Something More

Today I am going to share something with you that I said I wouldn't. We had planned to keep Tadesse and Biruk's past mostly a private family thing for their protection. However, they have been very forthcoming about those details to many people. This is a good thing since it helps us all to deal with what they have been through.

Tadesse and Biruk were orphans not because their parents died but because they were given up by their mom Alem. She did the most loving thing she could do by getting them into a safe place with food and where they would have opportunity. Alem and Tadesse and Biruk's sister Yeshiwork are alive and living in the small town of Wuchale, in northern Ethiopia. (Yeshiwork was not given up for adoption.)

Jerome and I have told Tadesse and Biruk that we will go back to Wuchale sometime, that we will try to find their mom* and sister so they can have a reunion. At first, this seemed to scare Tadesse. Now that he understands that he is an American and would only be visiting, he can hardly wait to go. First, though, we need to wait for them to be thoroughly attached to our family in America. (If you want to go with us, start saving your money. I can't imagine how wonderful it would be to take 20 Americans to a place that needs so much help.)

Tadesse's mom is never far from his thoughts. Over the past few weeks, he had a few dreams that are so telling of where his heart is. One was that he was Superman and saved Alem from being stabbed by bad guys. Another was that he rode into Wuchale on a horse, and he handed out $50,000 to people who needed money for food. Then Sunday he showed Jerome and me this picture that he drew of a robot:

Jerome said, "Tadesse, what can your robot do?"

Without hesitation, Tadesse replied, "This robot can save my mom."

Remember the blog I wrote while in Ethiopia about the thought that we needed to do something more, that we needed to think about all the people left behind? We feel more than ever that we can't pull our two sweet boys out from that beautiful mountainside village and forget about the people still there.

We cannot send Alem money, though that seems like a logical thing to do. It's ethically questionable (and raises red flags for international adoption) because it would look like we paid her for these two precious boys. But we can do something more. We can somehow help that community.

Enter the chicken coop.

Biruk asked for eight chickens. Don't ask me why he wants chickens! He's eight. Little boys like livestock, I guess. So Jerome ordered 70 chickens. With the gift of an old shed on skids from Jerome's mom and dad, this chicken coop is going to be pulled around our farm, and Biruk is (supposedly) going to do all the chores. I think I am the crazy nut getting stuck with washing the eggs. While most American boys would be seeing dollar signs, Biruk just wants to contribute to the farm.

As Jerome and I thought about it, we decided that this may be a way for the boys to help their old hometown. When I brought up the idea of getting donations for Wuchale, Biruk's eyes lit right up, and he said, "For the old people?" Of course, I asked about the old people, and Biruk said both old people and babies die in Wuchale due to hunger.

My boys have seen way too much.

I can't help but hope that my boys will sometime have a Joseph-like experience, where they can see their loved ones, old friends, and even old bullies again and provide them with basic needs so they will not go hungry. I hope by then they can articulate that it is not because they are wealthy Americans. I hope that they can deliver the message of the Gospel to those who haven't heard it, and tell them that they have returned because of their faith and God's calling on their lives.

For now, we are trying to figure out what the community's specific needs are so we can ascertain what would provide the most practical assistance. Perhaps it is a well or clean water, or maybe it's food that we can get directed there. Friends, here's how you can help: besides buying a dozen eggs from Biruk occasionally, you can pray for us until that something more becomes clear. We know God always has a plan. We just want to find our place in it.


*We don't bother calling Alem the "birth mom." We just tell Tadesse and Biruk that they have two moms—one in America and one in Ethiopia.

And As for the Silence...

The house is quiet. I woke up this morning to Jerome lumbering out of bed at 6:30 to go feed the cattle. No one had knocked tentatively on our door like Elijah does, no one had woken at 5:30 and stomped heavily all over the kitchen floor like Tadesse does, and no little boy was luxuriating in a long, groggy sleep like Biruk does. We just had silence.

I rolled over and blissfully read another chapter in my John Grisham book, and then I got ready for church in  a  record 17 minutes. No one hollered my name. No one asked me for breakfast. No one needed help finding socks or matching clothes.

As I pondered this, I realized that this is the life we would be living right now if everything had gone as planned.

There would have been no "Surprise! I'm pregnant!" as an announcement for Elijah's entrance into our lives. There would be no hustle of activity to get our house and our hearts ready for two Ethiopian boys to meld into our family.

There would be no dirty fingerprints all over the wall.

There would be no broken recliner.

There would be no uproarious laughter in the kitchen as one watches cartoons.

There would be no competition over the iPad.

There would be nagging for Dad to go sledding in the middle of the workday.

Schedules would be clearer. We would have no rule about food and drinks being consumed on the new carpet. As we climb into our old Suburban on the way to church this morning (if we would have a Suburban at all), we would be thinking about how many Sundays we have left until Kaylee leaves the house.

We wouldn't have funny moments like this.

Or this.

Or this.

Or even embarrassing times like this.

Today, again, I am thankful for a God who sometimes seems to laugh at our plans, but also to Him who lures us out of our comfort zone to participate in His bigger plan. Even though our lives could have been easier, they wouldn't have been nearly as much fun. Just look at what we would have missed!