Rest

²⁸ Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
²⁹ Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.
³⁰ For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.

Matthew 11:28-30 (NKJV)

(Yokes were put on the necks of animals, so that they could pull a plow or wagon. A yoke was a symbol of obedience and hard work.)

First Grade Musical 3

Hope is our aspiring singer/actress. She does this almost daily while we all sit outside of whatever room she is in giggling and enjoying her creativity. She LOVES musicals and LOVES to sing.

Boost Us

We are 60 days from Marathon race-weekend. The runners are plugging along with their training. Some train in 88 degree heat and humidity and others train in cool air that causes their sweat to turn into icicles. We're all training. We're all preparing.

We are so grateful to report that $4,086 have come in. We are thankful for each gift.

Right now we need to get serious about raising these funds. The cause is incredibly important and the women the program serves will benefit greatly. A match has been offered of $250. If $250 comes in by Sunday night at midnight - the donor will chip-in his $250.

We've been writing about the ladies and the program most days, please be sure to check www.heartlinerunners.blogspot.com for that. While you're there take our poll!

In Review:
IF the chip in meter says $4,336 by tomorrow night -- we get $250 more for the cause.

Growth & Healing

Pierre Gilles
Born March 2006
20.9 pounds to 25.08 pounds

Mirlande
Approximate age - 5 - suffering from Kwash*
25.96 pounds to 30.8 pounds

Milora
Born May 2006 ~ Suffered from severe Kwash*
From 23.1 pounds to 25.96 pouunds

Kensley
Born Feb 2007
From 20.02 pounds to 25.52

*Kwashiorkor is a form of malnutrition that is caused by a lack of protein in the diet.

Weekend Thoughts

*untrue

Kids
I woke up to those blasted roosters at about 4:30 this morning, I have been restless ever since. The three little girls all got up at 6am to start their day of bickering and one-upmanship. Annie loves to get started telling at the other two "NO LYDIE" and "NO BEE BEE" - thereby making an attempt at establishing herself as the big boss early in the day. Lydie pretty much snubs her and ignores it. Phoebe yells back. That yelling meant that the other three were up by 6:20. Six kids awake at 6:20 on a Saturday sleep-in morning. So awesome.*

Running
I had to make a mental switch in the marathon training. I was looking ahead too far at all the miles and started resenting it. My brain is now back to one run at a time, one day at a time. (It is something about being told I have to do a certain number of miles. I feel rebellious toward it after a while and just want to go as far as I feel like going.)

Yesterday we left around 6:30 for 12 miles on the road that runs past the U.S. Embassy and goes all the way to Route Freres. We leave together but we end up running at our own pace and not together for much of it. I was loving the run, being careful to make my water/Gatorade last all 12 miles because our water boy was not able to meet us. It was a good run up until mile 10. I have been getting bad cramps in the bottom of my feet on many of the long runs. I run with the cramps because walking does not really make them less severe at that point. It KILLS! When I got home I googled "runner with cramps in bottom of feet" and learned that I should increase my calcium and run on a better terrain. I'll write to the Ministry of Transportation and the Parks and Rec. Dept. and let them know what I need done.*

Lately there is a Rasta guy that I always see. Each time I run by him he says, "Hey can I run with you?" I say "sure". He then says "Okay, maybe next time." We've had this same exchange four times now. I am kind of hoping he never actually pulls up his dreadlocks to join me.

Last week we had an entertaining exchange with a guy near the Embassy. Running through that area is always a little bit intimidating. There are swarms of people waiting to get into the gate and lots of cars and trucks trying to park on the side of the road that we're running on. We almost need to run while swiveling our necks continuously back and forth to be sure someone is not trying to park on us. (No pedestrian right of way ... no friendliness toward runners.) As we came up on the Embassy a guy started running right next to me. It was obvious that he was not a threat, I was mellow ... Beth was right there with me. He started asking all sorts of questions about where we were running and how far we'd come. For some reason he thought we were headed downtown to the Palace. I said, "No, not running to the Palace." He asked where I lived, I gave the vaguest answer possible, "Port au Prince." He asked my name. I made the mistake of saying Tara, rather than Madame Troy. (Beth scolded me.) It was a pleasant enough exchange but then he asked if he could run with us frequently because he wants to be a cop and needs to get in shape and practice his English. I said, "Nah, we're not really looking for more running partners." His response ended our little time together, he said "Oh no, that's not good because you're sexy you know." I said "Oh NO, No, nooo - don't saaaay that!" I meant it like, come on man - don't go there. He heard it as me disagreeing with his "compliment" all together. He said, "No - really you are, you are!" Beth said if I had introduced myself as Madame Troy, he probably wouldn't have gone there. (Embassy traffic)

I doubt I'll ever get to a place where running in this city feels relaxing. But I am realizing that there is value to being out there on the street experiencing the real pulse of life. Riding around in a car with the windows rolled up lets you see the city, but you miss out on the grit and intensity of it. On my feet in the middle of the chaos I can experience much more. Smelling it, hearing it, and seeing it all at once is much different. Even now, after a year of being out there multiple times a week I'll frequently be caught off guard by my own tears as I pass by so much hurt and so much need.

Plans
We promise to post a batch of Medika Mamba graduates later today. We're interviewing a lady for a position at the guest house, painting, bringing the teens from our neighborhood to youth group, and breaking up baby fights this Saturday.

Have a good weekend.

"Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going." John 14: 1-4

2am Wake Up Calls

2am to noon - our background "white" noise
60 some roosters next door - 0 people - 100s of icky birds
Why? Uh? Because we did something bad and deserve punishment???

Number one conversation at 3am every single night of the week:
Tara - "Troy, is that Lydie crying? Do you hear her?"
Troy- "No. It is the roosters. Go back to sleep."

It has been at least a year since I last griped and whined about this. If you'll just listen to this over and over again for about 10 hours as an act of solidarity we would feel supremely loved and understood. Whew, I feel much better again, thanks for listening.

Prenatal Thursdays, Love It!

Thursdays are by far my favorite day of the week. Prenatal day is so fun. The group of women we see each Thursday are so spunky and resilient and just a lot of fun to get to know.

They seem excited to come and we enjoy a chance to give them one-on-one attention. To think that many of these ladies have never received prenatal care, never had anyone fawn over them, never had quite so much attention .... well, it is fun to get to be able to do that for them. They love it. We love it.

We have three ladies ready to deliver at any moment. They all plan to deliver with us and all seem healthy and ready to do so. They have the phone number, they know to call. We're hoping we get one this weekend.

We told Joranne (pictured above with Paige) today that we ALL want to be at her birth - we're fighting over which three get to be in the room. She has been "a favorite" and so loved from the first day she entered the program. She is fun to be with, her smile is infectious and she has so much charisma. We're anxious to meet her little one soon.

Of Little Importance

(PG 13 warning - skip reading this to your 9 year old.)

• Started painting. Lydia and Phoebe were so flipped out excited about two orange walls - who knew 2 and 3 year olds have decorating opinions?

• This little boy cracked us up today when he appeared out of nowhere to show us his belly. Of course it was not a balloon but the always popular standby, a condom.

• Simone Pele is right next door to Cite Soleil and has a similar feel. It was a tiny bit TIH in that the first 23 ladies in the door were not the ones we were hoping or planning to see. But over time many of the 30 we THOUGHT we would be seeing showed up. It kept things interesting.
  

• One month post marathon, I had my best run of the last six months this morning. 8 miles, 78 minutes. For me, that is fast. Why can these good running days not appear on demand - when it matters? The only people to impress today were people who think I am mentally ill. Where is the fun in that? I want them to whisper to each other, "Hey, did you see how fast the white went by today? No? Well, it was because she was moving fast." Anyway, back to how awesome it was. I killed it. May it not wait six months to happen again. I guess this is what getting old does to a person.

• I told a lady on her 9th pregnancy that 9 is good, she should have the baby then call it quits. "Apre sa, ou fini" - she nodded in wholehearted agreement. Those famous Dungger, Dookals, D- something people came to mind right after I said that. I wonder what Haitian women would think of that family and TV show? (I have never seen the show, it started after I moved. But the whole thing is fascinating and maybe a little bit creepy to me.)
  

• An old man in the village we lived in for our first couple of years in Haiti once told us that November 21 is the date that the weather cools off. We've not forgotten his words and are looking forward to tropical paradise in just 17 days.

• Troy is currently listening to Phil Collins. Why would he do that?
  

Simone Pele Prentals

Troy trusted me with his precious camera today. That has never happened before.

These are a few of my favorites.

More later, time to feed "gourmet" hot-dogs and old bread to hungry little urchins.

If you like the work you see in these photos, go here to sponsor runner, Beth McHoul for her marathon to raise money for these ladies. We need your help!

Mache ki lwen

I love photos like this one. They give me such an opportunity to adjust my attitude. Did I have a hard day? Well ... I did not walk barefoot in rocks carrying corn down a mountain ... sooo maybe not such a bad day after-all.

Tomorrow is the first Wednesday of the month, this is the day that Heartline goes into a fairly rough area of town called Simon Pele to do a prenatal education class for the ladies in that community.

Pray with us for a day of successful teaching and learning and growing and loving.

G'Night.

National Adoption Month

November is National Adoption Month.

(click to link to Presidential Proclamation)

Adoption is not for everyone, but we really hope more people will earnestly consider it. It would be better if kids could stay with their family of origin, we agree that keeping families together should be the goal, but because it is not always possible - more folks need to step up and be a family to a child without one.

We can all at least give it some prayer and consideration. If adoption is not for you, maybe you could help fund the adoption of a friend or family member. If finances don't allow that, ask someone who has adopted how you can pray for them and their child(ren).

Thanks!

For adoption month, my sassy friend Kristin is offering a 25% discount on her tees and adoption tee's for kids. Enter the code word: Livesay to get your discount!

Go to: http://babybrewing.com/babies-and-kids/

Creole/Kreyol 101

There is something very humbling about being forced out of your comfort zone and into a new culture and language. I have such a new respect for immigrants to the USA. It takes a lot of guts to show up and try to navigate your way through life with little to no understanding of the language/culture.

I like to think my Creole has improved in the last year. Whether that is true or not ... Uh- we won't ask Troy or Paige. I am going to take some classes with the new missionaries to try to expand my vocabulary. Right now I do okay with getting the words in the right order but my vocab is far too limited. I will soon find out if my brain is too old to absorb new information. I have my suspicions.

Mainly, I can talk to Jeronne about all house and kid things and to the pregnant ladies about most of their common complaints. But put me into a traffic altercation - or buying something at the market - I am toast.

I have no idea why it is this way, but the little girls speak Creole far more often than English. The adorable language that Lydia, Phoebe and Annie all speak ... called "Crengliole".
They mix a sentence together with both languages - they mix it up different ways and keep it interesting. They always say "Merci" rather than thank you and "please" rather than souple.

• "M vle cracker" (I want a cracker)

• "Bo mwen this" (Give me this)

• "Ou fe dezod stop it" (You're being naughty - stop it)

• "Es kay ou gen pop Mama?" (Do you have pop?) - Minnesotans call Soda "pop" in case you don't know what pop is.

• "I want diri ak pwa" (I want rice and beans)

• "M' vle chita lap ou Mama" (I want to sit on your lap Mama)

"Vle sa" - is probably the most often used Creole combo of words - accompanied with pointing they say "vle sa/want that" about three hundred times a day. I would estimate that all three of them use 75% Creole and 25% English ... we're trying to get Annie switched over to more English in preparation for her family in Minnesota.

We have two stuffed monkey animals. One is Phoebe's and one is Lydie's. Lydie mixes up the word for monkey (makak) and the four letter swear word that rhymes with "it" (kaka) and sometimes says:

"M vle kaka mwen" (I want my #*%&) (She means I want my monkey.) We enjoy this mistake and yuck it up when she mixes it up ... Because we are dreadfully immature.

But, just the other day Lydie taught me something I did not know. She handed me her bowl when she was finished and said "Meh Mama" --- which just means "Here Mama". But I had not yet heard someone say that while handing something off ... now I realize the girls all say it to each other every time they pass a toy.

It's pretty bad when you learn your Creole from a two year old.

*Creole words are spelled in a variety of ways. "Meh" is spelled "Men" but pronounced the same way. Don't use this post as your spelling guide.

Sad News

Beth wrote a post about Jean-Peter here.

Happy Birthday to Our Girl!

Happy Birthday Phoebe!


Slide show removed ... for your sanity.


But if you missed it you can see it here:

http://tl7inhaiti.slide.com/

Spookey Pukey Weekend

The weekend went south on us. Painting did not happen. But puking and pooping did. Lydie put on quite a show Thursday when she barfed on Troy during a meeting he was having. He continued to talk while the people he was meeting with asked "What can we do?!!?" Troy, the experienced father of many said "Nothing, she's not done yet." He continued to talk.

Friday went well with zero pukes. We had our fun day out. All was well on the home-front. Maybe we were dumb to think it would start and stop with one kid. Yes, we were dumb.

Saturday morning we began dropping like flies. Tara, then Jeronne. At 6pm Noah got the distance award when his rice and beans traveled no less than six feet from his mouth.

Not to be deterred, he showered off, brushed the remnants from his teeth, and headed over to the Halloween Bash 2009 that Vivien threw. She planned and organized games, spooky foods, and scary decorations. There are a couple of things we kind of bomb out on living down here ... Halloween being one of them. Vivien came through big time and made it a fun night for all of the kids. Even the puker enjoyed a shortened time at the party.

In the night Phoebe 'tossed her cookies' and Tara took multiple trips to the bathroom. Sunrise Sunday came without much improvement for Noah, Tara, Jeronne and Phoebe. Troy woke up with almost no voice and a rumble in the bronx (his tummy). He had to lead worship at church - forced to rally.

At last count Phoebe is up to three pukes. Tara is still sick. Jeronne is still sick. Noah seems better. Troy and Paige seem like they are undecided. The clock ticks down to the next victim. My money is on Isaac. Hope and Annie seem poised to miss this round of illness, but we shall just see about that. Phoebe tonight, asleep in our room...on the floor. Peanut must have taught her that the tile is cooler.

Laughter Soothes the Soul

This Friday began early with a long training run. I must admit that the long run thing is getting a little.bit.tiresome.and.boring.and.toomuchtoooften. But, it is for an amazing cause that I believe in every bit as much as Medika Mamba.

I hope you're getting over to the runners blog to read about some of the great people sacrificing time and energy to help raise awareness and funds for the beautiful, courageous, and tenacious women of Haiti. We are also continuing to introduce the ladies in the prenatal program on that blog and you'll enjoy a little peek into their lives. I LOVE working with these ladies so much and find them and their endurance and toughness to be totally inspiring.

I ran 18 miles on Monday, then did the mountain hike to get the sweet little guy home on Tuesday. My knees were screaming at me big time. I scolded myself for doing two days of abuse in a row ... but then it occurred to me as we climbed up and down the hills to get to Renald's family that we are totally weak compared to the natives of this little island. Plainly stated - let me give it to you straight - we are total wimps. Every last one of us. You. Me. The whole lot of us.

A couple of cute Haitian ladies jumped in Zach's truck because he offered them a ride. I asked them where they lived. They had been planning to WALK 5 more hours to get home. They had walked DOWN earlier that day. They all had on $2 flip-flop shoes that made my feet hurt just to look at them. They were carrying heavy things. LARGE heavy things. They were going straight up a mountain for five hours. When they arrive home they don't get to put their feet in ice, jump in a cold shower, or drink a protein shake. (Plus Troy is not there to be all sweet and encouraging.) Kind of made me feel like a boob for whining about a little running.

Troy and I had a bunch of things to accomplish today. Scratch that. Troy had a bunch of things to accomplish and I wanted to buy paint to paint the little girls' bedroom this weekend. Because there was one thing that required my presence, I got to tag along with him for a full day of Port au Prince fun. We used to do this together back when we were a five kid family ... but in the last year I don't believe I have tagged along more than a couple times.

After Troy dropped our friends the Mangines off to the airport we got on our way. We make a decision when we leave to laugh at things and not get frustrated. We laughed so much today, it felt marvelous.

It was great to have a day without little ones to talk without non-stop interruption. I love my kids ... they bring much joy, but man are they chatty. Right now Noah is talking non stop about the way a Tyrannosaurus Rex walks. "A T Rex goes like this and then he goes like this and then Mommy, mommy look - he goes like this."

stttttilllll talking.

Here is what we determined: If you can laugh all day while receiving poor to very poor customer service and narrowly escaping death on the over-taxed roads --- you might just make it in PAP!I was allowed to help Troy "tweet" all day; it felt quite powerful to just type on his phone and send it across the world. I think I tweeted responsibly. He was worried about his rep - but I don't know that I did it any damage.

We went down to the Haitian American Institute for a meeting. We went to listen to our favorite racketeer tell us a bunch of lies about why he is not done with our car-registration, we chuckled about how cruddy he is at making up lies and how he cannot even keep them straight. We went to Sherwin Williams to pick out paint. We laughed that they could not tint it today. No, no ... we need to make another trip back to pick it up. We searched for items on Paige's list for her science experiments - and chuckled that the curriculum suggestion was that you could go to a craft store like Hobby Lobby to find test tubes. Empty spice bottles will have to suffice. Later in the day we ran into Zach in the grocery store ... which turned out to be VERY important considering the grocery store credit card machine declined two (the only two) of our credit cards. (For no apparent reason.) Zach was walking out when we said, "Uh, Zach, excuse us ... let's see ... no easy way to say this -- we have no spending power - can you please cover about $225 U.S. in groceries for us and we'll write you a check?" The grocery store was the last stop, which was good considering somebody put a lock down on the Visa and the MasterCard.

Some odd/interesting/fun sights along the route: 1.) Cops leaning on walls all over town 2.) Honda Del Sol circa 1989 IN HAITI - on THESE roads 3.) Totally naked dude walking the hills of Petionville

The only time we almost failed at laughing was on Delmas when a mad kid starting hitting our truck with a stick again and again. That was not all that amusing. I don't believe we even fake laughed at that.

Unfortunately none of Paige's science experiments call for tarps or tow-straps, because by accident we located Tarps and Towstraps R Us.
I plan to use all of my free moments doing "painting therapy" this weekend. The girls are excited to have orange walls. I am excited to have free therapy. Have a great weekend.

Selma avek Jezi.

tara

Renald's Return

{This is the story of returning Renald to his family after acting as a "foster" family and nursing him back to health in 2009.}


In the last few months there has been a major road project going through the center of the country. Because of this new road we did not have to walk six hours to get to Renald's house. We were able to drive about 70 minutes and then walk the last two miles into the area where his home is. The road is really an amazing thing, a huge, huge undertaking. Seeing the giant earth moving equipment right along side people who've lived a very simple life for decades and decades seemed quite odd. In the photo below you can see the road winding behind us. Before the hurricanes came through last fall this road did not exist. All of the travel to the area we were heading was by foot or donkey.


We've been in the mountains of Haiti before, but it has been a long time. I think we forgot. The views were breathtaking. More than once there were tears streaming down our faces as we took in such vast and overwhelming beauty. Photos of what we were seeing will never do it justice, the clouds were sometimes below us and the mountains went on for as far as the eye could see. For the entire ride I just kept thinking, this is too beautiful to be real.Renald seemed nervous and off his game a bit. He is fairly verbal but he was not talking on the ride up. The two photos below are right before we started the walking portion of our trip. We walked straight down steep mountains and back up again to reach his home which is located a long way off of the new road. In the second photo Paige is looking toward his house, where our walk would take us.

About 1/3 of the way into our half hour trek we ran into a guy who said he was "with the mother of the child". Renald showed no recognition but went to him when the man reached for him. My heart sunk learning that there was a guy in the picture. So often the new guy does not want the previous guy's kids. That story has been told over and over again in Haiti.
As we got closer to the area where their house is located Renald asked for Paige and switched to her arms. He seemed to know where he was. He also seemed concerned (that is how we read it anyway) and maybe a little bit nervous.
While the next 15 minutes were not what I prayed or hoped for, I am trying to be objective. I am not Haitian and I do not express emotion like a Haitian. It is unfair for me to expect them to jump up and down and hug their child and cry for joy and do what I think I would do ... that might not be a response that happens in this culture.

Renald was not very happy, while he seemed to remember them he tightened his grip on Paige. His Mom smiled at him as we walked up but when he did not want to go to her she was put off and seemed hurt and upset with him.
The boyfriend is not Renald's father and was telling Troy and Frank (a long-time employee from RHFH/Cazale that escorted us) that he was really kind of thinking we would just keep Renald. The boyfriend was the low point in the whole situation. The Mom never said anything like that.

In situations like theirs it is possible that a healthy kid that is used to eating three meals a day might be an overwhelming thing for them. Not only another mouth to feed, but a child who won't be happy with one tiny meal a day.

Renald cried softly for most of the time we stood trying to talk to them. A crowd of relatives gathered. The brightest moment was when Renald's Granny realized he was back. She was genuinely happy and pleased to see him healthy. He did better going to Gran than he did going to his Mom.

Troy asked a lot of questions about the other kids and how old they were. It was sad when the Mom could not remember the name of the 18 month old baby. She came up with it about 30 seconds later. I don't know if survival mode makes names unimportant or if possibly prolonged malnutrition or other factors play into things. It did seem like the Mom was struggling to take in the information and answer questions. She may have been totally overwhelmed by all the attention. I have no way of understanding her life... Simply no way at all.

Beth asked me if I thought it was universal to love your child and if possibly the privilege of wealth allows us greater freedom to love. I don't know the answer. Maybe so.

Below are two older siblings of Renald and also his little brother, who is the child of the boyfriend we met. They are standing in front of the house they all live in. None of them look all that healthy, but none of them look as sick or as malnourished as Renald did back in June. The sister is 8 and the older brother is 6.

While everything in us (Paige and I) wanted to just take him and run, we know we needed to give them their son, brother, grandson back. He is not ours to take from them. I think we want to believe that we love him more -- but there is no way we can know that. That is our egotistical (ethnocentric) judgment.

The reactions were not what we wanted but we cannot know their hearts. Renald needs time to bond to them and we were dumb to think he would be instantly happy to be home. Because I can provide a nicer house, toys and food -- it does not mean that I am a better person to raise him. I value those things, you value those things ... but plenty of people live their lives without those things and they live long, happy lives.

I waited a day to write because I was angry and upset and I know I needed to step back and calm down. I instantly decided that they don't love him as much as we do ... and that was wrong of me. I do not know that.

The truth is, all of us (some of you included) fell hard for this beautiful little boy. We tried hard not to entertain the idea of begging the family to let us adopt him. Trust me, we thought about it a lot. Renald needed healing and God gave him that. He gets to start over without worms and fevers and illness. He touched our lives with his fight to live and his beautiful smiling eyes and crazy fun dance moves.

I have to believe that Renald is not done touching lives. Not by any stretch of the imagination. To think that this little boy from a tiny shack in the remote mountains of Haiti has been seen, prayed for, and loved by hundreds and hundreds of people from all over the world is mind-numbing.

I hope you'll continue to love and pray for him.

We prayed with his Mom, hugged him goodbye, and left with heavy grief and blurry-eyes.
There are plans in place to help them with food, etc. We are not leaving them hanging. It is a tricky thing because we want to do our best to make sure that the kids are going to benefit from the help. Explaining why that is tricky is a whole different blog post. Renald's Mom will hopefully keep her appointment with Licia and Lori in Cazale in late November. At that time we'll be able to see how Renald is doing. For now we know we need to give this family a chance. We need to reserve our judgment and trust the same God we trusted for Renald's healing.

The peace we were longing for has yet to settle in on us, but we wait in hopeful expectation.

These last photos were taken after we hiked back out. They overlook the absolute beauty of the Artibonite Valley.

A GIANT amount of love and respect goes out to Licia and Lori and Big Zach. They do the hard work of helping children heal and then watching them leave ... only they do it all the time.
Until later,

Tara for all of us

Mountain Trip

Today was utterly confusing and not what we'd hoped it would be. Renald is home, deep in the mountains of Haiti with his family. Too soon to process it all. Continued prayers for Rey are important.

Two Things for Monday

1. We just learned that Renald (go here and enter password Renald - or here to learn about him) is going to be reunited with his Mama tomorrow. She has not seen him in person since early June. We are praying that seeing the new Renald will be HUGE encouragement to her and that through Renald's healing, that more than anything, she will feel the love of God. Prayers for all involved are so very appreciated. It is a big day that we've prepared for as much as possible - and although goodbyes hurt terribly - we know it is what is required. Renald is well. Thank God for that! This little boy changed us, and we're so very blessed.
   
2. I have been asking you for running sponsorship money since the end of May. You're probably a bit tired of it. (I am actually getting kind of tired of myself.) Here is the thing --- If you've got the ability to give - we need you! Large and small gifts are needed. If you're just not able to give or just not interested in our cause, we understand that - But, we're wondering if you'd kindly pass the word on to your friends and family and others who might be able to help. We have 11 weeks left to raise 58K... not too big or impossible - not at all! Our goal is to love and serve Haitian women. Your gift will help us do that better. Read more about it here: www.heartlinerunners.blogspot.com

Transracial Adoption

In the fall of 2001 we made a decision to adopt internationally. We had our own personal reasons for choosing to leave the USA to build our family.

We followed our hearts and felt strongly that our hearts were aligned with His and moved forward without too much consideration about being a white family raising black kids.

 To our discredit we did not fully research or understand the challenges of transracial adoption. Sometimes ignorance really is bliss. Thankfully, that bliss of ignorance can only last so long ... then you learn something.

I remember people questioning us about raising Hope and Isaac in a 99% white suburb, and not really agreeing with them that it might be difficult. (And now, many years later I simply think that there will be challenges either way- just different ones in different locations.)

Ike and Hope have been with us for almost 7 years. In that time we've encountered some hurtful things, some funny things, and some totally ignorant people, and some really encouraging people. We've have been hurt by harsh words but we've also had multiple positive conversations. We've learned a lot about what we didn't know when we first sought to adopt cross-culturally and transracially. We've grown more sensitive to the way we speak about adoption, families, birth-parents, and certainly the language we use when we make observations about ourselves or other blended families. We've tried to offer grace to people who just don't get it.

Moving to Haiti has not removed the challenges for Hope and Isaac - it has simply created new ones. In MN they were the minority and stood out as such. In Haiti they are the majority and we (their parents) stand out, therefore they do too. It may be harder for them here. They don't escape being "different". Now they are "those kids that live with the blans" to our neighbors. In many ways moving here just made us all odd outsiders and it is no longer a unique thing that only Hope and Isaac experience.

Truth be told, I probably worry more about Isaac than the girls. It does not take an anthropologist to figure out that many folks have already made their decisions about young black men. No longer can Isaac escape prejudice by being "that cute little black boy" - he's getting to the age (and size) where he'll likely begin to notice less automatic acceptance from some people.

As parents, we place a ton of faith in the power of love - and we trust and look to God for direction when situations arise. We strive to make sure our children know beyond any doubt that there is one place in this world where they will always belong and are so special they cannot be replaced. That place is here in this family. We're not so ignorant to think that we can protect them from all hurt and painful things -- we just hope to provide cushioning and encouragement when the punches land. And while adoption is a positive thing to them right now, we're prepared that at times in their life they may not feel that way.

When we went to Minnesota we had an interesting experience at immigration in Miami. As the five of us (T and T, Paige, Isaac and Noah) stepped forward and handed the officer our passports, the officer said in a terse voice, "Who is he with?" Troy and I were standing behind the three kids but Troy's response was to turn and look over his shoulder behind us to see if someone else had stepped forward to the window with us.

Troy looked back to the officer confused and the officer said, "This guy here", pointing at Isaac. (The officer had five U.S. passports in his hand already.) Troy said, "He is our son, he is with us."

The officer said, "Where are his adoption papers?" Troy said, "He is a U.S. Citizen and you have his (previously used and not brand new) U.S. passport in that stack." The officer went on to question when we adopted him, etc. He did not bother to look at the passport to see Isaac has been in and out of the country plenty of times.

Troy answered the questions, Isaac stood listening and Paige and I were just shocked by how cruddy the agent was at human-interaction. As he finally started to scan our passports he looks at Isaac and says, "Who are these people?" while gesturing toward us. Isaac looked at the guy and then glanced at us with a questioning look and said, "my parents!" (like, what is this guy thinking? duh.)

The whole thing annoyed me not because I expect a immigration officer to be adoption savvy or sensitive -- but because I expect an immigration officer to look at the passport he was handed and use his brilliant mind to do a little-tiny bit of detective work.

After we walked away to go grab our luggage I said, "How are you Ike - are you okay honey? Are you feeling alright about things?" I was all prepared to do damage control and counseling.

Isaac said, "Yeah, I just wish I could stop sneezing so much!"

I am so grateful for our family and the way God put it together. I am thankful for opportunities to learn and grow. I am good with being different and as a family we celebrate the many things that make our family "weird" to others. Isaac and Hope are a gift to us and everyone who knows them. We thank the Lord for entrusting us with this awesome responsibility.

May we be equal to the task He has given us.

(2002)