Red Letters Campaign- More On the Food Crisis in Ethiopia

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Red Letters Campaign- Hope for the Hopeless

Julie hosted a gathering for Grafted Tree and a few other folks from various churches. All told there were 5 churches represented in that meeting. Surefel came to meet face to face with people who have a heart to get their churches involved in supporting his work.

Kim and Brooke shared pictures and video from their trip to the Hope for the Hopeless facilities. They vouched for the spiritual discipleship happening there and how the children are flourishing because of it. Each of us there talked about the ways in which we plan to help raise funds for the orphanage.

We were able to gather around Surefel and pray over him. He wept. He is planning to return to Ethiopia in September. He plans to "crusade" in outlying regions. He extended an open invitation to any of us who would desire to go at any time.

There is always a need for people to sponsor children. We are working on a Grafted Tree website which will showcase available sponsor children and have the ability to accept donations for Hope for the Hopeless. In the meanwhile, if you are interested in sponsorship you can email me at Jslongier2@cox.net

Red Letters Campaign- Because One Post On The Subject Is NOT Enough

I am freaking out. Thinking about it constantly. We are now number one! I am wondering how long we will have to obsess about getting The Call. Dustin called me several times just to make sure I wouldn't forget to call him. LIKE I COULD!!!!

Today for the first time in the whole process I experienced the jitters every time the phone rang. I stalked the AWAA YG to see if more referrals had come out, and one had. Another family received a referral for a precious baby girl. I twittered to let friends know I was freaking out. I posted on Facebook to share the excitement, ran over to congratulate Rebecca and, of course, posted here.

They calls are done for the day, I'm sure. No news about whether any more referrals can be expected anytime soon. We'll just be hoping and praying and waiting and FREAKING OUT.

HAHAHA the phone just rang and Rienne shushed her sisters saying, "it could be the phone call!" She's got the bug too!!

Not Far To Go

Rebecca and Zack received their referral for a boy today. We are thrilled for them!

We are next in line for a boy under two years old. I can't believe it's so near. I don't know how long we'll occupy this slot but it sure is exciting to be here.

Red Letters Campaign- An Amharic Service

Kim called me and asked if I wanted to head over to Pastor Surefel's church on Sunday. It would be Netty's first time to be surrounded by Ethiopian culture since arriving home. Dustin didn't mind so I said "Yes!"

I've been looking forward to going for some time. In fact, I was so excited to go I stayed up all night praying. I wasn't praying merely about going but that excitement drove my all-nighter. While I was in prayer Saturday night God gave me two words. I knew they were Amharic. Had NOT A CLUE what they meant. I thought I should ask Surefel but I would feel a little embarrassed if it turned out to be my overactive imagination or something I ate that night.... though that was just fear and double mindedness creeping up in me once more. I knew God had spoken to me and I felt there would be a gift for me in pursuing an answer to what those words meant.

Upon arriving at the Central Methodist Church (the Methodist Church Hosts Pastor Surefel's church) in downtown Phoenix, Kim and her precious family with myself in tow headed to the little Pioneer Chapel where about 20 adults and numerous children worship the Lord Jesus Christ under the teaching of Pastor Surefel in an all Amharic service. Music had already begun.

We walked in and were greeted warmly with big smiles and deep nods. Space was made for us to sit. Soon we stood swaying with the rest of the congregation and clapping to the beat. The music was beautiful and worshipful. It was very repetitive which made it easy for us to pick up on a few words. We sang the words we recognized; "Hallelujah" and "A-meu-seu-ge-nal-lo" (I've spelled it like my Amharic Phrase Book gives the pronunciation... is "Thank You"). Netty did some dancing and clapping. It was a joy for me to be able to hold her for a while and spend more time with her.

Surefel invited "Sister Kim" to the front to introduce Netsanet to the congregation. They listened intently. He made sure to point out the rest of our group in the back of the room.

Surefel is the most gentle spirited man I think I've ever met. He's speaks in tones barely above a whisper. yet, when the man began to read from the Word of God his voice became loud and sure. He ignited in a furry of activity which included pointing to heaven repeatedly, eyes shifting an earnest gaze from person to person and utterances of Amen after points of particular interest. I couldn't understand much! But I was enthralled. His passion came across no matter what language he spoke and "Christos"........ I knew that word. He was calling on Christ's name.

As Service was over we were offered dabo (bread) in large fresh chunks. It was a spicy sweet bread. My little chunk was extremely filling as much Ethiopian cuisine is. Everyone gathered in small chatty groups eating their dabo and connecting with their friends. Buna (coffee) was brewing.

Before we left Kim said, "Hey, don't you have something you want to ask Surefel about?" yes, she had busted me. By that time I had lost my nerve and was willing to slink out of there without finding out what the two words meant.

I walked up to Surefel nervous and insecure when I asked him in a hushed voice that they meant. He told me HOPE and FLOWER. I couldn't hold back the tears when I heard this. I tried to turn and walk toward my car after saying thank you but Surefel had already asked Kim if they should pray over me and quickly he grabbed my arm. That's when all three of us began crying and I felt trembles run up and down my limbs. Surefel thanked Jesus for being my hope and for making hope flower once more then he said a few other things which were lost to me in his thick accent laced with tears. After the quick prayer was finished he repeated Amen a few more times as he swept the tears away from his eyes. By this time I had completely fallen apart and tears had run everywhere. Kim looked the same. (there's nothing like a dear sister who's willing to get her face all jacked up in public to pray over you!) So we hot footed it out of there so as not to cause any more scene than had already been made.

On the way back to the car Gary, Kim's husband, reminded us that Surefel's orphanage is named Hope for the Hopeless and it's located in the city named new flower in Amharic. I can't wait for the opportunity to visits the children st Hope for the Hopeless as Kim and Brooke have done and to meet the child the Lord has gifted me and Dustin with the privilege of parenting.

A while back I told the Lord that I would be watching for Him like a watchman on the wall. Looking for Him to reveal the culmination of His work behind the scenes regarding the adoption. I would look for the signs that things were wrapping up and that the fruit of all He had been working on through this process was coming to bear. Our time to travel is coming. He renewed my hope. Thank you Jesus.

Red Letters Campaign- Famine

I hate hearing this news. Yet, I cannot turn away from it.

Oh, I hate it so!

Congratulations and Moving Up

I've posted before about how Dustin and I started off in the El Salvador program. I met a really sweet woman named Lisa in the El Salvador YG (Yahoo Group) at the time. Needless to say God redireted me and Dustin to the ET program and Lisa and I lost touch. THEN, come to find out later on that God had also directed Lisa and her husband to Ethiopia as well. Needless to say, it's a very precious thing for us to be able to rejoice alongside Lisa and her husband Ray today as they just received a referral for their son Jonas. Head on over and congratulate them for me, will ya?

This leaves only one more precious family in line ahead of us. Rebecca is also a lady I adore. She and her husband are now #1 in line. Rebecca and her hubby are first and next comes.......... You guessed it folks... US!! It's my hope that Dustin and I would have the chance to meet these two families in person. Preferably travelling to pick up our kiddos together!! I pray our referral comes close to these two so we can score a travel date with them.


Please pray for us. This level of anticipation is almost unbearable, and yet we must bear it in patience. Dustin and I trust in God's timing and resolve to honor Him even if waiting longer is a part of His plan. Lisa's referral has made the idea of our own referral being within reach. It feels more possible now than ever and that idea has me walking around in a day dreamy state. I need the fog to lift from my brain so I can live life in the space between longing for our son and the reality of referral time.

Major No-No

I have a confession to make. I made a HUGE mistake.

For those of you who don't know my husband personally you'll just have to take my word for it when I tell you that he has a favorite hat (You can see him wearing it in this post here. I don't even know what the hat would be called for sure... news boy cap? Who knows. If you do know please enlighten me.) It's not just an ordinary hat, as Dustin would tell you himself. It was made in Scotland and it belonged to his great grandfather who gave it to him while he was still alive. The same great grandfather who graces the wall of our hallway in a large print of the above photograph taken when he still owned his pumping station. There he is smoking a cigarette leaning right on the fuel pump giving the camera a wink. Mr. Safety himself. He died shortly after Dustin and I were married.

The hat has some major history for me and Dustin. He was wearing it the night I first ever laid eyes on him and he sure looked handsome to me!! I loved the hat, too, and the history that went along with it (even if over the years I've grown to see that hat worn with many an outfit I didn't necessarily think it matched with.... minor details.......)

Well, folks I accidentally went and washed the hat. It was mixed in with all the clothes that were in the suitcase and I never noticed it when I was sorting the clothes into the laundry baskets. Did I mention it was a 100% wool cap? YUP. Now it fits Ally's head. She looks pretty cute in it actually. I've taken to calling her Oliver Twist when she's wearing it. And, of course, I am trying to teach her to say , "Please, sir, may I have another?" in her best English accent, which is pretty entertaining and all, but somehow I don't think it makes up for the major loss Dustin has experienced.

When he discovered the shrunken mess he walked in and calmly stated. "you shrunk my hat. Aren't you even going to say sorry?" I was thinking it was simply another one of his ba-jillion baseball caps with our company logo on it. No big deal, go grab another from the stash. I thought.

"No! Who cares!?"

GAAAASSSSSP! A look of shock went over his face. The betrayal!! The horror! "What kind of woman is she anyway?" He must have thought.

When it finally dawned on me that it was THE hat we were talking about I felt terrible. I don't think I've groveled nearly enough yet. Poor husband.

Like a Freight Train

When I was younger we lived in a neighborhood near Midway Airport in Chicago, in an apartment off a very busy street next to train tracks. This was at a time when the tracks were on the ground. Later, after we moved away, the tracks would be lifted from the ground and made into the El-way for passenger trains. I am unsure if freight trains still travel on the ground through there anymore, but they did when I was a kid.

You can imagine those apartments weren't the most peacefully quiet place to live, between the airplanes barely catching enough air to clear the rooftops, the constant flow of traffic on the street and the trains running past. Literally, there was the track, some gravel, a narrow parking driveway, and then, the front door of our apartment. The distance between the two had to be 50 feet TOPS. I have to say, though, that living near the railroad made for some interesting childhood experiences. A lot of Barbies and GI Joes were decapitated by our play group.

I remember how the tracks would begin to vibrate when a train was in the distance. The sound of the clack, clack, clack would start off so faint and grow louder and louder. As the train neared the lights would begin flashing on the red and white striped road barricades and the dinging bells would ring. Clack, clack, clack the train would keep moving unwavering from it's course while the conductor blew his ear piercing horn. I always felt a huge rush of excitement as the cars zipped past me in a dizzying furry, whirling the air around me.

I am reminded of that same feeling of anticipation and excitement today.

I've heard the clack, clack, clack of the wheels gliding over the rails ever so faintly this week with the news of 5 referrals being handed out through our agency. I was shocked to look at my little tracking list and find out that Dustin and I are further ahead in "the line" [a] than we had imagined. According to my records[b] there are really only two other families ahead of us in line who are requesting a child that would fit into the same category as the child we are requesting and would therefore go ahead of us for a referral. All others are requesting children older than we are or a siblings group or girls. This means that our referral could come very soon.

My pulse raises just a bit at the thought. Butterflies begin fluttering around in my tummy. As the sound grows nearer I begin to anticipate the rush. There is a sort of nervous energy radiating around me and Dustin. To come near us is to be touched by it. We're trying our hardest to contain our emotions but it's SO hard. The girls sense it too. They've asked a few questions about who's gotten a referral and when it will be our turn. We are all wondering when will the referral train roll on through our home and who is the child coming down the tracks with it. Only time will tell.

............. In the mean while clack, clack, clack, clack






[a]The line is something unto itself and could possibly require another whole post just to explain it's intricacies. Just know that it's not like waiting for your food in a fast food joint. Being number one doesn't mean your order will get "filled" first. A family must wait until the child who meets the sex/age requirements becomes available. As kids become available for adoption they are matched with families. Both the child and family have to be a fit for each other. By it's very nature the line is unreliable and can only be used for approximation.

[b] According to my records there are two other mystery families ahead of us in line. We don't know who they are nor the sex/age range of the child they are requesting so they have the potential to be ahead of us making us 5th in line for those requesting a male child 2 years or younger.

The Strangest Thing

I think I may be the world's cruelest mother. Why you ask? Because I laugh at my kids. I don't mean to but sometimes they do the funniest things. Things that make me go hmmmmm........ and then I bust up laughing.

Today Rory ran into the room in a semi panicked state. In a split second I noticed that something about her looked different. Hmmm, I thought, "She has a bit of an Asian appearance to her all of a sudden." Upon closer inspection I realized that, really, it was only her right eye which appeared more slanted than usual.

"Mom, something's in my eyelashes." she chirped while waving her hands,"and it hurts"

"WHAT happened?"

"I was making jewelry with Rienne now my eye hurts and I can't blink"

People, there is absolutely no way I can successfully describe the mess that she had gotten herself into....... but that won't stop me from trying.

The kids have this jewelry making kit which has a tool that spins in a circle with a brush on it for buffing items. It seems Rory had leaned her head close to get a good look at what she was doing when somehow her hair became caught in the tool which spun it around and around. The hair became twisted. After the hair twisted enough it began kinking back on itself and somehow it wound itself around a big bunch of the eyelashes on the top corner of her eye which then tugged at her eyelid pulling it to the side. Every time she blinked the hair would tug at her eye lashes threatening to yank a large clump of them out. HONESTLY, how does that happen!?

I began laughing out loud which upset Rory because she was still in quite a predicament and feeling panicked. I would have taken a photo to share with you (is that sick of me?) but I figured I should help her right away. I ran and grabbed my shears and snipped the hair. Then using my nails I was able to work the knot off the ends of her lusciously long lashes. Thank goodness she didn't lose those lashes or she would have looked really silly until they grew back in.

All throughout this ordeal I had to try hard to fight the urge to laugh uncontrollably. Rory would look at me with her wide eyes (well, her one wide eye) and a silly bewildered smirk on her face (she's always the one who has to join in when someone is laughing) and let a few giggles slip despite her discomfort.