I alone cannot change the world, but I can cast a stone across the waters to create many ripples. – Mother Teresa
Thoughts from mom on the day to day lives as a family.
What can make our family dance around as if it is Christmas morning?
A package from the States!
New English books to share with students (and enjoy ourselves!) candy corn, chocolate chips, craft supplies = Christmas in November at the Williams’ house! You should have seen the wonder on the faces of Soccer Dude and Roo when they found copies of beloved books that had to be taken out of the last suitcase because it was overweight.
Thankful.
I sat in our Sunday gathering watching a family sitting in the pew several rows ahead of our gang. Two parents and four boys, three white one brown. Why did tears spring to my eyes as I watched them? Our community was celebrating Orphan Sunday and literally sitting in front of me I was seeing one of my pr@yers for an orphan being answered. He no longer is an orphan. He is soon to be a son.
I wrote about my dear student several months ago. I poured my grief and heart out in that post thinking that he had little chance as an older boy of finding a family. You can read it here. What did I know?! Gd is the Father to the fatherless with a plan for my friend.
My pr@yers for him and his new family continue. There is a long road ahead of them – paperwork, social work visits, fees to be paid. I would appreciate you lifting them up as well. May Gd provide in miraculous ways for this family who has stepped forward to claim this little guy as their son.
See?! Great Orphan Sunday!
As if my heart could handle any more…one of the workers gave a report from the local orphanage. My heart leapt with joy knowing that soon I will be joining the work there. I have a meeting with the director on Tuesday to hear what their hopes are for my role there. Pr@y for wisdom (and for my Chinese!) There is much work that could be done, and not enough time for me to do all that my heart desires. Maybe I shouldn’t just ask for wisdom, but for a clear mind. My heart can get in the way and I very willingly would bring 90 children home with me. (Hubby thanks you for your pr@yers!)
Part of the report was a list of requests from the staff at the orphanage. If you feel led, this is how you can pr@y:
Also they are trying to get approval for “drop boxes” to be set up in the city. These “drop boxes” would be heated safe locations where parents could anonymously drop off infants. This would be much better for the children, who often aren’t found quickly and can be exposed to cold.
Just a little secret between you and I…since seeing my pr@yers answered for my student, I have boldly started asking for 49 more children from this orphanage to find families. I know He is able. Thank you so much for joining us. It made a difference for my friend and I know it will for the other children as well.
Let me close today with a video about Orphan Sunday. Couldn’t say it better myself.
Francis Chan For Orphan Sunday from Christian Alliance for Orphans on Vimeo.
When first told that we were moving back to Asia, our 11 year old threw his arms over his head in an air pump fit for a ball game. The excitement faded as we packed, said goodbyes and the reality of another move sunk in. I began to worry. But, I never should have doubted the One who called us to move.
The first week in our new home we were invited to eat at the home of some dear friends we have known since our first days in Asia. Soccer Dude and their son, the same age, are great buddies. As we approached the front gate of their apartment complex, Soccer Dude’s friend was waiting at the gate. He held in his hands the wave board Soccer Dude had given him when we left three years earlier. A gift of a wave board and the offer of a friendship to be picked up right where it had left off. Gd’s provision through the generosity of a 6th grader.
In the past 2 months, I have been deeply moved by generosity that has come in many different forms. Each has been a reminder of my Heavenly Father. He has whispered His presence and provision into my heart through His people.
Family who worked tirelessly to help us pack, move and clean out our house….knowing as they worked they were helping us to move so far away. How do you measure that type of support and generosity?
Teenage sisters making a commitment to give toward our work along with countless others who are giving and pr@ying so that we can be here.
A box of hand-me-down clothes for Little Man.
A single mom offering to mail art supplies for the orphanage.
A gift in cash that was the perfect amount for us to buy bunk beds for our kids.
Offers of used books for our English lending library.
I seriously could go on and on. But maybe just one more story from this week.
A family, who has collected Thomas the Train toys for their children and carried them to China over the years passed them on to Little Man. Not only was Little Man thrilled, but as I home schooled – with a three year old completely occupied with a train set – again I felt Gd reassuring me that He is providing for us in big and small ways.
I am overwhelmed. Humbled. Blessed.
All this generosity has gotten me really thinking. Being a generous person really is a way to share the Good News with others. If I see Gd in generous people then I am sure if I were to be more generous I too would have a way to share Him that I haven’t fully tapped into.
I want to be known as a generous woman.
So I am making a list of ways to live out a deeper life of generosity….more than just money, but with sharing what I have, with my time emotions and energy.
Starting with my family.
I want my kids to see JC in me and what better way then to be generous with them. Let the dishes sit in the sink and read Go Dog Go one more time, leave emails unanswered so that I can play a game of Monopoly, take in one more drink of water to the sleepless one when all I want to do is sit on the couch with my book.
Pr@ying that each small act of generosity will show my kiddos who controls my heart and life. As I master it with my family, I also think it will become more natural with my neighbors and my community. This could be big.
So the 6th grader who so warmly welcomed Soccer Dude….his mom didn’t leave out the other kids. A wagon was shared with Little Man and craft supplies with the girls. There is something to that. Generous parents impact their children to be generous. This could be deep. Maybe the title of this post shouldn’t just be that I want to be a generous woman….it should be…I want to be generous so that my children become generous and we all impact the world for JC. (Shoot that doesn’t fit on the title line.)
Thank you all for spurring me on to be more generous. May Gd richly bless you for all that you have given and done.
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Writing a post about my birthday doesn’t hold the appeal that a post about my growing children. Cute photos and paragraphs about their new antics flow easily. This year is different somehow, maybe it is because I am closing in on 40. (Our secret, okay?!)
As my birthday came and went I have been contemplative. It seems half-way-ish, you know? I can’t hep but realize that life isn’t where I thought it would be. Now, that could be taken as a negative statement, but actually I am finding peace in the fact that my plans are not Gd’s plans. (I know, I know, a lesson that I am not Gd could have been mastered earlier in my life!)
Put my birthday together with a move back to Asia and you get a mish-mash of thoughts by an older Tammy who suddenly has realized that I am right where I want to be. Never pictured myself as a homeschooling mother of four and I wouldn’t have thought I would be living in a city of a million people…again. Yet here I am.
Loving it.
With all the imperfections that come along with it.
When I turned 28 I went out and chopped off all my hair. I mean really cut it off. I came home and shocked my sweet husband who swore he liked it. Still not sure about that. I kept thinking that I was almost 30 and I wanted to be and do something radical. Everyone told me that I looked like my mom with short hair. Not really what I was going for.
It has been ten more years. Not sure that I am really living some radical life and I guess I wouldn’t say that I have found the perfect job, location, or mission. But I am living my dream at thrity-achem (That was my attempt to spell a throat clear in case you didn’t catch that.) even if that dream doesn’t look like what I imagined as a college student or as a twenty something.
I am learning that no age, no situation is perfect, but Gd is in control. I can embrace that and make it my passion or pine for something else. Getting old enough to realize that if I don’t embrace what He is giving me then I am going to miss out on everything.
Celebrating another year by eating a crazy fancy Chinese birthday cake with fake peach filling. Excited that I am living out my dream in the center of Gd’s will for me…one day at a time.
I read somewhere that to be a mother is to have your heart walking outside your body. Can’t think of a better way to describe how I feel as I watch the kids navigate life. I had to gulp down a lot of emotion as they started international school this week. We are homeschooling in the morning and they are joining the other students for the afternoon where they are learning Chinese and enjoying “specials” like art, music and PE.
Roo, our social butterfly, was ready to jump right in and Soccer Dude had friends from when we lived here before so he was looking forward to meeting up with them daily. Little Monkey…well she is our shy one and did not want to go. It was a bumpy start, but by day two she came home all smiles and telling me about her new friends and proudly showing me the paint on her sleeve from art classes. Phew!
Their school is about a 30 minute bus ride from where we are living on the university campus where hubby is teaching. I say “about” because the first day we attempted to take the kids to school it took us an hour. Two buses flew by our stop. I was not a happy camper waiting on the curb with four kids all who were anxious to get to their new school. Day two it took 15 minutes to get there making them very early. Welcome back to the predictability of public transportation! All part of the adventure.
So where is Little Man in the midst of all this? The first day we all went to help the kids get settled. He was running down the hall of the school yelling, “help me! Where is my class?!” Very safe to say that he is in the extroverted camp and I need to treasure every afternoon of playing trains and reading books I get this year. He will be ready for pre-school when he turns four!
Hubby also had his first day of class. I think he may have been as nervous as his dark eyed daughter! He came home with stories of not having enough time to finish his lecture based on American literature. Doesn’t that just sound like a professor? He is teaching 5 class periods with about 40 students in each class. We are busily setting up a lending library in our apartment and planning open houses and english corners. Excited to see how the semester unfolds.
Over all a good week of many firsts….oh wait, it is only Wednesday. Kinda feel like I have lived a whole week the past three days. Sending the big kids to afternoon school and l am going to lay down and take a nap with Little Man.
A little old lady sat across from us on the public bus. “You have four children?” I smiled and replied which began a stream of statements and a question. “Two look like you. Two don’t. All four of them are your children?” I again explained that yes all four children are mine. I asked her about her children, now all grown and working at a university in a different city. “Your children” she began again, “two have blonde hair, two have black. Those two look the same the other two look alike.”
It became amusing to watch her try to put all the pieces of our family puzzle together. I silently wondered how long to let her worry the facts and when to explain. Adoption is as foreign to some people here as Hubby’s red hair. Even when we tell them our two youngest children are ours through adoption, they do not understand. We have joked that people would understand and believe it more if we told them when you live in America children come out looking American, when you live in China they come out looking Chinese!
Although there have been many conversations similar to our chat with the sweet lady on the bus, we have been pleasantly surprised. We came expecting negative remarks towards adoption. A common phrase is “throw away children.” We of course want to guard Little Monkey and Little Man from that idea which could harm their identity and self worth. I was ready with much affirmation and quick replies in the case of a conversation turning toward hurtful words. But I wasn’t expecting folks to simply not understand the idea of adoption. What a different conversation to have, but I must say we talk more about our “large” family rather than about adoption.
The word we hear the most while out and about….”four?”
Having four children is almost as surprising as us not looking all alike. Because of the one child policy, most Chinese families have one child. To see a mother on a bus with four children in tow is a sight to behold. It puts all my good graces to a test. Nothing like an entire bus watching the antics of my children and how I parent them. You could pr@y for me when you think of that. I would appreciate it!!
So, the Chinese words that I have used most in the ten days we have been back in China. “yes, four!” I need to learn the phrase “How blessed am I!” 🙂
I vividly recall waiting in a Chinese hotel room. I had just jumped out of my skin when the phone rang telling us that our new daughter was in the lobby and on her way to our room. I panicked trying to decide if I should hold the video camera, pull out a gift or just sit and stare at the door. Those few moments felt like a lifetime. I wanted to shout for joy, cry out of despair and throw-up from the mass amounts of emotion rushing through my body. Those moments were just as painful and exhilarating as the birthing moments of my first two children. Our family was about to be one more. I held my breath.
Thinking back on that day brings tears even now, three years later. My heart broke that day and grew to a capacity that I can not explain. My Little Monkey pressed me into a better person able to love in ways I never knew possible – that is the miracle of adoption.
The nannies that brought her to me would not recognize the girl dancing through my kitchen today. Her long hair flying behind her as she laughs and twirls teasingly away from her little brother. I almost could forget that she hasn’t always been here. Gone are the sad haunting eyes. She now is a six year old who loves life and ponders the meaning of everything. Just recently she asked us “Could God make a fish that is to heavy for him to hold?” Stunning. That is all I can say about this girl and who she is becoming!
It might seem funny to celebrate the day she joined our family by going roller skating. But a day hanging out as a family enjoying each other and just being thankful – perfect. Well almost perfect. As we chased each other, held on tight so we wouldn’t fall and teased Hubby for being so clumsy – I couldn’t help but feel like something was missing.
There is always an empty chair at our family celebrations…for the family we can not see but whom we are forever connected. They are missing and my heart aches for them. Somewhere there is a woman who must be hilarious, eager to help, beautiful and agile – where else would my sweet Little Monkey get these traits? There is a man who is courageous, strong yet shy. I see him in my little girl. I even wonder about siblings. I guess an empty chair isn’t enough…I feel like there is a roomful of people who are missing out on celebrating our girl. Maybe some day…
For now, we celebrate what we know. Three years. Three amazing years. Thankful for every moment and looking forward to the rest of forever.
Happy family day, Little Monkey!
Thrilled to have an Asian woman in the spotlight – talented, well-educated (in Michigan to boot!) just the type of woman I appreciate my daughters seeing succeed. History was made by the first Indian-American being crowned Miss America, but the spotlight quickly shifted. It became clear racism is alive and kicking in the United States as a flood of hateful tweets focused on the heritage of the winner.
“Miss America? You mean Miss 7-11.”
“I swear I’m not racist but this is America.”
Or my personal favorites were the tweets calling her Arab and making statements like:
“And the Arab wins Miss America. Classic.”
You can read a whole list of tweets here. Be aware the language is stiff.
Backing up a few years…I was picking Little Monkey up from pre-school at the beginning of the year. The moms hanging out in the hallway were still getting to know each other. One mom asked me – “Which child is yours?” Now, I had already been down this path before and learned to cut to the chase. If I say, “the girl in pink,” the poor soul who asked continues to search the room not thinking to connect me to a daughter who looks so different from myself. So I say – “the Chinese one.” (Yes, that year she was the only Asian in her class. That is a topic for a different post!)
On that day, it was my turn to be surprised. The mom who asked gave me an earful when I told her my child was the Chinese-American. “Well, I teach my children not to label based on ethnicity!! We play with, love and accept everyone….well except the Arabs who live down the street from us. I won’t let them play with Arabs! Anyway, just maybe you should think before labeling your child.”
Wow. I seriously was speechless. I mean what can you say after that?
Just putting it out there….my child is Chinese-American. I love that. It is part of what makes her her and it shapes our family in beautiful ways. Pretending that our family looks like every other family or coming up with unique non-labels is ignorant to the reality that ethnicity matters and should be talked about.
It was disheartening to read the comments after Miss America was crowned, but I am hopeful. Maybe, just maybe folks will see that racism is still an issue and more conversations need to be had about ethnicity.
I have the spiritual gift of packing. It might not be listed in the book of Corinthians – but I am sure it is a legit spiritual gift. Joking aside, moving 9 times in the last 14 years might have something to do with my ability to pack up a house. Moving across town, in 4 different states and 4 international moves – we have done it all.
Even with all of my packing experience this move still does seem a bit overwhelming. With each additional child it seems to get a bit harder…Or that is what I want to say. But honestly, for our last move I used the “rake it into a box” method and got rid of NOTHING. I am paying for that now. I distinctively remember putting a box of half used wrapping paper bits into the moving van. I knew that was nuts. A dear friend who was helping me pack even called me out on the silliness – but I stubbornly held on to bits of paper. I am not really sure why.
There is nothing like a good international move to help me simplify my life and really evaluate my treasures. Seriously do I need this many pairs of shoes? Where did all of these books come from? If it is called a junk drawer then I probably don’t need anything that is in it.
Crazy how stuff can creep in and take over areas of my heart that they have no business owning.
So I am not just packing. I am getting my heart in order. I am cleaning out what doesn’t belong so that there is room to do something meaningful. As I put my hand to the task, I have four Littles watching. We all are fitting our lives into 12 suitcases – but we are reminded that even with that amount of belongs we are better off than 90% of the world. Humbling.
Now, don’t go painting me as some holy saint. I was just eating a bag of chips with nacho dip (comfort food) as I decided what shirts to purge from my closet. I haven’t figured this whole thing out yet, but one step box at a time I am getting there.
I really don’t want to be thought of as a person with a gift for packing. Instead I am asking Father to help me to have the spiritual discipline of living simply and trusting only in Him.
We are back at it. This year we are tackling 6th, 4th, and 1st grades along with plenty of pre-school fun to keep the Little Man occupied.
Soccer Dude: 6th grade
Favorite subject: History/reading
Goal this school year: to learn how to train a parakeet.
Roo: 4th grade
Favorite subject: Math and Art
Goal this school year: to learn to play piano
Little Monkey: 1st grade
Favorite Subject: out loud reading with mom
Goal this school year: to be able to read a chapter book
Little Man: 3 years old
Favorite subject: cars (the movie and matchbox)
Goal this school year: to be so cute he distracts the rest of us from doing school work! 😉
Let the games begin!
Casting A Stone 