tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22143808393392955452023-11-16T09:34:04.605-08:00The Shoaf Family Adoption StoryLana Shoafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01093055995202178017noreply@blogger.comBlogger20125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2214380839339295545.post-20950218956018840362017-10-01T18:07:00.000-07:002017-10-01T18:18:30.414-07:00A Match!June 16, 2015<br />
<br />
I threw on my green camp staff T-shirt and khaki’s and headed past cabins 13 and 14. I volunteered each summer at this Laurel Mountain bible-sport camp while my kids sleep in bunks, eat camp food, and sing and chant until they lose their voices.<br />
<br />
I saw Jackson on my way into breakfast and gave him a high-five.<br />
<br />
He was wearing his Roman red T-shirt, with a number three on the back symbolizing the camp’s motto, “God first, others second, I’m third.” They compete all week against the blue Galatians through various sports and activities, each scoring points for the Romans. They love setting goals and winning and I love watching them learn to praise God whether they win or lose.<br />
<br />
On this day, I sorted mail, tracked awards, restocked the camp store shelves and wondered when we would hear from our adoption agency.<br />
<br />
Three weeks prior, they told us our next contact would be a match…the name of a boy or girl (or sibling group!) they felt was a good fit for our family.<br />
<br />
I was nervous.<br />
<br />
The days had passed and I grew restless, but vowed to allow everything to play out in the Lord’s timing. I wasn’t sure what to expect or what emotions I would feel. Tim stayed back home, working long hours during his peak season while we were at camp. Our conversations apart focused on the kids, but always brushed the topic of our awaited email.<br />
<br />
I took a break from my desk that day to check my phone and saw an email from our adoption agency! My heart skipped a beat as I opened the short message asking me to call our social worker.<br />
<br />
“Can I step in the back room and make a call?” I asked the office staff. “...to our adoption agency. I think this might be the call I’ve been waiting for!” my voice shook a little in my excitement and they were quick to excuse me.<br />
<br />
When the social worker answered, she confirmed she had our match….<br />
<br />
"A boy! A healthy four-year-old…no siblings….with a name of 'G-o-d-f-r-e-y, Godfrey'.”<br />
<br />
I wrote the brief information on a scrap piece of paper with shaky handwriting.<br />
<br />
She said she would send a photo and his health records in the next few minutes and asked if I had any questions.<br />
<br />
I couldn’t speak.<br />
<br />
I only cried…consumed by relief, wonder, and awe of the weight the information written on the scratch paper in front of me held.<br />
<br />
I apologized and said, “No questions now….just overwhelmed by this moment.”<br />
<br />
She assured me that crying at this point was a good thing and was excited to be the bearer of this wonderful news. She went on to explain that we had a period of time to look over his file and decide if we would accept this match. She said goodbye on the phone and I waited for the email to come through.<br />
<br />
This is what we had waited for….a name and a face. After our match with Edmond and Edina fell through, praying forward was tough without a name and a face. I had his name, (an interesting choice for an African first name, I remembered thinking). And his face was coming soon in an email!<br />
<br />
In the meantime, the office girls had gathered around me, crying with joy right alongside me and surrounding me for a prayer of thanks.<br />
<br />
We said “amen” and a notification dinged on my phone.<br />
<br />
The email with a photo was one click away.<br />
<br />
I read through initial information and my hands shook as I opened the attachment with his photo.<br />
<br />
He was hanging on monkey bars with a goofy grin, bald head, and a red T-shirt.<br />
<br />
Tears came again and I laughed out loud.<br />
<br />
The joy that overflowed in my heart that moment, I will never be able to explain. It is so different from discovering the pregnancy of a biological child…so completely different, so special, and exhilarating in a unique way.<br />
<br />
Then the camp director’s wife leaned over my shoulder and asked, “How did he get a camp T-shirt?”<br />
<br />
“What?” I was clearly confused.<br />
<br />
“Look!” she was gaining excitement, “His shirt says, ‘I am third’….right?”<br />
<br />
I zoomed in on the photo.<br />
<br />
It was true. In large, wrinkled letters his shirt shouted, "I am third," with the same motto written in a Spanish subtitle, “Yo soy el tercero.”<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNJtw7IUDZPLktV1p77lCgs8Jd_4ECttzIG7PzLP6CTpQwnrs-NXl2Zy4qyyufElK9qmj-yUimHe7uiKIzaqK-CGvIpG2eZIsIzxFaRg1yMul0d5Zck4Ten9eT6PXWS2x3I5VIeur9AzZj/s1600/Match+Photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNJtw7IUDZPLktV1p77lCgs8Jd_4ECttzIG7PzLP6CTpQwnrs-NXl2Zy4qyyufElK9qmj-yUimHe7uiKIzaqK-CGvIpG2eZIsIzxFaRg1yMul0d5Zck4Ten9eT6PXWS2x3I5VIeur9AzZj/s320/Match+Photo.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Goosebumps covered my arms…<br />
<br />
“And he’s Roman Red! It’s red!” she pointed out. “You don’t even have to think about this one, Lana! He belongs with you!”<br />
<br />
And he did. His red “camp” shirt was a God wink and an indicator that we could follow through with confidence, knowing this little boy with a name that didn’t yet roll off my tongue, “Godfrey,” belonged with us.<br />
<br />
For the rest of the term, as I folded "I am third" T-shirts in the camp store, I beamed.<br />
<br />
Monumental moments for a family seem a lot less intimidating when they come with clarity. Confidence in our match grew. Tim and I talked long and hard, bewildered by the "camp T-shirt" (Which we later discovered wasn't related to the camp, but sure did send a strong message with its slogan!) We prayed several days and then called our social worker with confirmation to accept the match.<br />
<br />
Godfrey would be Shoaf #5!<br />
<br />
We had a face and a name. We began praying for the day we could bring this “Godfrey” to our home as one of us….a Shoaf, a growing child of God, and a red Roman!<br />
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Lana Shoafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01093055995202178017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2214380839339295545.post-41816076815198304462017-09-27T07:47:00.001-07:002017-10-01T18:16:31.261-07:00Tim's Experience in Africa and Moving Forward<div class="MsoNormal">
(Post written from events in March 2014 through May 2015)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Well, Tim flew over the ocean and the desert before landing
in Uganda where he experienced chapatti, boda-bodas, and the hug of an orphan.
He visited 6 orphanages or homes for children, all as different as their
funders and managers.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He remembered the
names of orphans like Barbara and Freddy, but wasn’t convinced we could trust
the international adoption process.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
International adoption is a very tricky thing.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After his time in Africa, Tim didn’t feel so duped by the mishandling
of funds with Edmond and Edina in Ghana. While his feet were on the ground, he
understood how easily American dollars could disappear.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Uganda made Tim more cautious.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
During his visit, he saw a lot. He experienced the foster
and orphan care system in light of how each organization used US dollars. He
visited orphan group homes with a stench so potent he couldn’t walk in the
room, let alone sleep in it as those children did night after night. He also visited
an orphanage with competent Ugandan staff and floors clean enough to eat from. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He saw the spectrum of
orphan care in Uganda and he began to pray.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I prayed too. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After a few weeks, Tim felt comfortable with only one
option…explore the one home he visited owned and run by Americans. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The heart of this home was family and the kids enjoyed
spiritual growth through intentional teaching, plenty of love from Ugandan
staff, and exposure to Americans through volunteer “aunties” serving as nurses,
cuddlers, and playmates. As amazing as the facility functioned, the founder
believed in a family for each child…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
…a Ugandan family first…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
…a Ugandan foster family second…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
…and international adoption third.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We appreciated the value placed on keeping kids close to
family and home, but saw their real need for families to adopt those without
kin or an available bed at the relatively few foster homes available in Uganda
at the time.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We decided to contact the agency connected to the orphanage.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A prayer for open doors to orphan care became our anthem.
Closed doors in Uganda were welcome too. We only wanted what God intended for
our family and didn’t want to force anything. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We applied with the organization. We trained, we signed
paperwork, we signed more paperwork, were subject to doctor’s approval on a few
occasions and finally qualified for an interview with the facilitator
state-side. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And the meeting wasn’t cake and party balloons.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The gentlemen explored many aspects of our family, even
interviewed our kids, before emphasizing the expectation of the families they
approve. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Those were very high. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So high, in fact, that we were unsure at the completion of
the interview if we would pass to the next step. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We waited about three weeks for results of our interview,
praying the whole time. We had peace in the process, knowing the door could
open or close. We were okay with whatever God had for us and were trusting he
could work in many ways to open up orphan care for us.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Finally the call came….approval for international adoption!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I don’t think it was our biological children, freshly
showered and shiny-faced, answering the state-side facilitator’s questions. I
don’t think it was our education or income. I don’t think it was even our
theology or lifestyle. I think what made
this facilitator most comfortable with us was hearing my husband pray. A short
closing prayer confirmed my leader’s heart for family and orphan care with an
inspiring reliance on God. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
And that qualified us.<o:p></o:p></div>
Lana Shoafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01093055995202178017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2214380839339295545.post-39843914654401934722014-03-08T04:54:00.000-08:002014-03-08T04:54:26.881-08:00The Next Big Step: Over the OceanI can't even make this stuff up, folks. God continues to impress us with His creativity in revealing our part in orphan care. Just when I was feeling hopeless because of the roadblock in Ghana, God stepped in and said, "Trust me! I got this, just wait and watch." Something tells me, His plan is much greater than my wildest hopes and dreams (and you'll soon see, I'm a pretty big dreamer).<br />
<br />
Even before I published our "<a href="http://shoafadoptionstory.blogspot.com/2014/01/a-fearful-twist-demanding-more-faith.html">Unexpected, Sad Twist</a>" post, Tim focused on trying to fix our predicament. He plunged in with determined level-headedness (which I obviously lacked!) and began making phone calls in efforts to find our footing in the turbulent world of international adoption.<br />
<br />
One phone call landed a stranger named Mike on the line. I use the term "stranger" loosely, because although we hadn't talked to or met Mike, he is a father/father-in-law to our dear "small groupies" with whom we have done a lot of life (laughter <i>and </i>tears) over the past seven years. In fact, when we began this process last summer, they willingly offered his name as an adoption resource.<br />
<br />
Well, Tim remembered their suggestion and Mike's name and number made the short list. Awe, who am I kidding, we only had one list...and it was pretty short. We felt paralyzed in our adoption process. After losing a seemingly <i>perfect</i> match, we didn't know who to trust or where to turn. We thought maybe Mike would know.<br />
<br />
So, Tim conversed with Mike for about 45 minutes (that's always good, right?) and when he hung up, I looked at him with eyes that pleaded, "Tell me how he's going to fix this!" and Tim just scratched his head.<br />
<br />
"Well," he began with something like, "Mike is a good listener, has a heart for African orphans, and it sounds like he knows African adoptions can be tricky."<br />
<br />
"And..." I leaned in, waiting to hear what was next in our "Shoaf Family Adoption Story" and ultimately revealing my attitude of ridiculous optimism that leads me into all sorts of interesting predicaments.<br />
<br />
"That's it." Tim ended and turned away with his own mantra of hard-core realism that keeps him out of my said predicaments.<br />
<br />
Of course, I considered his response anti-climactic. Optimists hit walls harder than realists and it appeared I just ran into yet another. Our reality in adoption settled in deeper. We were stuck.<br />
<br />
A few days later, we told our family the bad news and a few days after that, I posted here. Tim's sister and brother-in-law came over for dinner the following week and asked if Tim made any progress in his phone efforts. He told them about his conversation with Mike and then butchered Mike's organization name enough to warrant retrieving Mike's contact info. When he did, he mentioned a website with the agency's name that prompted me to bring out the laptop and explore.<br />
<br />
The agency's impressive website lead me to a blog entry (and y'all can imagine I'm a sucker for blogs!), written by Mike about a recent trip he had taken to Uganda. Yes, Mike has a passion for Ugandan orphans. I could feel it in his post and saw photos of the dark faces he had touched.<br />
<br />
Then, my face lit up when I read the description of Mike's endeavor's in Africa. Along with affirmations of his passion and vision, the website stated clear plans for Mike to make another trip to Africa in March of 2014.<br />
<br />
March of 2014 was just around the corner (at that point), and my wheels began to turn. Didn't Tim want to learn more about the credibility of the African adoption systems? Wasn't Tim the one who began this whole journey, passionate to participate in orphan care? Didn't Tim run a business offering a flexible schedule during March of 2014?!?!?<br />
<br />
Are you connecting the dots? So I totally blurted out what would only come from the mouth of a ridiculous optimist, unafraid to dream big and tell the whole world about it, "Tim, HE IS GOING TO UGANDA IN MARCH!"<br />
<br />
"Yeah?" Tim tried to curb my enthusiasm. He already knew what I was going to say and wanted to soften the blow of hitting yet another wall.<br />
<br />
"YOU SHOULD GO WITH HIM!"<br />
<br />
Tim halted my exclamation with a realists view that this man, Mike, probably didn't want to lug a globetrotting stranger around Africa and besides, flying over the ocean seemed too risky for a person who doesn't even love to fly over land. (I could launch into a whole different post about this, but I'll save it.)<br />
<br />
In the end, all at the table agreed, it <i>was </i>perfect timing and witnessing African orphanages first hand may curb our newfound distrust of orphanage directors. Then there were sad, wishful sighs, and we changed the subject.<br />
<br />
I didn't forget about my idea, but Tim's reaction convinced me the plan <i>was </i>a little ridiculous.<br />
<br />
So, you can imagine my surprise a few days later when Tim told me after work that he had indeed called Mike to inquire about his trip to Africa as mentioned on his agency's webpage. The news took me by surprise! It wasn't like Tim to go out on a limb with a dreamy, unrealistic idea.<br />
<br />
"...and?" I questioned with confusion.<br />
<br />
"Well, first I just asked him if he was going. He confirmed his plans to head to Uganda in March, so I asked him what he would be doing there." Tim explained.<br />
<br />
"He seems very organized and ran through a whole list of places and people to visit on his agenda. He is pretty much going to set up contacts for their agency's international adoption program that will be <a href="http://adoption.state.gov/hague_convention.php">Hague accredited</a> in a few months."<br />
<br />
This seemed too perfect, "...and!" I urged with a little too much anticipation.<br />
<br />
"Then I told him that my crazy-dreamer wife thought I should ask him to ride along on his trip. I threw in some comments about knowing he may well have a team in place and didn't want to be a burden and that I thought it seemed like a far-fetched idea but it didn't hurt to ask," Tim hurried. Were we really having this conversation? Ridiculousness is so out of character for Tim.<br />
<br />
"What'd he say? What'd he say?!?!" the suspense was killing me!<br />
<br />
Tim continued, "Well, he is going on this trip alone. He's traveled to Uganda twice in the last year and is quite comfortable with the contacts he's made there and confident to go by himself on this trip."<br />
<br />
My expression faded. "Well, that was anticlimactic," I thought to myself. Maybe Tim made the call to prove realism trumps ridiculous optimism. But then, Tim continued....smiling.<br />
<br />
"But...he said as much as he is comfortable going alone, his wife is <i>really</i> struggling with sending him all by himself. He wondered if God told us to ask about going on the trip and communicated that he would appreciate a companion, even if it was a stranger."<br />
<br />
"And then he flat out asked if I would like to travel to Africa."<br />
<br />
"What!?!?!?" did he just say what I thought he said?<br />
<br />
"I can go...er, well, I've been invited to go."<br />
<br />
And so a short discussion over whether or not we could actually plunge into this dream began. It seemed like a perfect opportunity for our adoption woes, but did Tim really want to go to Africa?<br />
<br />
You can imagine my adventurous and dream-filled ideas require a grounded man to maintain balance in our home. He is grounded in the sense that he is practical, realistic, and likes to stay on the ground. He doesn't have a lot of flying experience, and doesn't seek out adventures involving airplane rides. He is not against flying, he just doesn't promote it. Even when originally choosing to adopt from Africa, the plane trip made his "cons" list.<br />
<br />
Tim's wariness to fly doesn't even touch the impractical disadvantage of spending so much money on an exploratory trip while we work diligently to save money for adoption fees. We didn't have a lot of time to talk that night, but this was certainly a concern. Mike asked Tim to give him a yes or no within a week so they could get plans and plane tickets together if needed.<br />
<br />
Laying in bed that night, I remember thinking the trip would require a lot of discussion over the next week. It seemed as if God Himself invited Tim to go to Africa because of the way it all played out! How could he NOT go? Did God have something specific there for him? Something so special as to require a personal invitation? But how could Tim go, when leaving his family to fly to Africa "just to see what he could see" seemed extreme?<br />
<br />
Well, THE very next day, after our five minute chat between just the two of us about a whirlwind trip to Africa the night before, Tim took me out for lunch. We wanted to seriously discuss this trip and a lunch date without the kids' curious ears around seemed like the only opportunity.<br />
<br />
When he picked me up at work, he was on the phone in his truck and had a curious look on his face. Before he could even say hello, he pointed to the phone indicating he was taking a call. I closed the door and he turned the conversation on through his speakers so I could hear and immediately, I recognized the voice of a friend on the other end.<br />
<br />
A call from this friend was unordinary because he wasn't the "let's chat on the phone in the middle of the day" kind of friend and acknowledged this very thing as I settled into my seat. Then he went on to say that not only was it weird to be calling Tim in the middle of the day, but something bizarre had happened during the week prior that he and his wife could not ignore.<br />
<br />
He said they had money to donate and were just going to throw it in the plate at church on Sunday when they both felt God saying they should hold onto it...that someone would need it. He kept reiterating how strange it all was, that they both felt that way. Then he said they felt the money belonged to us as a gift and he would have it waiting for us if we wanted to accept it.<br />
<br />
Oh, and did I mention the amount was the approximate price of a plane ticket to Uganda?!?!?!<br />
<br />
I looked at Tim through tears.<br />
<br />
Wow.<br />
<br />
We hadn't even told our family (our kids even) that a trip to Uganda could be an option. We weren't sure if we had enough purpose or money to make that kind of trip happen. But this phone call, from this friend, on this day was almost as if God reached down and pushed Tim forward, saying, "Go."<br />
<br />
And so he is.<br />
<br />
My tears fell as a realization that God does have something for us. We still do not know what that something is. All we know is that Mr. "There's No Need to Travel the World" is feeling like he really needs to go to Uganda. And that Mrs. "Adventure Seeking, World Travel Loving, Dreamer" is totally fine letting her husband go without her on this one. In fact, I feel like Tim doing something uncomfortable swings the door wide open for God to speak into Him.<br />
<br />
That is my prayer.<br />
<br />
We have a feeling that on this trip to Africa, God will show Tim what kind of orphan care he has set aside for the Shoaf family. We don't know if that means adopting an orphan, helping in a different way there, or raising awareness here. We really aren't anticipating possible outcomes (Although when Tim was asking what souvenirs he should bring back for each of us, Josie asked for a bracelet and Jackson asked for a boy!), because we have a hunch God's going to inform us of our part in His timing. And we are totally okay with that.<br />
<br />
Please pray for Tim. Pray that he will hear God in Uganda. Pray that he will be protected physically. Pray that God would help Tim to see what He sees, to touch with the power and love of Christ, and to listen with the aid of the Holy Spirit. Pray for safety and sleep and for healing over Tim's nagging knee pain. Pray for orphans (keep Edmond and Edina on the list!) in Africa. I expect great things.<br />
<br />
I'm already more proud of my husband than I have ever been. This very grounded man is clearly learning that God's way is so much bigger than his way and his own preferences. He is excited to experience God's work in the lives of orphans. Even if that means he has to fly over an ocean to see it.<br />
<br />
Go, God!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />Lana Shoafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01093055995202178017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2214380839339295545.post-25937654428441026652014-02-18T15:22:00.000-08:002014-02-18T15:25:13.430-08:00ProcessingSitting in the middle of February, we find ourselves processing. I thought our mid-February processing would mean documents shuffling across the desk of a Ghanian lawyer, preparing for a day in court. I expected to schedule flights, pack luggage, and find babysitters for our kids at home so we could meet our new kiddos in Africa for the first time. But alas, God is asking us to process differently.<br />
<br />
The news of ending our adoption plans with Edmond and Edina warranted a reckoning with the fragility of international adoption. For Tim, this uncovered corruption brings new resolve to maintain integrity in our adoption process and ensure stability in the plan. Camping out in the fragile for a while has been my approach.<br />
<br />
After my last post here, phone calls, texts, and facebook messages acknowledged my broken heart. Individuals at work, at church, heck...even at Wal-Mart offered hugs that brought more tears. Sharing our story means sharing our pain. I've never been a fan of crying, but this whole adoption situation might change my crying philosophy!<br />
<br />
One particular epic cry moment happened two weeks ago at church. Tim missed church on account of (ANOTHER) Sunday morning snow. (He pushes snow for a living...more on that later.) That morning, I felt a deep nudge to share about our experience of loss with the church. Tim and I consider our church "family" and I wanted them to be informed. I had already posted here, and as a result, many people knew about our adoption process status, but other dear prayer warriors from church did not know this new disruption in our adoption plan.<br />
<br />
When sharing time came, I realized I wouldn't be able to share without tears, and if you know me, I don't do tears, so I decided I couldn't share. Not that day.<br />
<br />
However, as others shared, I conjured up a real business-like way to share our fallen-through adoption and convinced myself I could do it without crying. Well, my brain and my heart must have miscommunicated.<br />
<br />
I announced four words (real business-like) before I choked up and couldn't speak at all. I sank into my pew, shoulders heaving, trying my best at "silent sobbing" (either I'm a total newby or silent sobbing doesn't exist).<br />
<br />
And I sat, ugly crying in front of the entire congregation.<br />
<br />
Here's what I learned that morning about ugly crying in church...<br />
<br />
First, it's humiliating and ruins your make-up. However, you will quickly find reasons two through five far outweigh the woes of running mascara.<br />
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Second, unlike my first inclination with criers (RUN AWAY), many people possess the true gift of nurture. As I sat down that morning, unable to tell the whole story, church members rushed to my side. And then (more tears) I witnessed Sunday school teachers, family, and friends hold tight to my daughters, dealing with their own broken hearts. Dear, dear "family" embraced our struggle while the pastor and others prayed over our family. Nurturing people proved to me that transparency (even in the ugly crying form) gives them an opportunity to use a gift God granted for specific moments like this. (Thank you hugging, hand-holding, tissue givers...you know who you are!)<br />
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Third, sharing my pain opened the doors for others to show compassion. After the service, individuals from my church lined up to tell how they also felt loss. Tender stories, some from decades ago, came from men and women alike. Each one with an experience of loss and a promise that God is faithful. Compassion became a theme in every story, hug, and smile. Hurting hurts less when others cry too.<br />
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Fourth, my church is awesome. That Monday, and for many days to come, our family received cards. Lots of cards. They offered encouragement, prayer, and hope. You know when you go to church and people walk by, or even stop to chat and always ask, "How are you?" and you (and everyone else for that matter) say, "I'm good!"and then you go on your way and celebrate the friendliness of church-goers? Well, ever since my complete mess of tears in front of our church, people stop me and they want to know how I am...how I really am. And I tell them.<br />
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I tell them it is hard, but God is good and then I tell them why. Sometimes, what used to be a 6-second conversation turns to 10 minutes. And this, folks, is the church being the church, sharing pain and carrying it right alongside me so that the burden is a little lighter and the future seems a little brighter.<br />
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My church hasn't all of the sudden gotten awesome, it's always been amazing. This is just the first time I've exposed my heart to this extent. That Sunday morning, with my tears, my heart mouthed, "Help me." And they ran to answer my heart cry. They are marvelous people being used as the tender hands of God to wipe away my tears. I love them! I love God and his plan of believers living in community. If you don't have a church family, my ugly cry morning would strongly suggest you find one!<br />
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[And here's my shout out to <a href="http://www.firstmennonite.org/">First Menno</a>! I love living in community with you!]<br />
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Fifth, (last, but not least...probably the GREATEST) prayer works. Thanks to the thousands of prayer warriors checking in here and to my church family for praying! So many friends assure me that prayers continue to be offered up on behalf of Edmond and Edina. I won't be surprised to find them true Ghanian royalty someday because of the investments of prayer. People across the globe are depositing eternal pleas for their protection and prosperity! To tell you the truth, my prayers for them have taken on new urgency and fervor.<br />
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I know people are praying for us too and our journey to adopt because I can testify that God is up to something...BIG.<br />
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I can't wait to tell you about it.<br />
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But that testimony is for another post. I need a bit more processing before I confidently share how this part of the our journey nudges us into something greater in our quest to touch orphans for Christ. I'm not even sure what it looks like yet, but believe me, I am sitting on the edge of my seat!<br />
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But now, today, in this post, I can honestly say, "I am thankful for the process." The process contains valuable lessons built in to prepare us for the end result. Thank you, God, for this part of our story and for people who mirror your compassion. And thank you, God, for allowing me to camp out in the fragile and attain a better understanding of your tenderness and care. I love You and Your plan, even in the struggle.<br />
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Oh, and about the aforementioned snow: we prayed for God to provide financially for this adoption and Tim has pushed enough snow to add mountains to our adoption fund. So, sorry if you live in Indiana and hate snow, I may or may not have prayed in our snowpocalypse!<br />
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<br />Lana Shoafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01093055995202178017noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2214380839339295545.post-35985370759198182122014-01-27T07:49:00.001-08:002014-01-27T11:34:27.790-08:00An Unexpected, Sad TwistEvery award winning story contains an extraordinary, unexpected twist. Well, we've hit ours and it plays on our worst fear.<br />
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We hadn't heard much from our agency for about a month, so we decided we'd touch base with them after the holidays. Turns out, we didn't have to. They called us.<br />
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They wanted a formal discussion about the Ghana program in general. Yes, we could do that. We scheduled a call with them on the day we headed to Indianapolis for our fingerprinting appointment, necessary for international adoption.<br />
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Cradle of Hope had bad news.<br />
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In the preceding week, they discovered discriminatory evidence pointing to the corruption of the orphanage director on whom they relied for the entire Ghana program. The news devastated the agency and they wanted to inform all families in the program to see what kind of reaction it would generate. Our hearts sank into our stomachs. Was this really happening?<br />
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They told us to think and pray about what we might want to do going forward. We clicked "end" and both took a deep breath. What were we supposed to say? What were we supposed to do?<br />
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Moving forward with our adoption of Edmond and Edina meant likely more corruption, more money, and an uncertain outcome. The agency emphasized the breach of trust blew holes in the program's integrity in general. If he lied about one aspect, did he lie about how he acquired the orphans? Was he caring for them as advertised? Would he make good on future promises?<br />
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Terminating interaction with this corrupt director meant terminating our dream of including Edmond and Edina in our family. Tears came.<br />
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Angry tears. One man's corruption shattered the future of dozens of orphans and a few families like ours waiting to love them. The plight of orphans in the world took on a different shade that day. A dull, gray shade. Millions (yes, millions) of orphans never see the hope of a family because of corruption in their communities and in our world.<br />
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Sad tears. Spiritual investments on behalf of Edmond and Edina were in full swing. Hundreds of intimate prayers connected our souls to the plight of these two orphans. Severing our hopes of ever meeting the precious faces we invested so heavily in, tore my heart. Would I never squeeze Edmond's hand on my way into the grocery store just to say "I love you"? Would I never tell Edina a made-up "Princess Edina" story to help her settle down for sleep?<br />
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Uh. This is what a broken heart feels like.<br />
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Tim and I consistently prayed throughout our adoption process that honesty would prevail and corruption would have no place in welcoming an orphan into our family. This development was difficult to navigate. We really, really did not want to work with a corrupt man. But we really, really wanted Edmond and Edina to join our family. After some discussion, we decided that we would lean heavily on what the agency recommended for us. We have no experience with international adoption and they've had decades. If they thought we could manage a road of corruption, we may attempt it. If not, we would stop pursuing this route.<br />
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We called them about a week later to touch base. They asked what we were thinking. We told them, "We aren't even sure what to think." We asked them what they would do if they were us, lined up to adopt two kids from this orphanage?<br />
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They said, "Run."<br />
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They explained again that trust had been broken and moving forward could be unpredictable and precarious and my cost us unnecessarily only to be devastated in the end with empty arms.<br />
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It was decided. We would terminate our connection with that orphanage. They explained that Edmond and Edina would be removed from foster care without our support and placed back into the orphanage indefinitely.<br />
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I wanted a good-bye hug. I wanted closure. There was none.<br />
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After much thought I realized, in a way, I didn't have to say goodbye. My prayers before that day were heartfelt and heard (and I believe answered!). My prayers going forward would be just as effective. Although Edmond and Edina will likely never be in my direct care, I can spiritually continue to invest in them.<br />
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So I am. Praying for God to intervene in their lives. Ultimately praying that they will have a family. Praying for full bellies. Praying for the living word of God to sink into their hearts. Praying against trafficking. Praying against abuse. Praying for a hope and a future.<br />
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Tim and I talked about our part in all of this. Perhaps our very prayers against corruption uncovered the crooked ways of this orphanage director. Perhaps our prayers saved the futures of other would-be-orphans. I trust that this turn in events IS an answer to prayer.<br />
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A very hard answer.<br />
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Please, please, please pray for our family. When we told the kids, they were crushed. Through tears Jackson had to say, "I just thought Edmond was going to be my brother." We did too, bud. We did too.<br />
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We are all very, very sad.<br />
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Starting again seems daunting. But we will. Cradle of Hope has already suggested we move into their Uganda program. They even have a sibling set of three waiting to be adopted (they must think we are INSANE). However, we are hesitant to move forward with an agency associated with so much heartbreak. We have a few other connections with other agencies that are possibilities for adoption in other African countries. We are making those phone calls and trying to decide what is next for us. We need prayers for discernment and direction.<br />
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Since receiving this devastating news, a scenario plays out in my head over and over again and it brings my heart much hope. I see myself in that Haitian orphanage we visited in the summer of 2012. I imagine hugging a set of twins, overjoyed to learn I could adopt them. Then, in this picture, a worker comes in as I am packing them up and says, "There was a mistake, these two aren't up for adoption! I'm so sorry!" Then she points to another pair of orphans. "But, these two are...Would you be interested in them instead?" Of course! And I would adopt the other orphans instead, and life would be blessed and full with those two. This vision helps to heal my broken heart.<br />
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Yes, we will continue in our story. An orphan (or two....or three?!?!) out there in the world is depending on us to push through this. The unexpected twist in our story brings us to tears, but provides even more purpose and resolve to help those in distress.<br />
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What should probably make us scared to move forward has bolstered our faith in the only One we can trust in this process. God is faithful. So we will be too. Our faith continues to grow in this determined state. We depend more than ever on the author of our story. We cling to Scripture like Deuteronomy 31:8. We continue to say, "Thank you for this refining process."<br />
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As for our story, this crazy twist should pump out a real page-turner with a fantastic ending....right?Lana Shoafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01093055995202178017noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2214380839339295545.post-9633717943756696312014-01-06T19:54:00.000-08:002014-01-06T19:54:18.132-08:00Combatting Fear in the New YearI don't have much to share except: I'm scared. The thought of this new year seems too big to me. I have no idea what's in store come next December.<br />
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What if this all falls through and our emotional and monetary investments seem wasted? What if Edmond and Edina come and we don't adjust well or parent well? What if our biological kids revolt?!?<br />
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Ah! I'm scared.<br />
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I decided that before I was transparent with you here, I would be transparent with God. He lead me to Ephesians 5:15-16 and reminded me to, "Be very careful, then, how you live- not as unwise but as wise, <i>making the most of every opportunity..."</i><br />
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Even though I'm scared, I want to make the most of this opportunity (and I do feel like we are being wise, even though some people may question our barometer for wisdom!). I guess that's why I choose to blog my thoughts throughout this process. Tim and I are passionate about orphans and sharing here has proven quite the open door to show how ordinary people can play a part. But writing here makes me scared too. The world-wide web spotlights my fears and throws them on a platform. Yikes!<br />
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Tim and I viewed a sermon a while back featuring Francis Chan sharing insight over Psalm 23. It spoke to me in my fear and reminded both Tim and I why it makes more sense to go ahead with this than to hold back. We watched it again on Sunday, and I knew I wanted to share it with you!<br />
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If you are snowed in like I am and have a little spare time, I highly recommend watching Francis share his thoughts on Psalm 23. This scripture generates confidence and peace in situations that call for fear and anxiety.<br />
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Confidence and peace. Yes, I'll take that over fear any day! <i>"Hi-Ya!"</i> (That's me karate-chopping fear in the face! I'm fighting it Karate Kid style because I've been cooped up for a looooooong time with a Karate Kid marathon on TV. Wow. Cabin fever is setting in, folks.)<br />
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That's where I'm at. If you think about it and want to, you can pray for me and for us. Specifically that we would have peace and confidence in this process. We have watched God answer so many prayers! I trust He will answer these as well.<br />
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Maybe I can share more about ways we've been blessed and encouraged during the Holidays in a later post. God is THE great shepherd and we have much to share!<br />
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Anyway, here's the video. Warning: it's a world rocker! <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nhci_wIjvNU">Click here to view Francis Chan's sermon, "The Lord is My Shepherd"</a> The preaching starts at about minute 18 (but the stuff before is good too).<br />
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This is what snowed in looks like for us! I'm calling it our very own "Snoceanfront property."</div>
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<br />Lana Shoafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01093055995202178017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2214380839339295545.post-62277454610062765492013-12-28T18:30:00.001-08:002013-12-29T11:20:18.335-08:00Christmas MorningWell, it wasn't our most exciting Christmas morning. Nothing can compare to the "Disney Trip" Christmas morning we had three years ago that made all the kids cry....because the thought of driving 16 hours in our mini van only to be separated from friends and family over Christmas Break upset them to tears! That totally didn't turn out like the commercials promised, but THAT is whooooole different story.<br />
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About a month ago, we decided to forgo the gift-buying this year, and we stuck to our guns! Our extended families supported us and understood our reasons for wanting to save money and reserve our Christmas energy for next year when ALL of our kiddos are around the tree on Christmas morning.<br />
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I will say, going to the mall with no list was LIBERATING! I did not envy the frantic moms clutching seven bags with marching feet and rosy cheeks on a mission to grab it all before time ran out! We did manage two trips to the mall in December to pick up only the things we needed to keep a family of six clothed...and a baked pretzel dripping with buttery, sugary goodness, of course. I even went to Target and came away with just a bag of mints and a wreath for my door, period.<br />
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Yes, I really liked the idea of simplifying Christmas. However, while we were hanging stockings after Thanksgiving, Ally asked, "Why are we even hanging these things up, we won't put any gifts in them, will we?"<br />
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Hmmm, I had never thought of that. (We hung the stockings anyway. The place looked too bare without them!)<br />
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The next week, I was grocery shopping and ran into a friend who had been reading our story, and we talked about Christmas. I admitted that I did not know what Christmas morning would actually look like and mentioned Ally's comment about the stockings. During our conversation, a light-bulb went off just above her head (I swear I even saw it!) and I knew she was sitting on a good idea.<br />
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She started to say she had an idea, and then stopped like she didn't want to impose. Knowing that the best ideas come from the frozen veggie aisle at Wal-Mart, I urged her to share. She explained how words mean so much to her and suggested writing letters to our kids and use them as "stocking stuffers" for Christmas morning. She continued, "Letters cost no money, could be saved forever, AND communicate love and appreciation for each one of your kids."<br />
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WHY HADN'T I THOUGHT OF THAT?!?!? (This Language Arts teacher wanted to hug that girl's neck right by the peas and carrots!)<br />
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Okay, I just realized in the last four paragraphs, two of them began with me not thinking. That happens a lot. I am like an idea factory and when I get a good one, I go with it and let the thinking come later! No one knows this better than my husband, so when I told him about this new, great, fantastic idea, he kindly agreed to write letters. Although he does not share my love for writing, he would do anything for the kids...even write. So, he was willing to express his thoughts in hopes of creating a memory.<br />
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We decided to share the letter-writing idea with the kids and commissioned them to write letters to each other as well. Soon after their break began, I brought out a variety of paper and pens and pitched the plan.<br />
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They agreed, but I'm pretty sure I heard, "I thought we were on a break from school!"<br />
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"Writing is good for the soul," I told them in my most inspiring eleventh-grade English teacher voice, and I dreamt of sparkly, adjective filled, three paragraph letters that would be treasured forever. The kids worked on them and began filling the stockings.<br />
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Finally, Christmas morning came. Just as planned, we woke up to....(drum roll, please)<br />
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an empty tree.<br />
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I made a special breakfast and the kids all slept in (that was different). Tim and I set the table and waited for all the kids to wake. Our plans seemed good, but I'm not gonna lie...I came down with the Christmas morning blues.<br />
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No gifts meant no wide eyes of wonder, no throwing of paper in intense excitement, no crazy reactions from the kids, no neck hugging and profuse thanking.<br />
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It was a downer. Not even a sparkly, three paragraph letter addressed to me would fix what I missed in opening presents.<br />
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Even Tim said, "This is kinda sad. I actually miss the presents." (He wowed me with that one...some years I wonder if he is The Grinch!)<br />
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The kids finally woke up and felt it too. But we ate our breakfast, read the Christmas story, and then opened our letters.<br />
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Yes, the letters were special. Yes, it was fun to open something on Christmas morning. Yes, they made us laugh, and made Tim cry. Despite the lack of sparkle, adjectives, and paragraphs, I realized they were timeless and perfect.<br />
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The kids' personalities oozed out of each note as I unfolded them. I love each one of my kids, created by the same God, placed in the same family, but still so different from each other. Grace's letters were pretty and creative. Ally's wordy and thoughtful, Josie's had illustrations, and Jackson's came with instructions to, "Read in a British accent!"<br />
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After we laughed (and Tim wiped the tears from his cheeks), we agreed the letters were a winning idea. Jackson said what everyone was thinking, however, when he offered his thoughts:<br />
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"Let's write letters again next year AND buy Christmas presents to open!"<br />
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And I think that's what we'll do.<br />
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I wonder what the letters next Christmas to Edmond and Edina will say...<br />
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What kinds of memories will we have at that point?<br />
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What personality traits will we dote on in each?<br />
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Will they be able to read the letters?<br />
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Will they have a great British accent like their brother?<br />
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Even as I write these thoughts, I think of God watching us. We are waiting to receive a gift (TWO gifts!) that will not only bless, but <i>complete</i> our family. We don't know what these gifts will hold, but we understand them to be something extremely special. I imagine that we are the wide-eyed, wonder filled, intensely excited kid on Christmas morning. I am bursting to open these new gifts and see what God has in store for our family! I realize that He is the giver of all great gifts and enjoys our reactions, and hugs to the neck with profuse thanksgiving.<br />
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Before we even receive these bundles, God, I say, "Thank you! Thank you for the opportunity to grow and love! We owe every drop of gratitude for this story to you and your work in our lives. Thank you, thank you, thank you!"<br />
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<br />Lana Shoafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01093055995202178017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2214380839339295545.post-5470869233326994562013-12-18T18:59:00.000-08:002013-12-18T18:59:57.641-08:00And Sometimes We Are Stubborn and StupidBack to the adoption progress...and a bump in the road where we discover how stupid and stubborn we are.<br />
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After we had been officially matched with a set of boy/girl twins from Ghana, we had paperwork to complete. The documents that the foreign government requires are often referred to as the "dossier." For Ghana, the documents were manageable to gather, sign, and pass along to our adoption agency. The entire process in gathering these documents was about a month (but would have been about half that time if we would have remembered to sign the most important one!).<br />
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Upon beginning our official process with Cradle of Hope, they offered to place Edmond and Edina in Ghanian foster care until we are able to bring them home. This is an outstanding opportunity, and we felt confident about the process in general and love the personal feel of connecting with the orphanage director over the foster family selection. In fact, a few months prior, the agency handling our home-study excitedly encouraged us to get them out of the orphanage and into a home if it was ever offered to us. They had seen countless benefits from cases past in which foster care had greatly enhanced the transition process of inter-country adoptions. Here we were, with an excellent proposition.<br />
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However, there was a price.<br />
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Now, this won't paint a very pretty picture of Tim and I...but it is where we are (were) at. I'm just keeping it real here!<br />
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International adoption is expensive. We knew that going into the process. We understood that if God was calling us to this, he would give us means to cover any financial requirement. But this foster care cost was hard to swallow.<br />
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First of all, we were certain that the amount they needed, or charged, greatly exceeded the amount we imagined a child (or two) required for monthly care in Ghana. We knew they would be fed better than the one meal of beans and rice they received at the orphanage, but couldn't imagine food in Ghana being more expensive than food in the U.S. We also counted the cost of schooling and some lodging costs and our numbers were still much less that what they wanted us to contribute every month.<br />
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Secondly, we wondered, where would all that money go? We were sure our kids would reap the benefits, but with all of it?!?!? Tim has been especially leery during this entire process, politely asking the agency to clarify procedures and requirements to ensure ethical behavior on our end and theirs. Would this money be entirely used for ethical purposes? We didn't know. We couldn't know. Sure, the agency said that it would. Was their word enough?<br />
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Third, this cost was something we hadn't planned on. We had money for our adoption saved, but this cost would add a substantial amount to our bottom line. And, unlike the other expenses that came a bit at a time and then in one hunk, this would be a consistent withdrawal from our coveted savings.<br />
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There, I said it, "coveted." It was <i>our</i> money. We had worked hard for it and wanted to use it in the adoption process, but for the end goal...not during and because of the process to people we weren't sure we could trust.<br />
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But time was running out. If we wanted our kids to be placed in a home, we needed to send three months of foster care money, NOW.<br />
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We knew we would do it. THEY WERE OUR KIDS, FOR PETE'S SAKE. We thought about our biological kids in an orphanage setting with an opportunity to live in a house with a bathroom, kitchen table, and mamma to tuck them in at night and longed for Edmond and Edina to have the same. Yes, it was time to send a check.<br />
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I remember the day we sent it. I was off work for the afternoon, addressing other adoption paperwork. Tim and I met at home to look at our checklist and take care of everything possible in those few hours. At around 1:00, Tim wrote the check out, addressed the envelope, placed a stamp in the top corner, and cringed.<br />
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"Let's pray over this." I suggested, still feeling uneasy about sending our money off into the great unknown.<br />
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And so we prayed. Prayers that the money would be used wisely. Asking God to help us to let go of our money. Pleading that he would use it to care greatly for our kids in Ghana. We prayed for God to help us understand that this check and situation was in his hands and not ours.<br />
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Three hours later, we felt God smile (maybe even chuckle) over us.<br />
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The kids came home from school and I was busy helping them with school work when Tim came in from the mailbox. He was going through the mail and he passed me an opened envelope and said with a smirk on his face, "Here, look at this...I think you'll find it very interesting."<br />
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With a curious look of my own, I felt the small, thick note. When I opened the simple, handwritten note, cash fell onto my arm....lots of cash. The note simply said, "Tim, Lana + Family, Please use this for your adoption. Praying that everything goes well." I counted the money....almost an entire month's worth of money we were required to pay for foster care!<br />
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Tears formed again. (I'm not usually a crier, I promise. This whole adoption thing and watching God work is amazing enough to warrant tears, even from me!)<br />
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Hadn't we prayed two hours before about money? Hadn't we doubted the process and our capability two hours prior? Hadn't we struggled to "let go" of "our" cash to aid the two orphans we've been praying for?<br />
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Yes, God was smiling. He knew that we had no clue about "our" money. He knew that we held too tightly to what seemed rightfully ours. He knew we were being stubborn and stupid, even in this no-brainer situation to help our kids.<br />
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He showed us.<br />
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He showed us that our money is not really ours. Just like the money in the envelope was not really ours...or the anonymous giver's. He showed us that HE alone is the provider.<br />
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And he can be very generous.<br />
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Since that afternoon, we have received a similar envelope in the mail, covering another entire month's foster care. And in our sharing, a couple had previously asked if they could do the same. So, here we are, one month into foster care for Edmond and Edina and the Lord has paid for every day of it and the next two months to come!<br />
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We trust that He will continue to provide. (Side note, Tim plows snow for extra money in the winters and to date he has pushed snow 3 times more so far this year than any other year!) God is good, even when we are stupid and stubborn.<br />
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We have since created an account with adopttogether.com for such donations. At this web address, anyone can donate to our adoption and receive a receipt (the gift can be tax deductible) and be assured that the money is used for adoption expenses only. We are granted money from our account only when we show receipts of our adoption expenses and it must be approved by their board of directors.<br />
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Please do not feel obligated, but if you've wondered how to help or give, this is the answer. The right side bar of this blog has a direct link to our AdoptTogether profile and account and will take you through the donation process painlessly. Or, if you want to give, but not online, you can always send an anonymous note and make me cry:)<br />
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<br />Lana Shoafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01093055995202178017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2214380839339295545.post-37133998689754061452013-12-09T19:38:00.000-08:002013-12-09T19:38:10.831-08:00A Different Kind of ChristmasChristmas will be different this year. Tim and I discussed a while back that we should cut back or even forego all the gift-giving this Christmas.<br />
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Tim is always looking for a way out of the commercialism and the "gimme" fever that settles in our house every November 26th (or so...depending on when the Black Friday ads come out). I, on the other hand, love, love, love gift giving and I'm at the height of my game during the holidays! But, after discussing with Tim, I realized that it would be difficult to celebrate fully around the Christmas tree on December 25th knowing two of our kids are spending Christmas morning in a steamy country across the ocean with much less fanfare. We also acknowledged that it would be an excellent area to cut back in because our kids really don't <i>need</i> anything. And, Tim argued, it was an opportunity to live with less and nurture the value of contentment in our kids. It sounded so idealistic.<br />
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Well, we received our first text about exchanging names for Christmas a few weeks ago, which I avoided because I didn't know what to say. Were we really going to sit out? Our idealistic idea turned into a picture of genuine torture for the Shoaf kids. I could see clearly in my mind, all of the Shoaf cousins "oohing" and "aahing" over perfectly picked gifts they exchanged while our poor, pitiful four would longingly look at beautifully wrapped packages, trying not to show their jealousy, secretly wishing one was for them. Ugh. We needed to talk.<br />
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We brought it up over dinner (a lot of things happen over dinner, I am realizing as I continue to post to my blog!). Tim just flat out asked the kids what they <i>really </i>wanted to do. Did they want a regular Christmas, or did they want to try to sacrifice gifts this year so that next year we could do Christmas with all SIX of our kids?<br />
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We were surprised at the responses.<br />
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Ally was very fine with it. Keep in mind, she has "Kisses From Katie" mentality and would give just about anything for an orphan.<br />
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Grace toughed through it. She was clearly struggling, but agreed that it was the right thing to do.<br />
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Jackson spoke matter-of-fact about the whole issue. Concluding that it certainly was the right thing to do. <br />
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Josie's excitement was difficult to hide. She loved the idea!<br />
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Well, that was easier than we thought. It was decided: there would be no gifts around our Christmas tree this Christmas. Next, we asked about family exchanges and what they thought about those, and the responses were the same. There would be absolutely no gift-buying in our household this Christmas.<br />
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We told Tim's family about it over the weekend. With nods, they told us they understood.<br />
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Tim's family is rather large. He has two older sisters and they have three kids a piece. He also has three step-sisters, two of them also have kids. Brooke has two darling girls and Steph has four (a singlet and then a set of triplets...don't drink the water at our Christmases unless you want to run the risk of having multiples!). Christmastime at Grandpa Jack and Grandma Sue's is quite the ordeal. The tree skirt can't be seen with the mountain of gifts piled under and around the tree! We have a family exchange, and Jack and Sue are always gracious with their gifts, so there is plenty to go around on Christmas Day.<br />
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That's why Sue's text the next day came as a surprise. She asked if it was okay if we forgot about the exchange altogether and had all the kids bring a small gift for Edmond and Edina.<br />
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Oh my!<br />
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Tears came to my eyes again. Then I felt guilty. This had not been our motive or imagined outcome. I apologized and reassured her that we didn't want anyone to feel like they also had to give up the exchange.<br />
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Then she told me it was all Brooke's idea. Brooke knew that kids even as small as hers would make complete sense of giving up a Christmas gift for cousins waiting to join our family from across the ocean. So, now those darling little girls with pigtails are shopping for kids they've never met but want to love. My heart melts just thinking of it!<br />
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I can't think of a better "different" way to celebrate the birth of love itself. Tim and I are incredibly blessed with this opportunity to add to our family. We are beside ourselves in our wait to meet our kids for the first time! We can't wait to go through these gifts with our kids in Africa and show them photos of all the aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents waiting to share life with them and love them in a "Christmas" kind of way all the time.<br />
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Yes, this different kind of Christmas may just be one of our favorites so far! (Although, Lord willing, the next one's sure to be pretty historic!)<br />
<br />Lana Shoafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01093055995202178017noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2214380839339295545.post-10281722918613172902013-11-24T14:10:00.004-08:002013-11-24T14:50:41.666-08:00I Am CrazyOur presentation at church blessed us! We were able to share transparently the journey God asked us to take one step at a time. We admitted to them that we weren't sure about the outcome. We told them about Edmond and Edina, but clearly stated they were just one option in the wide world of international adoption.<br />
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Individuals and couples encouraged us in the next days and weeks. They wanted to share with us. Without us asking, they began inquiring about how they could financially give (tears....God's people are his very hands at times!). Yes, our church would be our support. We were confident in that and translated the message to Chris, the social worker responsible for finding a forever family for Edmond and Edina.<br />
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With the blessing came...well, other stuff. Now <i>everybody</i> knew how crazy we were. Before this, we could be selective with whom we shared our adoption process. After sharing freely with whomever chose to show up at church, we knew that word would get out that we were adopting two kids from Africa (translated: crazy).<br />
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I'm not gonna lie. Something told me that when a conversation landed on the Shoafs, people would speculate our motivation, capability, sanity. And so the second-guessing continued...some days worse than others.<br />
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This was bad timing for second-guessing....Cradle of Hope sent an e-mail entitled, "Welcome Aboard!"<br />
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We were officially matched. Our home study was complete and Edmond and Edina were reserved for the Shoaf family pending international documentation and approval. This is what we had been working for!<br />
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Tim and I were excited to be officially matched and conveyed the news over dinner to the kids. They began discussing sleeping arrangements, offering their bedrooms for sharing. And if the second-guessing wasn't enough, the reality of having two more kids began to weigh on me. Was I going to go crazy?<br />
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Then I found it.<br />
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I was sitting in church on a Wednesday night. Tim worked late and didn't make it in with us. Josie had dropped my Bible the day before, causing all of my "inserted notes" to fall out. Bless her heart, she cleaned them up off the floor and shoved them back in my Bible, but the bulky mis-placed notes were making it difficult for me to navigate the Scripture passages being taught by our pastor. Desperately trying not to show my aggravation, I flipped a chunk of pages to discover a small, home-made booklet with "Haiti 2012" printed on the makeshift cover. It was my journal from Haiti!<br />
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Throughout our adoption process, I had often wondered if I documented any information about the children we grew close to from the Mission of Hope orphanage. As the pastor continued teaching, I flipped through the pages...memories came flooding back. One of the last things written in the journal took my breath away. In my own handwriting from July 8, 2012, I read:<br />
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<i>"We have seen first hand, these poor children in the village and their parents' request is always that they could go to school. I also spoke with Abby, a staff person, who shared more personally. Lydia was with me and we discussed adoption. This is the first time in my life I have ever felt the nudge to ask more about adopting. After seeing so many twins in the orphanage, I asked her why they have a lot of twins. She said they were viewed as a curse and were many times unwanted. That broke my heart! Back home, twins are quite the opposite. I thought, if I could adopt a set of twins out of this poverty and their stigma, I would do it in a second. I will continue to pray about this."</i><br />
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Our pastor kept speaking, but for me, time stopped. Had I written this?!?! I remember that conversation. I remember having those thoughts and I vaguely remember a prayer time on the roof...but those memories were foggy. Here it was, in writing. God was bringing to pass what I had prayed. He was in the details....and twins even!<br />
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Yes, I was crazy. There was no more second-guessing that. But now I knew that I was crazy because God is crazy. He is crazy about His people and working things out for good. He is crazy about the afflicted. He is crazy because He uses ordinary people to carry out extraordinary things.<br />
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I am crazy. But I don't care. God will use imperfect people in crazy situations to work out miraculous details. Scripture is full of them. Hebrews 11 had become my comfort in knowing that God does crazy things. And now I felt like I was living part of this crazy thing called "faith." I know God planted that journal on Wednesday night because he knew I needed to know that I was the best kind of crazy there is.<br />
<br />Lana Shoafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01093055995202178017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2214380839339295545.post-10897712351110803412013-11-23T16:49:00.002-08:002013-11-23T19:51:45.038-08:00Yes! No. Maybe?Our Gateway Woods consultation prompted a phone call to Cradle of Hope, an adoption agency from Maryland with an adorable listing....twins that wedged their way into my heart and onto my prayer list. I spoke with a social worker named Chris, mentioning that I had previously inquired about the listing and asked if they were still available for adoption.<br />
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"I haven't received a single inquiry about these two," he replied.<br />
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My heart broke. My initial discovery of Edmond and Edina happened weeks, almost two months before. They were perfect and yet nobody thought so....except me. I knew this meant a couple of things.<br />
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First, I realized, with new understanding, how difficult placing orphans must be. Chris suggested some may have been deterred because there were two of them. He also suggested that the age of the twins, 5 1/2, could be a factor in the difficult placement.<br />
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"Oh, Edmond and Edina!" I wanted to tell them, "You are not unwanted!"<br />
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Then I realized that this may just be God making a way for Edmond and Edina to be placed in the perfect family for them....OURS. Waves of excitement, relief, reluctance, love, and fear washed over me. Was God going to place these two in our family?!?! Were we ready for this?<br />
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Yes!<br />
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No.<br />
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Maybe?<br />
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I kept in touch with Chris, passing along information about our family and situation so he could give us an idea if this match had potential. Countless e-mails sent back and forth finally eluded to positive feedback from Chris and Cradle of Hope. As soon as our home study was complete, they would officially match our family with the twins and begin the international documents!<br />
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Just as my initial response evoked many emotions, so did our wait. Should we tell the kids? How do we pray? Could I picture them at my supper table, chiming in on our crazy family dinner conversations?<br />
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Yes!<br />
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No.<br />
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Maybe?<br />
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My heart wanted to invest, but my brain told me to, "...hold off." I would begin to play out scenarios in my head that always began with, "Well, when we have two more kids, we'll...." and would always end with, "Stop. They aren't yours," followed by a schizophrenic prayer about Edmond and Edina. I know God has processed those completely and perfectly, but probably chuckled at my reluctance and rephrasing on hundreds of occasions.<br />
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We continued forward in our part, collecting documents, sending e-mails, praying, praying, praying. At one point, Cradle of Hope asked for a finance plan on our adoption. How were we going to pay for this? Did we have support from others? So, we studied the costs outlined in their documents and devised a plan from our savings account.<br />
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But we were short. Adopting two kids instead of one added costs that we had not counted.<br />
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We knew that God could provide. He would provide. But how do you say that on paper? We asked Chris that question and he said he would need evidence of support. We decided to share with our pastor this crazy plan laid out before us and see where he would suggest we begin in covering the difference for our financial plan.<br />
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We thought maybe he'd just sign off and say, "Sure. Tell him you'll have support!" And then later help us figure out a way for fundraising. But he didn't. He said, "You need to share this with the church. Get a presentation ready...we have an opening three weeks from now during an evening service." <br />
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Gulp.<br />
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Our kids weren't even convinced we were serious about adopting (because we had been so reserved in our communication about being matched...it wasn't official yet!) and now we needed to share with our church?!?!<br />
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We didn't feel ready. We didn't feel qualified. We didn't feel like the timing was right. Good thing God doesn't push us to do things that "feel" right.<br />
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We discovered that first, laying out our journey was a blessing to us. We created a Power Point presentation with pictures detailing God's hand in our adoption process so far. We counted our blessings. God had been with us. This reminder gave us confidence that he was involved in every detail...even in our presentation before the church. Second, we were reminded that although adoption is an unsure process, it is okay...even good, to be transparent with people. We<i> so</i> wanted that in our presentation. We wanted our church family to know our struggles and hesitations, our yes, nos, and maybes. We wanted our church family to know how heavily we relied on Hebrews 11. We wanted our church family to know that he does not call the equipped, but equips the called. Confidence in our adoption story was gaining and we were excited to share.Lana Shoafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01093055995202178017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2214380839339295545.post-50310345298208473662013-11-23T15:04:00.002-08:002013-11-23T19:50:22.544-08:00Go TimeSummer's end neared and we still hadn't done anything to move an adoption forward. Tim and I both felt that it was time to act. After finding Edmond and Edina's faces on Rainbowkids.com, I contacted their listing agency. The reply seemed an end to that option as they indicated that families with a completed home study was the starting point with that sibling group. That was not us.<br />
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However, I knew that God had a plan for those orphans and he had a plan for us. We decided to call a local Christian agency that offered social services including home studies.<a href="http://www.gatewaywoods.org/"> Gateway Woods</a> was an organization that I had grown up knowing well. I had distant relatives that had moved the forty miles north to Gateway Woods when I was an adolescent and I remembered that they had moved there to be "houseparents" to troubled foster kids. Every year, we would attend the fundraising auction that our church denomination held to aid and grow the campus of Gateway Woods.<br />
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Tim and I made the short drive to Leo, Indiana, finding a much larger campus than I had remembered as a young adult. We met with the adoption coordinator there (she happened to be a dear friend of my mother's from when they lived in Bluffton) who flooded us with information on adoption and the services they provide.<br />
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One pleasantly surprising detail we discovered was the opportunity to adopt from a handful of countries. We know from Loving Shepherd Ministries that Ethiopia was a viable option, but Gateway plays a major roll in many international adoptions and she gave us recent, real stories of families just like ours also adopting from the Congo and Niger. She added that because each orphan is different, sometimes countries will overlook laws in order to place orphans, especially if they are older. Because we wanted to adopt an older child (or children), she thought we would also be eligible to adopt from other countries.<br />
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This seemed freeing to us! Other families had recently applied, been matched, and brought kids home just like we intended! For the first time, we looked at each other with expressions that said, "We are really doing this!"<br />
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At the end of our consultation (at no charge!), she asked if we were ready to move forward to which we responded together, "Yes!"<br />
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She advised us to begin with our home study and passed a stack of paperwork across her desk to us. The packet would guide us through the document collection we would be doing for the next few weeks. She set another appointment up for us and said, "At that appointment, we will need to know from which country you are interested in adopting."<br />
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We immediately replied, "Well,<i> you</i> tell <i>us</i>...we have no clue and really just want whatever God makes available to us." We reassured her that we were fairly flexible and wanted her expert advice in choosing a location from which to adopt. This seemed too big a decision to arbitrarily make.<br />
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She then asked, "Well, do you have any leads? Have you seen any photos of waiting kids?"<br />
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Tim looked at me and his face said to me, "Ummmm, do those twins count?"<br />
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Of course, I immediately chimed in, "Well, I did see an adorable photo of twins! I don't know much about them, I only know the agency wanted a family with a completed home study."<br />
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A smile spread across her face as she said, "Twins! Well, they would fit right into your family! Won't your parents be tickled...another set of twins for the Smith family!" She laughed and encouraged me to contact them again to see if they were still available for adoption After asking several questions about the agency, she assured us that it seemed like a legitimate option. She also gave us names of other agencies from the countries she had mentioned that also have photo listings of older children and sibling sets in case the twins were not an option anymore. <br />
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Oh my....we had a plan! WE WERE DOING THIS!<br />
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We felt for the first time that we had someone willing to work for us, advocate for us, pray for us and with us, and guide us in this foreign process. We also felt a bit more overwhelmed as the details began revealing themselves. Adoption is a costly and rigorous process. Yes, we had a lot to talk about on the way home from Leo that night...a conversation that continued for the next several days.<br />
<br />Lana Shoafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01093055995202178017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2214380839339295545.post-74956629323615082802013-11-09T18:04:00.001-08:002013-11-26T18:19:56.337-08:00Faces With NamesOur meetings with local adoptive families spurred me on! I was ready to research and explore options for adoption. With list in hand, I looked at recommended agency web-sites and prepared to sign on the dotted line with our money, hope, and future to an agency. But that is a very difficult thing to do.<br />
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Tim and I both felt paralyzed. We wanted to start, but how? We knew enough to be dangerous...but not enough to really commit. In my aimless exploration, I stumbled upon a web-site called<a href="http://www.rainbowkids.com/"> Rainbowkids.com.</a> And that is where I first saw them.<br />
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The site exists to help families adopt and specifically tries to encourage families to adopt children from around the world who are hard to place. The site contained great information for families interested in adoption, so I kept clicking around on the site until it asked if I wanted to see pictures of waiting kids. YES, I WANTED TO SEE PICTURES OF WAITING KIDS! And so, I added a user name a password (was I really doing this?!?!) to get a glimpse of children waiting for a family.<br />
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I knew this decision could be dangerous...especially when I logged in and saw #1 of some 1,700 waiting kids. An orphan seems like someone far away. A distant prayer request. But this orphan had a face with a name. My eyes softened, right along with my heart. Good thing I didn't have any plans that night.<br />
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The photos I saw on my initial visit to Rainbow kids were from Asia, Africa, Eastern Europe, and the United States. I learned that disabilities made placing kids extremely difficult. I understood why. Tim and I weren't opposed to a child (or sibling set) with disabilities, but seeing them here with names made that become much more real. What could we handle...were we really up for this?<br />
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About two-thirds of the way through, I found a little girl from Africa. I remember thinking, I shouldn't even be pulling this one up...a boy would be much better suited for our family. Then, instead of one African girl, I was looking at an African boy <i>with</i> an African girl. I hungrily read the information....a girl, with a brother, healthy, but considered too old to be easily placed. And then I looked at their birth dates. They were TWINS!<br />
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I remember thinking right away, "Don't get too excited, Lana. You are far from an adoption. Keep researching." But I couldn't. After viewing every last one of the 1,700 orphans on Rainbowkids.com, I realized that I had "saved" only two files...the two files from that set of twins in Africa. I showed Ally (Tim wasn't home) and she immediately melted. Not only were they twins, but seemingly healthy, and from Africa no less!<br />
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Of course, I told Tim about it when he returned home that night. And of course, he told me not to get too excited because we were a long way off from deciding what direction our adoption would take.<br />
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Regardless, I had a set of twins to pray for and they had names: Edmond and Edina (I loved those names!). I didn't care if it was a long shot for these two to join our family, I prayed they would be placed in the family God had waiting for them. (And if that happened to be us, that would be fine with me!)Lana Shoafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01093055995202178017noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2214380839339295545.post-31630520582051102812013-11-02T08:13:00.001-07:002013-11-09T17:31:33.674-08:00The Pros Weigh InAfter learning a little about adoption programs, but not knowing where to turn, we looked to the professionals...friends who walked the road of adoption. We brainstormed a list families in the area we knew had adopted and spent the summer planning dinner engagements with each family. We specifically called families who had adopted from Ethiopia, hoping to learn more about the Ethiopian program.<br />
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The families revealed more about the adoption process than any agency could afford. After meeting with three families, we recognized common sentiment among them. First, they all said if given the opportunity to do over, they would 100% adopt again. Reassurance flooded our souls with these statements. Real people sharing real stories, with rough edges and ugly spots even, and every single one of them said adoption was more than worth it!<br />
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Secondly, the families suggested adopting more than one child. Without noticing, every family we invited over for dinner had adopted more than once. When addressing this topic, they all recommended adopting more than one child because we were considering trans-racial adoption. And so began our "sibling group" conversation. Because we were looking for an older child, sibling groups would make sense, we thought. The only problem: our age range was too tight for most sibling groups. Over the summer, we decide that we would be open and perhaps even prefer a sibling group and decided God would have to place the perfect set in our hands.<br />
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The third realization these families brought forth was the difficulty in diversity. We initially realized the challenges and uniqueness of adopting from a different culture, but here were faces with stories of how even the most optimistic family faced challenges in a trans-racial family.<br />
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We live in rural Indiana with little racial diversity, so we knew an African child would stand out in a crowd here. Some of the families opened up about real challenges with overcoming stereotypes and racism among family members. Others had no problem with Indianians, rather the child themselves noticed the glaring differences in appearance at school, at church, at Wal-Mart. One family told of how just in recent days they had found the adopted child scrubbing his skin "white." My ridiculous optimism lessened in this conversation. Adopting a child with a different cultural heritage and ethnicity, I began to realize, wouldn't come without its challenges.<br />
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In the end, however, we encouragement abounded. These families offered a type of support we couldn't find anywhere else. And, after each meeting with each unique family, we felt God telling us, "This is for you." So, we kept praying and the doors or adoption began to open.<br />
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<br />Lana Shoafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01093055995202178017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2214380839339295545.post-15758051125424206732013-11-01T17:55:00.003-07:002013-11-23T18:47:51.253-08:00Family FastAfter Ally revealed the truth and made it known that she wanted to help orphans, she enlisted her siblings to help too. They all began asking if we could adopt an orphan. Tim and I listened but were also realistic and a bit overwhelmed. We knew that adding a child to our family would be a stretch. We already enjoyed our four kids, but kids take a lot of energy! We were overwhelmed too because we had no clue where to begin asking about opportunities to help orphans by way of adoption (and were we really serious enough to broach the subject outside of our family dining room table?). We also didn't want to make an emotional decision, so we continued to pray and encouraged our kids to do the same.<br />
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Well, Spring came, and the kids tired of our automatic response to the adoption question, "Keep praying, honey." So, finally, while planning a Spring Break trip to Gulf Shores, Alabama, Tim and I decided to talk to the kids seriously about adoption on our trip. We enjoyed a sunny (but cold) stay at the beach in Alabama and spoke frankly with the kids about adopting. We talked about the things that may have to change. We suggested foster care. We shared the exciting parts, the risky parts, and the areas of sacrifice. At the end of our vacation, we decided to "do" something.<br />
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Tim and I and the kids decided to commit to fasting during the month of April. We fasted from eating out. I know this seems trivial, but for the Shoafs, this is no small feat. We eat out. A lot. Tim visits fast food drive-thrus and gas station fountain pop stations enough that the attendants know his name and order by the sound of his voice! I'm a working mom and have ordered my share of pizzas through the school weeks. I'm not saying that to expose our bad eating habits, but to say that this certainly was a sacrifice for us. We made orphans our prayer focus for the month of April.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi05Ev5ZPJx1g7D338A0fafQxN-f72M96lIaqRXb4nfKs7wu0QwQhH1nWKa2PzWZfBV1v2sW_RHygSbIys5PGzNvUt8Ptoo1KIE9T9c4GEl7LBKvpO69qvhGN1vakwUGj2cizmjtvE2G5Ht/s1600/IMG_1442.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi05Ev5ZPJx1g7D338A0fafQxN-f72M96lIaqRXb4nfKs7wu0QwQhH1nWKa2PzWZfBV1v2sW_RHygSbIys5PGzNvUt8Ptoo1KIE9T9c4GEl7LBKvpO69qvhGN1vakwUGj2cizmjtvE2G5Ht/s320/IMG_1442.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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This is us in Alabama, ironically at a restaurant:)</div>
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We felt the sacrifice. About every three days at least on of the kids would beg to order a pizza, go to a restaurant, or grab a fountain pop at our local deli. Each time we reminded them that God honors sacrifice and we prayed specifically for God to make a way for us to help at least one orphan.<br />
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Did God answer? Did He show us what to do? Not right away. In fact, on our last day of the fast, we sat around the kitchen table and I asked, "So, what's next? What do you think we should do about helping an orphan?"<br />
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Jackson summed it up best when he said, "I think we should keep praying AND go out to eat!"<br />
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So, we went out to CoCo China Buffet! AND we prayed. We also contacted the organization that Stephanie Fast endorses which gives families interested in adoption some direction. Loving Shepherd Ministries does a lot of things, but one service they provide is an adoption questionnaire customized for families to fill out according to their specific family dynamics.<br />
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From our contact with Loving Shepherd Ministries, we discovered that our family would probably be a better fit for an older orphan (4 years old, at least), but still younger than our youngest (the twins were 7). After determining that, they provided information for programs geared for older children. And that lead us to narrow our adoption focus. We learned that adopting an older child from the U.S. is a sticky process. We also learned that to adopt Internationally, our family size would prohibit us from most countries. In the end, Loving Shepherd Ministries told us that Ethiopia would be a good place to start in our inquiry for adoption.<br />
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From here we felt paralyzed. There were so many agencies to choose from and so much corruption in the adoption world. (I started reading blogs and googling information which turns up miraculous stories alongside stories of deception and trafficking.) We also began to realize the immensity of the process and costs. We didn't know what to do. So, we kept praying, (does that sound familiar?) and God kept answering.Lana Shoafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01093055995202178017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2214380839339295545.post-50628828964469799562013-11-01T17:21:00.000-07:002013-11-23T18:45:01.007-08:00Oh, Ally.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Our oldest daughter inherited her grandmother's name, Althea. My husband's mother passed away one day while Tim sat in his seventh grade classroom. Her death rocked his world and his faith. So, when our first daughter entered the world, he used his beloved mother's name as a tribute to her life. Her legacy consists of countless friends sharing testimony of her deep friendship. She seemingly lived for the sole purpose of caring for others and building relationships to benefit the kingdom of heaven. Knowing her son, I believe that.<br />
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Althea, 13, also hears testimony of her grandmother and appreciates the "vintage" name she's been given. Ally is independent and confident. Adventure intrigues her, so our trip to Haiti left her with a longing for that land. Even after contracting "the Haitian sensation," she ate up every minute in that country. When it came time for us to return home, she was begging to stay the rest of the summer (all while I was dreaming of what I'd buy first at Wal-Mart). Poverty didn't scare her. Loss didn't scare her. She embraced the land and culture. And it followed her home.<br />
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The Fall time for her was also busy. Somehow, though, she managed to pick up a book in our church library entitled <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Kisses-Katie-Story-Relentless-Redemption/dp/1451612060"><u>Kisses From Katie</u> by Katie Davis.</a> Perhaps the brown faces on the cover reminded her of the faces she touched in Haiti. Perhaps Katie seemed like a grown up version of who she wants to be. For those reasons and probably more, she began to read Katie's story.<br />
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I haven't read the book, but Ally was taken. She summarized chapters for me and talked about it often. The story involves a young girl moving to Africa and caring for orphans until one day she adopted one. And then another, and another, and another until she had thirteen daughters. Ally continued to share Katie's inspiring story with me until one day, she was moved to action. I remember her coming downstairs from her room to show me what she had just read in her book. She said, "Mom, did you know that if 8% of professing Christians would help an orphan, there would be no more orphans?!?!"<br />
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I questioned her immediately, "Are you sure it doesn't say 80%?"<br />
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"No, it's right here, Mom." She said, showing me her book. "I want to help. I want to be part of that 8%."<br />
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"Sure," I added quickly. "Yes, we should pray about that." That was a good response, right? One can never go wrong with prayer.<br />
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"Well," she came back, "I don't know what there is to pray about. God commands us in James 1:27 to care for the orphans."<br />
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Ouch. Of course he does. Why do 13-year-olds spotlight so plainly what I strategically undervalued?<br />
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"Yes. You are right. God tells us to care for the orphan and the widow, but if we are serious about helping orphans we are really gonna need to start praying how that will look."<br />
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That satisfied Ally and she stuck her nose back in that book and wandered upstairs again.<br />
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Oh, Ally. She had done it now, said what was true and I knew it. Tim didn't need convincing, he felt God's gentle nudge to keep exploring ways to help orphans. But I was dragging my feet, mumbling my excuses, and praying my neat, safe prayers to avoid risk. But, here, Ally blatantly pointed out the truth and confronted me with it. And I had agreed to pray about how we would help. Yes, she had done it now, because I know the power of prayer and I knew things were about to get very interesting.<br />
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<br />Lana Shoafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01093055995202178017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2214380839339295545.post-58126852445792453812013-11-01T16:42:00.001-07:002013-11-23T18:36:52.268-08:00African CousinsAfter Haiti and Stephanie Fast, I certainly prayed for God's direction in my husband's serious quest to help. Our four children added to the push in a roundabout way.<br />
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Tim's sister and her husband help children through Children's Medical Mission<a href="http://www.cmmwest.com/"> (CMM)</a>. The Ringgers host little ones from Ghana and Burkina Faso, Africa while the kids receive necessary medical attention. The kids come with issues like cleft pallet and club foot that would leave them extremely disadvantaged in their home country situations.<br />
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These kiddos have become our "African Cousins," celebrating family birthdays and holidays right along with us. We also celebrate with them, attend church with them, and love on them whenever possible. These are not orphaned children, but while they are here the Ringger family considers them one of their own.<br />
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This past summer, Faida (held by Tim's sister, Kim) stayed with the Ringgers. Here, we were celebrating Faida and saying our goodbyes before she left to return to Burkina-Faso and her mommy.</div>
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This little guy, Jayson, stayed with Ringger's twice: first for leg amputations, then for surgery, and will likely come again to be fitted with prosthetic legs. It took a while for him to warm up to people, so Grace is excited here to be holding him and loving on him!</div>
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Our own kids desperately want to help a child through CMM, but our situation does not allow us to host. Tim's sister stays at home to be available for the numerous doctor appointments required to keep these kids on schedule for repairs, therapy, and general check-ups. Nevertheless, our children often ask if we too could host an African child.<br />
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Of course, I meet this with "realistic" situational suggestions to show that having an extra child in the home is not like getting a puppy. They see the smiles, braids, and clapping hands without the tears, wounds, and diapers. In a way, the Ringgers have opened the eyes of our youngest children without them stepping a foot in a third world country. Grace, Jackson, and Josie see these beautiful, spirited children and love them as part of our extended family.<br />
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In this way, I think God was preparing our kids for adoption. At the time, I knew it was expanding their world-view...but God was using it for a larger purpose.Lana Shoafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01093055995202178017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2214380839339295545.post-44275118962185956372013-11-01T16:03:00.003-07:002013-11-23T18:05:01.269-08:00Call Me, MaybeDuring the Fall and Holiday Season, Tim and I occasionally prayed for a way we could help an orphan. I recalled fondly our trip to Haiti which motivated me to pray. That's about as far as I could go.<br />
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I'm not opposed to risking material possessions, time, or energy for Christ. I've often thought of myself as one who would do the craziest things for God if he would ask. This freaked me out though...another kid? Let's be honest. I'm an amazing mom to about 1.7 kids. I'm not that organized. I work. I don't like doing dishes. Yeah, my thoughts couldn't surge past these debilitating facts (hey- not doing the dishes is debilitating, try it sometime!).<br />
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I desperately longed to help an orphan. However, helping an orphan and inviting one to live with you is a completely different thing. Sacrificing financially didn't bother me. I thought, maybe God will ask us to support 15 World Vision kids. Yeah, that would be good. I could support by licking an envelope and not have to invest emotionally or get messy with another soul that needs shaping and reconciliation. Besides, I needed to get back to my dishes.<br />
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I did pray. Neat prayers that pointed God to this idea of supporting in a hands-off kind of way. Here I was, at a point in my life when my husband insisted God continued to tug at his heart in this calling for aiding orphans and I, reluctant to invest in this risk. But I kept praying and God kept working.Lana Shoafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01093055995202178017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2214380839339295545.post-16929943455300135822013-11-01T15:47:00.004-07:002013-11-23T18:03:35.672-08:00Grass and Tears and OrphansAs I mentioned in the previous post, school was in full swing for the Shoafs in the Fall of 2012. I signed permission slips and helped with homework while Tim wrote checks for lunch money to keep our seventh grader, fifth grader, and two first graders going. Again, I worked but felt more in control and less dazed in my second year as a working mom. Tim entered his busy season of spraying and fertilizing lawns. The house was buzzing (well, when we were home).<br />
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One lawn application from that Fall is etched in Tim's memory. I'm sure the lawn is amazing (he takes care of it!), but green grass is not what made the memory books that day. Tim was riding on his spreader/sprayer and listening to Dr. Dobson on his headphones. That's when Dobson introduced a woman named Stephanie Fast. In short Stephanie Fast was born and eventually abandoned and left on the streets of Korea as an orphan. As an adolescent, she was adopted and loved and came to a place in life when she knew that Christ identified with her hurt and accepted His grace given on the cross.<br />
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While Stephanie told her story and Tim sprayed that lawn, God made a connection between Tim and hurting children. Tim cried. No, Tim sobbed in that lawn. He heard the hurt in Stephanie's story and then the redemption of Christ realized. Tim's heart hurt for the forgotten children of the world. He wanted badly to reach a child so that the redemption of Christ could be realized for that child just as it was for Stephanie Fast.<br />
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I remember greeting Tim that night and he just said, "Well, I cried like a baby in a customer's lawn today." I briefly tried to picture this bronze man on a fertilizer spreader with wet cheeks and an ugly cry-face in some guy's yard. Then my thoughts turned to the guy...and the guy's neighbor. Oh, boy.<br />
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Anyway, he proceeded to tell me about the testimony he heard and insisted we sit together on the couch to listen to the radio broadcast together.<br />
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It was good. God is good. Stephanie Fast effectively advocates for orphans in the world today. Tim and I talked briefly about her story and then Tim said, "It just makes you want to adopt....I wonder if we should do that."<br />
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"What? Adopt?" I replied. And Tim just nodded. I thought he was weird.<br />
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All throughout our marriage, I have brought up some pretty crazy ideas. Even ministry ideas that were far-out...sometimes in an incredible way and sometime in the way of impossible. And here was perhaps the craziest idea that had ever been brought up, but this time by Tim. Yes, this was weird.<br />
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"Let's at least pray about it," Tim suggested. And I agreed that praying would be an excellent place to start. So that's what we did.<br />
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Listen to Stephanie Fast's testimony<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kYAsUGHzHkQ"> here.</a></div>
Lana Shoafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01093055995202178017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2214380839339295545.post-35245547573461253162013-09-27T20:04:00.000-07:002013-11-23T17:57:15.117-08:00A Good Beginning (Yikes!)How many times in class have I announced, "You must start with a good beginning!" I teach Language Arts and a good hook is my specialty. But here I am, telling perhaps the best story my life will produce, and I don't even know where to start. Not here. Perhaps this is because to begin this story scares me to death. Perhaps it is because to begin this blog is to formally announce that we have been kicking around the "a" word for a while and it's finally turning into an exciting, risky reality.<br />
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Tim and I have never longed to be part of an adoption story. We've fondly watched friends adopt, even helped them along with their journey. But we have always been content with our little-ish, happy family.<br />
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But that was before. Tim had a run-in with God about a year-and-a-half ago and things have been markedly different around here. The cynical, realist husband that I had become accustomed to transformed into a grounded-in-Scriptures man, recklessly optimistic in his faith. That may sound foolish and a bit out of control, but for our family, it has been downright amazing. Some guys experience a mid-life crisis and haul off to buy a fast car or souped up speed boat. Not my husband. He began questioning his job, his choices, his faith, his identity and it sent him straight to his knees.<br />
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Tim searched for opportunities to grow in his faith. So, when he signed us up to tag along on our church's Haiti Mission Trip last summer, I wasn't the least bit surprised. We had made it through a relatively tough school year, the first year our household contained a "working mom". (I realized quickly during that year that I had misjudged working moms across America...they are amazing women.) We were both looking for more...a purpose and a deeper meaning to the circle we kept running as working parents. The opportunity to travel to a third-world country offered perspective and we longed for a new one. Haiti would be our first brush with poverty, and we only wanted to go if we could experience it together. Our oldest daughter, Ally, was 13 and more than willing to experience this different world, so we signed her up as well. We positioned our world and perspective to be rocked.<br />
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And it was. Tears stung my eyes as I first glanced the rampant poverty Haiti. I specifically remember being picked up from the airport and, while in transit to our mission, witnessed a joyful, waving boy trying to catch our attention from his front porch. Of course, I waved back, but it wasn't until we passed that I saw him lunge atop his porch rail...with no legs. And this was the heartbeat of Haiti. Smiles and laughter and joyful worship in the face of pain, depravity, and so much heat. (Boy, did I ever sweat on that trip!)<br />
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Here's our whole group, clean and shiny-faced before we departed from the church.</div>
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Beautiful! That's what the people in Haiti are...in so many ways. This girl attended the VBS we helped with.</div>
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Watching Tim in Haiti touched my heart. We learned a new way to love others...together.</div>
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During our trip, we were privileged to stay on the <a href="http://www.mohhaiti.org/">Mission of Hope</a> campus which included a school, hospital, and orphanage. In the space where the youngest orphans on the campus lived, I noticed three (or maybe it was two...anyway it was more than one and they stole my heart!) sets of twins among a total of maybe 10 infants and toddlers. When I asked one of the mission leaders about the percentage of twins in Haiti vs. the percentage of twins in the orphanage, this is the response I received: "Twins are different, unusual, and seen as a curse. Not only does it mean two mouths to feed instead of one, but it is out of the ordinary and people here don't think highly of being different."<br />
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Perhaps you don't know my family. Perhaps you don't understand why that statement hit my chest so heavily. I am a twin. I have a set of twins. My twin sister has a set of twins. I have a set of twin brothers. Wow, we are weird! That's a lot of twins. However, being a twin in the United States is cute and a "double blessing" and draws attention like you've won the baby lottery or something. That's the way I had always felt about being a twin...like I was worth more than a million bucks. And these beautiful brown babies were rejected and deemed "too much." The reality hit home...and hard.<br />
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When that seventh day came and it was time to head back to air-conditioning, ice cubes, and my ever-loving Wal-Mart (I am so American), my heart ached for the children we were leaving behind. Not because I thought our Wal-Mart could fix their problems, but because I wanted to know they would be tucked in at night with a kiss, told Bible stories about Moses and the burning bush, and loved in a way that reflected God. I wanted the twins and all the toddlers in the orphanage to feel like a million bucks. The mother in me wanted to nurture their souls, but instead I left...something these orphans were all too familiar with.<br />
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And that was it.<br />
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I came home, kissed my three other kids, and thanked God for the abundant life He had given us. I thought often about the orphans and we talked about when we could go back to see them. But that was all. My world had been rocked, but "home" gently nudged my ideals neatly back into place. School started again, as did our crazy life and schedule, and the orphans became adorable photos and fond memories.<br />
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But God had something else in mind. Enter my blinded-by-faith husband looking for a way to create an eternal difference in his world and feeling the clock ticking. He started praying for God to open a door for us to make an impact and one by one we saw them open.<br />
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The following posts are my effort to capture our journey to adoption. I've begun. Sorry about the weak beginning, BUT I'VE BEGUN, PEOPLE! I'm feeling better already getting this all out and organized. So next, will come the middle. That's where all the conflict happens; that's where the story really gets interesting. (Too bad I have no clue what the middle will even contain.) And the end, well the end seems far away. I'm sure it will be too quick in coming, exciting with long lulls, scary and funny, precious and sad, and joyfully chaotic all at the same time. I don't know where these posts will lead. All I know is that God is up to being His awesome self and I can't wait to write the unfolding of His story for our family.<br />
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<br />Lana Shoafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01093055995202178017noreply@blogger.com0