a bath and towel him off. He smells like coconut instead of orphanage funk. He styles his hair in the mirror. He air boxes like a pro when I wrap the towel around his waist. We go to his room. We look at his picture book from the orphanage and he tells me again that we need to find a home for Sasha Pastov. We pray. Then we snuggle. Peace. His little hand, cool from the shower, touches my face, my hair, my arm. He is learning that I am the mama that won't clock out after six hours. That I will be there. At night. In the morning.

And he rocks.

And then he stops and snuggles into me.

And looks at me.

Until he closes his eyes and falls asleep.

(Sasha Pastov is the little boy on the left)

Cha-cha

Becoming

I would imagine what it would be like when we brought Daniel home. I figured if I imagined that it would be horrible that I would be pleasantly surprised (doesn't that sound awful?!)

It hasn't been horrible.

It has been hard.

Very hard.

And good.

Very good.

The physical demands on my body are almost overwhelming. I realized yesterday that I hadn't taken a shower since Monday. Delicious.

I lay down to sleep and my joints and muscles scream after a day of dealing with Daniel. Picking him up. Holding him while he goes through detox from the psychotropic drugs that they were feeding him (and all the other children in his orphanage) three times a day. We are weaning off of them gently. It is crazy that he begs for them as I cut doses.

Being his mother is a whole different ball of wax than being Grace, Claire and Wyatt's mommy. There is an element that is pride related. I have always had the children that people compliment. Now I have the little boy that splashes a girl at the zoo and earns glares from mothers. I can say I am hereby ashamed of the times that I have made judgements about other peoples children or parenting skills. Some people are genuinely horrible parents, no doubt, but some are just in over their heads. And right now that is me.

And then I lay down with him and he traces the lines of my face with his little fingers and tucks me in just right and then rocks himself to sleep. Which the first time I saw broke my heart, but it really is soothing. I was with him last night until he fell asleep and he almost had be asleep too with his rhythmic rocking. And then he stopped. And I was like, "What is the deal?!" and he was asleep.

He is kind with the other kids. I mean, typical sibling things, he isn't a saint, but neither are the other three.

Nothing matters to him. There is nothing that can be taken away that will make him repentant if he is being naughty. The biggest punishment is making him sit in my lap when he wants to make trouble.

He asks to go back to the orphanage. This does not make me feel bad at all. It is perfectly understandable; it was his home. It was predictable.

He flipped out after talking with one of his old friends who was adopted last year. I think it scared him that she couldn't speak Russian anymore.

He now uses some English words, "Let's go!" "Doctor!" "Mommy!" Little by little.


He knows that he is changing. And that is exciting and scary for him.

He is becoming Daniel Sponseller.

Home boy

Had another really good day. 

A couple of mini meltdowns that if I hadn't experienced much worse with this child might have phased me.

He is scared. 

Of cars. Of dogs. Of warm water. Of rubber snakes. Of black beans.

But gradually I can see him gaining confidence. 

Picking the beans out. Riding in the convertible. Petting the dogs. Trying to scare me with the snake. Taking a shower without screaming like we are giving him an acid bath. 

And these may seem like small things but these small things are God working. Like He has been all along.