Sisters!

One of my deepest prayers for Dayna and Annie is that they grow up with a special sister bond. Our first six months together haven't always been the smoothest, and Annie has required a lot of attention and care that used to belong to Dayna alone. There have been many opportunities for sister squabbles - broken toys, ripped books, scribbled schoolwork, hair pulled, skin pinched. And yet these two don't get into it. Dayna has been a doting older sister who is always finding fun activities for the girls to do together. Annie happily obliges. And although these sisters are as different as the sun and the moon, the sound of their giggles and the sight of their smiles warms my heart.

Nebraska City Photo Dump 2

Nebraska City Photo Dump 1

Yup...more pictures! Last Friday Dayna and I didn't have school, so Dan took the day off and we all went to Nebraska City for our annual Apple Day and family pictures. The weather was perfect, but maybe a bit too sunny for great photos. Nonetheless, it was a long-anticipated day to just kick back and enjoy each other again.

Vala's Photo Dump 2

On the hayrack ride before the camera battery died

Dan's October second home

Annie didn't love the pumpkin pictures so much

But Dayna did!

She was finally big enough to ride these alone

Enjoying a train ride with Daddy

Yes...they're usually this happy to be with each other

Vala's Photo Dump 1

Another year has come and gone at the Pumpkin Patch. Once again, Dan has a blast driving the train and the rest of us enjoyed the family pass to visit whenever we wanted. Which meant we were at the Patch a LOT!

Dayna 2006 - post palate repair

Dayna 2013

Annie 2013 - post palate repair

Enjoying the pig races

Dan likes this picture

Double-Edged Sword

(Warning...opinionated mother thoughts ahead.)

I know I've talked about fundraising for adoptions before. It seems to be a hot-button issue in the adoption world. In the one camp, you have people who adamantly insist that if you can't afford to adopt, you shouldn't. In the other camp, you have people who can very well afford to raise another child, but might need a little help raising the money for plane tickets and agency fees. Both camps feel strongly. Both camps have some valid points. And my bottom line is that if someone feels led to generously give, it's not my place to deny them the blessing. Likewise, I'm not going to ask virtual strangers to finance my family's life change. When it comes to fundraising, I like to see some sort of product given in return (such as the sale of an item.)

But in the midst of all the vocal people (mostly adoptive families) who are adamantly against fundraising, I also see feel-good articles about adoption. On these articles, 80% of the people commenting say they'd love to adopt if they have the money. (For the record...you DON'T have to be rich to adopt...we certainly aren't. And there are great grant organizations and other non-profits that will help you find ways to pay those fees and travel costs.)

So the message I'm seeing is that you should only adopt if you have money. Hang on...when did children finding families become about money?

There are a lot of things that we were able to give up. Our girls go without a lot of things their peers have. But our girls have a family.

Please...can't we all stop throwing our stones and focus on more important things?

Another Chance

This isn't one of those blog posts that anyone wants to write. Honestly, I'm not even sure where I'm going with this. I've been sitting on it for about a week and was finally able to shed some tears this morning.

Sometimes God allows you to see the fruit of labor done for Him years down the road. Sometimes, you'll never know.

So this is the story of two boys. Not really their stories, but stories told through the lens of how I saw and knew them.

Tyler was a funny kid. A bit of an imp. The kid who kept me on my toes and left me shaking my head when he left the classroom. But he was also an angry kid. His parents had just split up. His dad was across the country. And he was 8 years old. I averaged 700-800 students a year. It's hard to develop relationships that way. But Tyler was different. I signed up to be his mentor. We spent a lot of lunch periods together. We talked about his parents. We talked about school. With his mom's permission, we talked about God. We would go out to Burger King after school sometimes. Or bowling. Or my favorite...Dairy Queen. I remember a good, solid 20 minutes of nothing but giggles over soft serve. I don't think he ever spoke a word. Dan got involved, too...we took him canoeing, geocaching, and even to a Drum Corps show. Tyler later became very involved in music...even became the drum line captain for his high school marching band.

A few years back, Tyler invited us to his graduation open house. I hadn't seen him in 8 years...and yet he enveloped me in a huge bear hug and told me, "Mrs. Wilson, you saved my life!" (Now...I take NO credit for this...God used me to build a relationship with a special young man...He did the rest of the work.) He credited his love for music and later involvement in band with giving him the solid friends and work ethic he needed to become a man. He credited Dan & I for fostering that love at an early age. Needless to say, I still think the world of Tyler.

The other young man I had the privilege of mentoring was Chance. He was another second grader. The kind with a big cowlick and gentle brown eyes. Chance also came from a broken home. I don't know all the details. We only had a few months together. Then one day (right before the holidays, as I recall) he left school with someone who didn't have permission to take him. The police were involved. A search ensued. Chance was found. It was an ugly custody situation, and he never came back. The last I heard, he transferred to a school in a suburban district. I've spent the last 13 years wondering what happened to him.

Until last week. A simple news article on my Facebook feed. I almost didn't click it. I don't go for stories like this. A body was found and identified as a young man who was missing for almost 2 years. The name looked familiar. The picture still haunts me. Others see a hardened criminal covered in tattoos and piercings. One who died after a car accident while fleeing police. A drug dealer. Meth addict. A rap sheet a mile long. Nothing more than a thug. A loser. A two-bit car thief. (Descriptions written in comments on various articles.)

I saw Chance. The big brown eyes of a boy who trusted me. A kid who fell through the cracks. I wonder what happened in the 11 years since I saw him last and the date of the car accident. How did he become so broken? Why did God allow this? Who was there to catch him when he was shuffled around?

I don't feel guilt...there's absolutely nothing more or less that I could have done. But I am left wondering...and hurting...and questioning God. I don't think I'll ever know on this side. But if he was special to me, wasn't he even more precious to God?

I've lost students. Some to accidents. Gang activity. Drugs. Illness. It's never easy. But somehow, memories of Chance will always haunt me. And the irony of his name is not lost on me.

So while the rest of the area has let this news article come and go...with their quick-to-judge statements...I choose to remember that sweet brown-eyed boy. And wonder who God will use me to touch next.