There are few things we can count on in this world. All the uncertainties of life, at times, may seem so overwhelming that it would be easy to "throw in the towel". On the flip side we need to ask ourselves the question of where would we be today if people that had tried to do something of importance just quit after the first unsuccessful attempt. We wouldn't have any electricity, air travel, businesses, Coca-Cola (ha), hope for a better life, etc....
You might be sitting there in the midst of a struggling process in becoming adoptive parents, but don't hang up your gloves just yet. There is hope. You're not out of this fight yet. Your final round is coming and you're going to come out victorious! Now, I'm not offering you false hope, but heart-felt encouragement to continue to run your race. Finish strong and be of good courage! We are here with you in this journey; you're not alone.
Cling to the hope that in a short while you will finally be holding that child in your arms that you have just rescued with the power of love. An offering of time and patience will return to you a gift of life! So, never say never. Your hour is quickly approaching, and when it does we want to be the first to celebrate with you! Send us your stories, testimonies, and pictures of your "miracle"! Remember, you're not alone....ever.
J.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Teleseminar!
Hey guys, go check out this teleseminar on The Insider's Perspective on The Adoptive Family!
Our friends at peaceofmindparenting.com are putting it on!
Just click HERE!
Thanks,
J.
Our friends at peaceofmindparenting.com are putting it on!
Just click HERE!
Thanks,
J.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
The Dying Child
It's not hard to see that all around the world children need the love of a family. From the onslaught of war, famine, trafficking, disease, and abandonment there's a huge gap where our next generation is falling into. There is a responsibility resting on our shoulders as human beings to step up to the plate and take ownership of this mandate. This mandate was set in motion by our forefather's who came to this nation to right which was wrong. We have only fallen back into a place from which they tried escaping. It's the crime of apathy, and self-gratification that has hurled us back into a world where all we consider is ourselves. The time has come for us to see things shift back to what is true and take back the time we have lost.
There are cchildren in our own cities that are broken and dying without hope for a brighter future. They long for the kiss of a mother's soft lips or a strong shoulder of a father to cling to. This is our responsibility as humans. Are we not concerned for the hurting infants of this day and age? Are we not moved to tears by the cry of a hurting generation? We must tend to the beat of our own heart hearts that are telling us to go. Go towards that cry. Go running with arms spread wide and embrace the lonely ones. The process may be great, but the reward even greater. Listen to these words from a great author who understood loneliness and pain, but in the end found comfort in the love of a mother who he saw as an angel....
The Dying Child
Mother, I'm tired, and I would fain be sleeping;
Let me repose upon thy bosom sick;
But promise me that thou wilt leave off weeping,
Because thy tears fall hot upon my cheek.
Here it is cold: the tempest raveth madly;
But in my dreams all is so wondrous bright;
I see the angel-children smiling gladly,
When from my weary eyes I shut out light.
Mother, one stands beside me now! and, listen!
Dost thou not hear the music's sweet accord?
See how his white wings beautifully glisten?
Surely those wings were given him by the Lord!
Green, gold, and red, are floating all around me;
They are the flowers the angel scattereth.
Should I have also wings while life has bound me?
Or, mother, are they given alone in death?
Why dost thou clasp me as if I were going?
Why dost thou press thy cheek so unto mine?
Thy cheek is hot, and yet thy tears are flowing!
I will, dear mother, will be always thine!
Do not sigh thus – it marreth my reposing;
But if thou weep, then I must weep with thee!
Ah, I am tired – my weary eyes are closing –
Look, mother, look! the angel kisseth me!
By Hans Christian Andersen.
May you be spurred on to bring that glimmer of hope to a child's eyes and may you be challenged to once again shift things back into perspective! Be filled with grace and strength!
J.
There are cchildren in our own cities that are broken and dying without hope for a brighter future. They long for the kiss of a mother's soft lips or a strong shoulder of a father to cling to. This is our responsibility as humans. Are we not concerned for the hurting infants of this day and age? Are we not moved to tears by the cry of a hurting generation? We must tend to the beat of our own heart hearts that are telling us to go. Go towards that cry. Go running with arms spread wide and embrace the lonely ones. The process may be great, but the reward even greater. Listen to these words from a great author who understood loneliness and pain, but in the end found comfort in the love of a mother who he saw as an angel....
The Dying Child
Mother, I'm tired, and I would fain be sleeping;
Let me repose upon thy bosom sick;
But promise me that thou wilt leave off weeping,
Because thy tears fall hot upon my cheek.
Here it is cold: the tempest raveth madly;
But in my dreams all is so wondrous bright;
I see the angel-children smiling gladly,
When from my weary eyes I shut out light.
Mother, one stands beside me now! and, listen!
Dost thou not hear the music's sweet accord?
See how his white wings beautifully glisten?
Surely those wings were given him by the Lord!
Green, gold, and red, are floating all around me;
They are the flowers the angel scattereth.
Should I have also wings while life has bound me?
Or, mother, are they given alone in death?
Why dost thou clasp me as if I were going?
Why dost thou press thy cheek so unto mine?
Thy cheek is hot, and yet thy tears are flowing!
I will, dear mother, will be always thine!
Do not sigh thus – it marreth my reposing;
But if thou weep, then I must weep with thee!
Ah, I am tired – my weary eyes are closing –
Look, mother, look! the angel kisseth me!
By Hans Christian Andersen.
May you be spurred on to bring that glimmer of hope to a child's eyes and may you be challenged to once again shift things back into perspective! Be filled with grace and strength!
J.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
"The Longest Mile"
Our friends over at AdoptiveFamlies.com posted this article by Deborah Regan. We wanted to share it with those who might be in the "waiting process". Let this be of some encouragement that the wait is almost over. Just hang on because the reward is so great!
This is her story...
It's been almost five months and my husband and I are still in labor. The pregnancy was even longer-twelve months. When will this baby come, we ask ourselves. In fact, we've been waiting even longer. Almost nine years ago, my husband Peter and I decided to start a family. After two unsuccessful years, infertility testing and an unsuccessful medical intervention, we despaired. We tried not to focus on getting pregnant, despite monthly reminders, then were amazed and delighted to become pregnant several months later.
Since I was thirty-six at the time, I underwent amniocentesis which ruptured the amniotic sac. Despite three weeks of bed rest, at just five months of pregnancy, I went into labor and the baby was stillborn. We were told that only one half of one percent of the women who undergo amniocentesis experience complications. Those statistics were no comfort as we buried our baby in our small town cemetery.
For several years we felt a mix of anger, grief and confusion about why this had happened to us and how we would or if we would create a family. We continued to try to get pregnant to no avail, and at times, feared getting pregnant and losing another baby.
Adoption became the logical choice. We decided to adopt internationally and chose Korea due to their excellent health and foster care. We applied to an adoption agency, filled out many forms, met with a social worker for a home study, and then began the long wait.
After filing our application, we focused on organizing our house and going out a lot to concerts, movies and dinner. We knew that once our baby came home, our lifestyle would change.
One year later, we received our referral the first week in December. We had been hoping for a referral before Christmas, but had been warned against such a hope. The social worker's phone call to us was a blur through my tears, especially when she told us that the baby was the girl I had hoped for. We called our families and friends, enjoying their excitement as much as ours.
On the way to the adoption agency, I was afraid that I would cry when we were given a picture of our baby. But I didn't cry. I looked at the picture of her almost as dispassionately as I would look at the picture of a stranger's baby to whom I had no connection. Then I remembered that this was a stranger's baby. A stranger whom we would probably never know, but to whom we would be forever connected.
We make copies of the baby's picture, place them on our desks at work, on the kitchen table at home, send them to family, put them inside our Christmas cards. The more we look at the picture, the more she becomes our baby. Now the wait becomes more difficult....
To read the rest of Deborah's story then click HERE and join in the excitement of enduring the wait!
J.
This is her story...
It's been almost five months and my husband and I are still in labor. The pregnancy was even longer-twelve months. When will this baby come, we ask ourselves. In fact, we've been waiting even longer. Almost nine years ago, my husband Peter and I decided to start a family. After two unsuccessful years, infertility testing and an unsuccessful medical intervention, we despaired. We tried not to focus on getting pregnant, despite monthly reminders, then were amazed and delighted to become pregnant several months later.
Since I was thirty-six at the time, I underwent amniocentesis which ruptured the amniotic sac. Despite three weeks of bed rest, at just five months of pregnancy, I went into labor and the baby was stillborn. We were told that only one half of one percent of the women who undergo amniocentesis experience complications. Those statistics were no comfort as we buried our baby in our small town cemetery.
For several years we felt a mix of anger, grief and confusion about why this had happened to us and how we would or if we would create a family. We continued to try to get pregnant to no avail, and at times, feared getting pregnant and losing another baby.
Adoption became the logical choice. We decided to adopt internationally and chose Korea due to their excellent health and foster care. We applied to an adoption agency, filled out many forms, met with a social worker for a home study, and then began the long wait.
After filing our application, we focused on organizing our house and going out a lot to concerts, movies and dinner. We knew that once our baby came home, our lifestyle would change.
One year later, we received our referral the first week in December. We had been hoping for a referral before Christmas, but had been warned against such a hope. The social worker's phone call to us was a blur through my tears, especially when she told us that the baby was the girl I had hoped for. We called our families and friends, enjoying their excitement as much as ours.
On the way to the adoption agency, I was afraid that I would cry when we were given a picture of our baby. But I didn't cry. I looked at the picture of her almost as dispassionately as I would look at the picture of a stranger's baby to whom I had no connection. Then I remembered that this was a stranger's baby. A stranger whom we would probably never know, but to whom we would be forever connected.
We make copies of the baby's picture, place them on our desks at work, on the kitchen table at home, send them to family, put them inside our Christmas cards. The more we look at the picture, the more she becomes our baby. Now the wait becomes more difficult....
To read the rest of Deborah's story then click HERE and join in the excitement of enduring the wait!
J.
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