Tuesdays are very full. Tuesday is the day the vision clinic is open to the general public, and the night that we teach our English-outreach children's Bible class.
Tuesdays are also like the late February of the week. The time when all my "New Year's Resolutions" for a new week smack up into the reality of just serving Ramen noodles for lunch, and convincing myself I don't really have to wash the towels yet.
Tuesday's are the days I struggle most with the reality that wanting to "be a worker for the Lord" means your feet are going to hurt and that folks don't get the nickname "the least of these" by being charming.
Tuesdays are all too often the days that I don't want to do the things the calendar tells me it is time to do. Tuesdays are the days I struggle most with a grumpy attitude of selfishness.
Tuesdays can stink.
I mean this literally. The kids who come to our Bible class are among the poorest in the city. When your house is plastic, your floor is dirt, and you have only a few changes of clothes, being clean is not simple. There are some super cool kids we've known for years, and some wild free-range kids, who we are just getting to know. They are neat and special. But not necessarily easy to be around, and some are decidedly stinky.
Visitors to the vision clinic are also quite a cross section. Some have traveled from very rural places, others have just wandered in from the market. Some are acutely aware of their vision needs and are seeking specific solutions. Others are mainly bored and lonely and just looking for compassion in any form. Some are grateful and gracious and kind. Some are rude and demanding and frustrating. And some are very very stinky.
James 2 talks so specifically about our worldly tendency to struggle with loving the unlovable. Our trouble overcoming the urge to ignore and shoo away the stinky in favor of those who speak and act in more acceptable, familiar, comfortable ways.
James 2:2 For example, a man comes into your meeting wearing a gold ring and dressed in fine clothes, and a poor man dressed in dirty clothes also comes in. 3 If you look with favor on the man wearing the fine clothes and say, “Sit here in a good place,” and yet you say to the poor man, “Stand over there,” or, “Sit here on the floor by my footstool,” 4 haven’t you discriminated among yourselves and become judges with evil thoughts?
This Tuesday as I sat beside a very poor "campesina" (country peasant) trying on various pairs of glasses I was reflecting on these verses. I was quoting them to myself in some mixture of exhortation and self-congratulation...
"Wow. My understanding of this chapter is so practical and tangible. It IS harder to give the same attention to this very smelly very dirty woman than it was to that clean professional worker a few minutes ago. And of course, it's not just the physical things--she is so reticent to speak, so clearly uncomfortable, but I am being patient and understanding. I obviously need to keep working on all this, but I am really getting a chance to practice not showing favoritism in concrete ways and while I may be struggling a bit with it, I AM doing it. So, that's a first step, right? I am probably way better at this than a lot of people I know who would not hide their sentiments as well as I am. I mean, we all know we shouldn't value this smelly dirty lady less, but it's hard not to let that show. And after all, I am sitting right here with her, hugging on her and everything. Yep. I'm pretty awesome."
That's when it happened.
She left.
But the smell didn't.
Yea--that's right. That horrible dirty person smell was me.
I'd been congratulating myself for putting up with...myself.
Sometimes Tuesday stink. And I am the one who is stinking them up.
It shouldn't surprise me. He tried to tell us:
1 John 1:8 If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us.9 If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness. 10 If we claim we have not sinned, we make him out to be a liar and his word is not in us.
Luke 6: 42 How can you say to your brother, ‘Brother, let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when you yourself fail to see the plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.
Monday, August 31, 2015
Sunday, June 7, 2015
Fruits of the day: Guayaba and Guanabana
Now, a few very astute readers may be suspicious that I am recycling an old post. But no, dear readers, guayaba and guanabana are not the same as guaba and guava. (at least in the vernacular used around here). You know, except for like all the letters and stuff. For a refresher on guaba and guava...click here.
Guyaba grow on a tree in our yard, and are a favorite of several kinds of colorful birds and also some impressively large fruit bats. All of this makes it tough to every find a ripe one to actually eat. Which is fine, because the ones in our yard are very tiny and often fairly wormy. There are larger, prettier ones for sale along roadsides at the right times of year. Which it is.
 |
| a larger, prettier guayaba |
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| a tiny guayaba from our yard that is predominately worm-free |
And then there are guanabanas. Most of the guanabanas I find around here are roughly canteloupe sized, but I hear they can be 10 to 15 pounds. I have purchased them before on roadsides, but they're a relatively soft fruit, and don't enjoy rolling around in a vehicle very much. That's important to our story, because in previous taste tests I was never sure how much of the flavor and texture I was experiencing was a result of heat and generally smashing... but the ones I found here, were lovely and perfect.
 |
| a lovely guanabana specimen |
 |
| some rather battered guanabanas |
Ah texture. Jonathan and I have a friendly running debate about the role of texture in foods. He maintains that texture is not a component of flavor, while I say over-ripe mangoes feel like wet gauze in my mouth and that's nasty.
Texture is definitely something you are going to notice with guanabanas. The family of fruits that they belong to often contain names that include "custard". And if you have been paying much attention you will notice that when things are described as "custard-like" it's usually a nice way of saying "reminds me of eggs and over-aged dairy".
Which brings us to the smell....
Why do so many tropical fruits smell a little bit delicious and a little bit like warm trash cans at an amusement park?
Yep. Again with the custard.
The first bite is surprisingly light and sweet. It reminded me of those really cheap flavored drinks that used to come in flats of plastic bottles with a pasted-on aluminum foil lid. No matter what color you picked, it was labeled "tropical fruit punch" and had this kind of banana-pineapple-lime-plastic- lingers after you've swallowed flavor. It's really rather nice. Although after three or four mouthfulls, I was focused again on the "custardy" qualities and all done with that snack.
The rest of my tasting team, however, loved it.
Two sticky sets of fingers finished that puppy off as fast as I could pick out the seeds.
Monday, May 18, 2015
Spring Update
Monthly Update:
God has smiled on me; He has set me free; God has smiled on me; He’s been good to me.
I hardly know where to begin but to tell you that I know I may have missed a month somewhere. For that I apologize. The work here continues and fatherhood, while I believe it agrees with me, has changed many, many things - as only those of you who have experienced it in this particular suddenness can relate. More on that later.
We are thankful as blessings continue to increase:
We have moved into a new home with an additional living space, bedroom, bathroom, laundry room and rent.
We have purchased a used car. Typical for Nicaragua it is a 15 year-old Toyota, diesel, 5-speed and 4X4. The turbo 4 cylinder gets close to 40 mph. It is solid and hopefully will last a long time.
The family adjustments, while increasingly more challenging are not surprising and we have been able to keep a step ahead of these changes.
We have found homes for all six of the new kittens and they have all gone to friends who will allow “The Two” to check up on them occasionally.
Challenges continue as well, and I think we are supposed to be thankful for them, too, but that is really hard:
I am missing this time with family and friends in the States. It seems like these big changes in our lives should be shared with you but due process dictates otherwise.
Sheila and “The Two” have been sick but seem to be cleared of it at this point. So I take my turn. Nothing major same old, same old – cough, breathing issues and the like. I’m sure if I were in the States I would just go to Fuddruckers - for medicinal purposes, of course.
The mission work is busier than ever and we should be having a brief respite.
After flying out of the gate like gangbusters in the adoption process we have hit a more realistic stride, which seems interminable. Due process…
Personally, I find myself physically and mentally ready for the onslaught of summer, but emotionally am not there yet.
Vision screening is continuing at a slower pace.
The days of 500 pairs of eyes a day are past for the time being. Currently Misión Para Cristo is associated in some way with about 35 schools. The vast majority are very small (20-40 students each) and are fairly remote. So we are working to visit all of them, which is time consuming and rewarding in a different way. It is also difficult for children who receive a referral for follow up and glasses to get to Jinotega to be reexamined, glasses ordered and subsequently picked up. I take the mobile equipment to schools on Wednesdays and Sheila continues to open the local clinic on Thursdays. Included in this process is the installation of a new inventory system that will streamline our process significantly once it is fully at our disposal. These are both areas we once worked together, but “The Two” have resulted in needing more availability in our schedules.
Vision by the numbers, March & April 2015:
Schools: 616 students and teachers screened, 47 referred, 24 pairs of glasses purchased
Mobile Clinic: 82 children screened, 4 referred
MPC Clinic: 45 adults screened, 12 referred, 101 pairs of used glasses dispensed.
Recently I had the opportunity to screen the vision of the students at the Max Senqui Special Needs School. We identified many vision correction needs, especially among the Downs Syndrome students. It has been a pleasure as they come in to show off their new glasses.
Children’s Programming
Sheila and I continue to work in various aspects of program development with the Nicaraguan churches. Consider this: have you ever tried to teach someone the value of teaching with a live skit when they have never seen one? This is the typical challenge we face. Teachers here know only one thing: Sit in a desk – that goes for school, church, waiting rooms, etc. From that point it is either color a picture or copy off the board – if they have one. They are literally scared to try anything new.
Figure 1: The Days of Creation in order game.
Figure 2: Sheila teaches with the aid of translator Amada.
We had the opportunity to teach about 45 people, representing a dozen or so congregations, methods in teaching Bible stories that do not require paper/copies. They were stunned. Felipe, one of the leaders of a group I work most with reported this: “I learned so much. This is a fun way to do things. Why didn’t you tell us this sooner?” Another leader from the group said, “For two weeks it has run more smoothly than ever before. The children are engaged and more interested than before and the group leaders are enjoying what they are doing even more.”
Continued adjustment for “The Two” (Okay, really it is for all four of us.)
We knew when we began to pray about this adoption process that the chances of it being a quick, simple ordeal would be slim to none. We have had our bumps as we look back on the first three months as a family. We recognize that these are the first of many. We know that God, time and counseling will help these two precious souls, whom God has chosen specifically for us, receive the best we are able to provide. It is a long road ahead, but we are comforted in knowing we are not alone on the journey.
This week we will celebrate “the boy’s” 6th birthday with a piñata, some friends, a cake and the Avengers.
The Two are adjusting and receiving counseling as one would expect. Sheila and I are adjusting also – maybe even more. We covet your prayers more than ever. Wisdom. Grace. Mercy.
We had our first home visit last month and expect another anytime in the next two months. Now, we wait some more. The subsequent visit will either say additional time for adaptation, or prepare the way for signing final legal documents. Due process…
I usually list a laundry list of the things for which we want to celebrate as blessings from God and what is needed for us. This month I am simply going to ask that you lift up Sheila, “The Two,” and me, as we continue to grow together. I ask that you thank God for the success we have experienced so far, for the future as it unfolds, and the capacity to lay it at the feet of the Master as He prepares us all to not only face the challenges that anyone raising children faces, but to excel as we conquer our “situation-specific” opportunities.
God has smiled on me; He has set me free; God has smiled on me; He’s been good to me
God has smiled on me; He has set me free; God has smiled on me; He’s been good to me.
I hardly know where to begin but to tell you that I know I may have missed a month somewhere. For that I apologize. The work here continues and fatherhood, while I believe it agrees with me, has changed many, many things - as only those of you who have experienced it in this particular suddenness can relate. More on that later.
We are thankful as blessings continue to increase:
We have moved into a new home with an additional living space, bedroom, bathroom, laundry room and rent.
We have purchased a used car. Typical for Nicaragua it is a 15 year-old Toyota, diesel, 5-speed and 4X4. The turbo 4 cylinder gets close to 40 mph. It is solid and hopefully will last a long time.
The family adjustments, while increasingly more challenging are not surprising and we have been able to keep a step ahead of these changes.
We have found homes for all six of the new kittens and they have all gone to friends who will allow “The Two” to check up on them occasionally.
Challenges continue as well, and I think we are supposed to be thankful for them, too, but that is really hard:
I am missing this time with family and friends in the States. It seems like these big changes in our lives should be shared with you but due process dictates otherwise.
Sheila and “The Two” have been sick but seem to be cleared of it at this point. So I take my turn. Nothing major same old, same old – cough, breathing issues and the like. I’m sure if I were in the States I would just go to Fuddruckers - for medicinal purposes, of course.
The mission work is busier than ever and we should be having a brief respite.
After flying out of the gate like gangbusters in the adoption process we have hit a more realistic stride, which seems interminable. Due process…
Personally, I find myself physically and mentally ready for the onslaught of summer, but emotionally am not there yet.
Vision screening is continuing at a slower pace.
The days of 500 pairs of eyes a day are past for the time being. Currently Misión Para Cristo is associated in some way with about 35 schools. The vast majority are very small (20-40 students each) and are fairly remote. So we are working to visit all of them, which is time consuming and rewarding in a different way. It is also difficult for children who receive a referral for follow up and glasses to get to Jinotega to be reexamined, glasses ordered and subsequently picked up. I take the mobile equipment to schools on Wednesdays and Sheila continues to open the local clinic on Thursdays. Included in this process is the installation of a new inventory system that will streamline our process significantly once it is fully at our disposal. These are both areas we once worked together, but “The Two” have resulted in needing more availability in our schedules.
Vision by the numbers, March & April 2015:
Schools: 616 students and teachers screened, 47 referred, 24 pairs of glasses purchased
Mobile Clinic: 82 children screened, 4 referred
MPC Clinic: 45 adults screened, 12 referred, 101 pairs of used glasses dispensed.
Recently I had the opportunity to screen the vision of the students at the Max Senqui Special Needs School. We identified many vision correction needs, especially among the Downs Syndrome students. It has been a pleasure as they come in to show off their new glasses.
Children’s Programming
Sheila and I continue to work in various aspects of program development with the Nicaraguan churches. Consider this: have you ever tried to teach someone the value of teaching with a live skit when they have never seen one? This is the typical challenge we face. Teachers here know only one thing: Sit in a desk – that goes for school, church, waiting rooms, etc. From that point it is either color a picture or copy off the board – if they have one. They are literally scared to try anything new.
Figure 1: The Days of Creation in order game.
Figure 2: Sheila teaches with the aid of translator Amada.
We had the opportunity to teach about 45 people, representing a dozen or so congregations, methods in teaching Bible stories that do not require paper/copies. They were stunned. Felipe, one of the leaders of a group I work most with reported this: “I learned so much. This is a fun way to do things. Why didn’t you tell us this sooner?” Another leader from the group said, “For two weeks it has run more smoothly than ever before. The children are engaged and more interested than before and the group leaders are enjoying what they are doing even more.”
Continued adjustment for “The Two” (Okay, really it is for all four of us.)
We knew when we began to pray about this adoption process that the chances of it being a quick, simple ordeal would be slim to none. We have had our bumps as we look back on the first three months as a family. We recognize that these are the first of many. We know that God, time and counseling will help these two precious souls, whom God has chosen specifically for us, receive the best we are able to provide. It is a long road ahead, but we are comforted in knowing we are not alone on the journey.
This week we will celebrate “the boy’s” 6th birthday with a piñata, some friends, a cake and the Avengers.
The Two are adjusting and receiving counseling as one would expect. Sheila and I are adjusting also – maybe even more. We covet your prayers more than ever. Wisdom. Grace. Mercy.
We had our first home visit last month and expect another anytime in the next two months. Now, we wait some more. The subsequent visit will either say additional time for adaptation, or prepare the way for signing final legal documents. Due process…
I usually list a laundry list of the things for which we want to celebrate as blessings from God and what is needed for us. This month I am simply going to ask that you lift up Sheila, “The Two,” and me, as we continue to grow together. I ask that you thank God for the success we have experienced so far, for the future as it unfolds, and the capacity to lay it at the feet of the Master as He prepares us all to not only face the challenges that anyone raising children faces, but to excel as we conquer our “situation-specific” opportunities.
God has smiled on me; He has set me free; God has smiled on me; He’s been good to me
Friday, April 24, 2015
Well, that's a first.
This month has been full of firsts.
First time tying shoes.
First solo side-ponytail.
First word read.
And our first home visit.
It came during our first family sickness.
On a day when there hadn't been water in our house for at least 36 hours.
Visualize it for a minute.
Nobody's been cleaning up--we've been in the house for 3 days coughing and lazying around. There are corn flakes encrusted on the table, lonely socks dangling from the backs of chairs,
stuffed toys and blankets tangled around empty juice cups, DVD cases in a steadily growing dusty pile.
Mopping? Certainly not.
Dishes? All dirty. ALL. Did you know you can give cough syrup via spatula?
And then the phone rings: "We'll be there tomorrow morning. We'll talk and take some photos."
Photos? Can you imagine?
So we gathered up every large container we could find, drove to the mission and filled them with water, and proceeded to try and clean things up the best we could. Including our unshowered selves
And, yes, I absolutely did hide the dirty dishes in a suitcase. Another first.
First time tying shoes.
First solo side-ponytail.
First word read.
And our first home visit.
It came during our first family sickness.
On a day when there hadn't been water in our house for at least 36 hours.
Visualize it for a minute.
Nobody's been cleaning up--we've been in the house for 3 days coughing and lazying around. There are corn flakes encrusted on the table, lonely socks dangling from the backs of chairs,
stuffed toys and blankets tangled around empty juice cups, DVD cases in a steadily growing dusty pile.
Mopping? Certainly not.
Dishes? All dirty. ALL. Did you know you can give cough syrup via spatula?
And then the phone rings: "We'll be there tomorrow morning. We'll talk and take some photos."
Photos? Can you imagine?
So we gathered up every large container we could find, drove to the mission and filled them with water, and proceeded to try and clean things up the best we could. Including our unshowered selves
And, yes, I absolutely did hide the dirty dishes in a suitcase. Another first.
Monday, March 30, 2015
simply the best
Adopting older children has some very specific challenges. But there are also some amazing and unique blessings. Among those: the freedom to brag unashamedly.
You know, most parents have to navigate a fine line---bragging on how great my kids are can be misconstrued as saying how great I am..."Look what awesome humans I have created and trained!" But as adoptive parents of older children, who arrive in our home with a sense of who they are--we are free to tell about how neat they are, without fear of self agrandizement.
Yesterday, as Jonathan was waiting at the school for classes to be released, a woman approached him requesting assistance with school related expenses. He explained, that while the Mision does have a program to help with those costs, the budget for uniforms had already been exhausted for the year, and most of the school supplies had already been distributed. She pressed, "But I just need one notebook. Even one notebook would help." Before Jonathan could even respond, our son jumped in, "I have one that only has one used page, you can have it!" and proceeded to rip open his backpack, remove the one written on page and smilingly hand her his notebook--one of the few possessions he brought with him when transitioning to our home. What a beautiful heart!
I am sure every parent acknowledges that the beauty we see in our children is merely a reflection of God's spirit in them, and no work of our own hands. But in our unique circumstance, raising kids who are not the "do-it-yourself-kit", it is so much more obvious.
For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
Psalm 139: 13-14
You know, most parents have to navigate a fine line---bragging on how great my kids are can be misconstrued as saying how great I am..."Look what awesome humans I have created and trained!" But as adoptive parents of older children, who arrive in our home with a sense of who they are--we are free to tell about how neat they are, without fear of self agrandizement.
Yesterday, as Jonathan was waiting at the school for classes to be released, a woman approached him requesting assistance with school related expenses. He explained, that while the Mision does have a program to help with those costs, the budget for uniforms had already been exhausted for the year, and most of the school supplies had already been distributed. She pressed, "But I just need one notebook. Even one notebook would help." Before Jonathan could even respond, our son jumped in, "I have one that only has one used page, you can have it!" and proceeded to rip open his backpack, remove the one written on page and smilingly hand her his notebook--one of the few possessions he brought with him when transitioning to our home. What a beautiful heart!
I am sure every parent acknowledges that the beauty we see in our children is merely a reflection of God's spirit in them, and no work of our own hands. But in our unique circumstance, raising kids who are not the "do-it-yourself-kit", it is so much more obvious.
For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
Psalm 139: 13-14
Saturday, February 28, 2015
Two weeks
Two Thursdays ago, we were granted custody of some beautiful people. We are now in a time of "adaptation" that should culminate in the legal process of "adoption". Officially, from a paperwork point of view, the process has just begun. Emotionally, from a bonding and healing point of view, the process has just begun. And yet, in some difficult to articulate way--there is a feeling of completion rather than initiation. There is some deep sigh of the heart finally at rest. There is some "click" of everything at last lining up in it's correct place.
How can it only be two weeks?
Two weeks ago, we had a special "meeting" to talk about what a family is. We clinked milk glasses, and signed pretend signatures to papers agreeing to work on being a family. Jonathan and I talked about what one, first "rule" or expectation did we need to present--just one thing to focus on for safety's sake. So at this special "meeting" we practiced Rule #1: "When we call, you come." As the week progressed, we gradually saw the power of our response to their calls as well. The phrases that have been said most often in our house these last few weeks are "Aqui estoy!" and "Me voy!" ("I am here!" and "I am coming!")
As I shout these words hundreds of times daily through bathroom doors, and from under piles of blankets, and across playgrounds, it is so clear to me, that I am not merely answering these little people, I am quoting scriptural promises.
From Genesis to Jesus final words at His ascension, The Book is full of God calling back to his insecure children, " I am with you." "I am coming."
These little ones need so much reassurance that these new parents of theirs can be counted on. And I will tell them a thousand times, " I am here." " I am coming."
Just as my Father keeps reassuring me every time I forget, or let fear take hold:
He is with me.
And He is coming.
How can it only be two weeks?
Two weeks ago, we had a special "meeting" to talk about what a family is. We clinked milk glasses, and signed pretend signatures to papers agreeing to work on being a family. Jonathan and I talked about what one, first "rule" or expectation did we need to present--just one thing to focus on for safety's sake. So at this special "meeting" we practiced Rule #1: "When we call, you come." As the week progressed, we gradually saw the power of our response to their calls as well. The phrases that have been said most often in our house these last few weeks are "Aqui estoy!" and "Me voy!" ("I am here!" and "I am coming!")
As I shout these words hundreds of times daily through bathroom doors, and from under piles of blankets, and across playgrounds, it is so clear to me, that I am not merely answering these little people, I am quoting scriptural promises.
From Genesis to Jesus final words at His ascension, The Book is full of God calling back to his insecure children, " I am with you." "I am coming."
These little ones need so much reassurance that these new parents of theirs can be counted on. And I will tell them a thousand times, " I am here." " I am coming."
Just as my Father keeps reassuring me every time I forget, or let fear take hold:
He is with me.
And He is coming.
Monday, February 9, 2015
Timing
During my first week as a student at Harding University, I heard someone say, "I've known her a couple of months, but they were 'Harding months'. It was the first time I had heard someone express this shared sense that at this stage of our life time was flowing differently. The beginning of our marriage was another wacky time when it felt like we were packing decades of "big experiences" into weeks and months. (got married, moved, changed jobs, moved again, took in foster kids, took in those kids' parents, family deaths, changed jobs again, foster kids returned to family, moved again)
Neuroscientist David Eagleman explains it like this:
The more detailed the memory, the longer the moment seems to last. This explains why we think that time speeds up when we grow older,—why childhood summers seem to go on forever, while old age slips by while we’re dozing. The more familiar the world becomes, the less information your brain writes down, and the more quickly time seems to pass.
While not the first time I've felt this way, the past month has been an amazing example of this phenomenon. The calendar reminds us only a few weeks have passed, but they've been great big long ones--and it seems the coming weeks may be even bigger.
We returned from (what we thought of as) a whirlwind time in the US on December 13. We were settling in for some slow times, some waiting. We knew there wouldn't be many visiting groups to the mission for a while, we knew most government agencies and other organizations would be on holiday and in the reflective new year planning season. We saw this as a time to work on all those big projects that get shuffled to the back burner when things are hectic, and a time to focus on hospitality and relationships. The next few months were clearly going to be the sort that slip by all too quickly.
We worked on glasses inventory, planned for children's bible programs, delivered "smile boxes", sorted through boxes of donations, organized school supply distributions, and had various kids/teens parties at our house twice a week.
Then on January 13, precisely a month after our return to Nicaragua, we were sitting at our dining room table with two case workers from MiFamilia completing our adoption home study. I can't express how surprised we were with the timing. We delivered our paperwork to the ministry of families the day before we flew to the states in November, and based on the 20 months that it took to establish residency with the immigration department, we expected to settle in for a long wait before there was any action. But one week after dropping off an updated form, the case workers were asking folks around town their impressions of us.
Those same case workers explained the next steps in the process to us. They will prepare our report, it will be evaluated by the adoption council at their next monthly meeting. (*note that in this case "monthly" means they meet once during a month not necessarily that they meet every month). At that point, we will be given an appointment to come to Managua and find out if our application is approved or denied. If approved, our names go into the pool of families waiting to be matched with adoptive children. The case workers advised that the timing for this matching process is generally between six and eighteen months. After that comes an in-home adaptation period and if affirmed by the council, the legal process of formalizing an adoption can begin.
So, excited about this progress we returned to our projects, settling in for the first of many coming wait-ings to find out if we might be approved.
>>>>Now, I just have to insert that "waiting" has such a negative connotation to many people, but I find it kind of comforting. I think I am good at it. To me, waiting signifies that your actions/decisions are not needed. Your part, for now, is done. I like that feeling. Maybe that means I'm super-spiritually patient. Maybe that means that I'm far too lazy. Maybe it means that I am deeply indecisive. (Yeah, O.K., I know, it's not the first one.)
Just 23 short days from the home study a phone call came:
"Will you accept two children?"
"Will you come to Managua on Monday?"
These last few days have been long and passed slowly. Not just because we are too excited to sleep at night. There is so much to do, and think, and feel packed into so few hours. What happened to the waiting?
And suddenly it is Monday. We met with the ministry of family (who are sooooo nice!) and heard the case file on some precious little ones. In less than an hour we were headed across town to the shelter to meet them.
After a little while with balls, dolls and swings, the counselor and case worker were explaining that papers granting us permission for an off site visit were complete. Lunch, playing, sight-seeing...the day was a whirlwind of play-dough and giggles and french fries and getting to know you questions.
And already, rather than feeling like the first day we met, it feels like the first night we are apart.
We dashed back to Jinotega to gather some clothes and make sure things are in order. Tomorrow we will head back to Managua for several days of visiting, followed (we all hope) by bringing these beautiful young hearts home.
During this period of adaptation, before the legal parts of the adoption take place, we will be tempering our excitement and desire to share every detail in order to protect the privacy and identity of P. and J. We hope you will use any moments of curiosity for details as a reminder to pray for these two very special and loved little ones.
Neuroscientist David Eagleman explains it like this:
The more detailed the memory, the longer the moment seems to last. This explains why we think that time speeds up when we grow older,—why childhood summers seem to go on forever, while old age slips by while we’re dozing. The more familiar the world becomes, the less information your brain writes down, and the more quickly time seems to pass.
While not the first time I've felt this way, the past month has been an amazing example of this phenomenon. The calendar reminds us only a few weeks have passed, but they've been great big long ones--and it seems the coming weeks may be even bigger.
We returned from (what we thought of as) a whirlwind time in the US on December 13. We were settling in for some slow times, some waiting. We knew there wouldn't be many visiting groups to the mission for a while, we knew most government agencies and other organizations would be on holiday and in the reflective new year planning season. We saw this as a time to work on all those big projects that get shuffled to the back burner when things are hectic, and a time to focus on hospitality and relationships. The next few months were clearly going to be the sort that slip by all too quickly.
We worked on glasses inventory, planned for children's bible programs, delivered "smile boxes", sorted through boxes of donations, organized school supply distributions, and had various kids/teens parties at our house twice a week.
Then on January 13, precisely a month after our return to Nicaragua, we were sitting at our dining room table with two case workers from MiFamilia completing our adoption home study. I can't express how surprised we were with the timing. We delivered our paperwork to the ministry of families the day before we flew to the states in November, and based on the 20 months that it took to establish residency with the immigration department, we expected to settle in for a long wait before there was any action. But one week after dropping off an updated form, the case workers were asking folks around town their impressions of us.
Those same case workers explained the next steps in the process to us. They will prepare our report, it will be evaluated by the adoption council at their next monthly meeting. (*note that in this case "monthly" means they meet once during a month not necessarily that they meet every month). At that point, we will be given an appointment to come to Managua and find out if our application is approved or denied. If approved, our names go into the pool of families waiting to be matched with adoptive children. The case workers advised that the timing for this matching process is generally between six and eighteen months. After that comes an in-home adaptation period and if affirmed by the council, the legal process of formalizing an adoption can begin.
So, excited about this progress we returned to our projects, settling in for the first of many coming wait-ings to find out if we might be approved.
>>>>Now, I just have to insert that "waiting" has such a negative connotation to many people, but I find it kind of comforting. I think I am good at it. To me, waiting signifies that your actions/decisions are not needed. Your part, for now, is done. I like that feeling. Maybe that means I'm super-spiritually patient. Maybe that means that I'm far too lazy. Maybe it means that I am deeply indecisive. (Yeah, O.K., I know, it's not the first one.)
Just 23 short days from the home study a phone call came:
"Will you accept two children?"
"Will you come to Managua on Monday?"
These last few days have been long and passed slowly. Not just because we are too excited to sleep at night. There is so much to do, and think, and feel packed into so few hours. What happened to the waiting?
And suddenly it is Monday. We met with the ministry of family (who are sooooo nice!) and heard the case file on some precious little ones. In less than an hour we were headed across town to the shelter to meet them.
After a little while with balls, dolls and swings, the counselor and case worker were explaining that papers granting us permission for an off site visit were complete. Lunch, playing, sight-seeing...the day was a whirlwind of play-dough and giggles and french fries and getting to know you questions.
And already, rather than feeling like the first day we met, it feels like the first night we are apart.
We dashed back to Jinotega to gather some clothes and make sure things are in order. Tomorrow we will head back to Managua for several days of visiting, followed (we all hope) by bringing these beautiful young hearts home.
During this period of adaptation, before the legal parts of the adoption take place, we will be tempering our excitement and desire to share every detail in order to protect the privacy and identity of P. and J. We hope you will use any moments of curiosity for details as a reminder to pray for these two very special and loved little ones.
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