30 Days of Thankfulness, Day Five

Today, I am thankful for social media.

Yes, it is a great time waster. Yes, I am sick of the political posts and the whining and complaining that are all that some people seem to do on Facebook. Yes, I'm guilty of Facebook-enabled public myself, on occasion.

But today has been a perfect example of the ways that social media - and Facebook in particular - can be used for good.

I was able to share a link to a local organization that is raising money to help a single mom in her time of financial need. I didn't have money to donate, but maybe someone will see that link and be able to help.

I set up an event page to promote the spaghetti dinner fundraiser that our Girl Scout troop is hosting this weekend. Letting people know about the event means more people eating spaghetti, and that means money to pay for patches and meeting supplies and service projects and events so that the troop parents don't have to. 

Best of all, my friend Brooke and I set up an auction page to raise money for our Reece's Rainbow Angel Tree children. 35 people liked the page on its first day, and $91 in bids were placed. That in itself was pretty terrific, but what really blows me away are all the people who have generously donated items to the auction. About half of the donations came from people that I actually know - people who I know to be exceedingly generous even when time and resources don't necessarily agree with their giving. Other donations came from Etsy sellers that I don't even know, but asked if they would be interested in donating to the cause - and because of their heart for orphans or kids with Down Syndrome, they gave. Many of them volunteered even more than I had asked. Several said that they were "honored" to be a part of the auction. Each of them touched my heart today.

We invited people to the auction, and they shared the link with their friends. I invite you stop by as well - whether you're an adoption advocate or no, there's some cute stuff up for bids, and several things that would make great Christmas gifts. Best of all, 100% of the purchase price will be deposited into the childrens' accounts, to help their future forever families get to them even faster. 

30 Days of Thankfulness, Day Three

I did something really neat tonight - I went to my very first quarter auction. I had no idea what to expect when I got there, really. People had tried to explain it to me, but it didn't really click until we got started. In a nutshell, you buy your numbered paddle, and each time you bid on an item, you toss 1-2 quarters (depending on the value of the item) into a bucket on your table. Then a number is drawn, and if that paddle number placed a bid, then it takes the item. So essentially, you could win really fab prizes for the cost of your paddle plus a quarter. But of course, bidding is so much fun that you've gone through a whole roll of quarters in no time flat, and you don't even care because it's for a good cause.

Yes, the quarter auction was a fundraiser, and it raised more than $1200 to help with a dear friend's adoption costs.

I've mentioned her before - you remember Chandres, who is in the process of bringing home a new son and daughter from Eastern Europe. She's already traveled to meet them both, and I can't wait until they're out of their orphanages and into their forever home.

Mandy was also at the auction tonight - yes, I've mentioned her before too. She's already brought home her two boys, from the same country as Chandres, and is now working hard to get back there and bring home a sweet little girl who will undoubtedly be thrilled to find that her old friend is her new brother.

I'll begin by saying that I'm thankful for Mandy. If it weren't for her first adoption - and an article about her family in our local newspaper - I may never have known about Reece's Rainbow, may have never considered adopting a child with special needs, may have never seen Anastasia's sweet little face.

She would likely deny having any part in the matter, but it was only after meeting Mandy that I saw the number of people with a heart for orphans just skyrocket in our area. Some began the adoption process, some hope to adopt someday soon, some became passionate advocates for the orphans. Some donated financially to adoption funds, some helped organize fundraisers, some prayed faithfully for all of the above. I have been blessed by and am thankful for ALL of them.

I can't be thankful that there are orphans, of course...it breaks my heart that there are children with no parents to love them. But I am thankful for the people that care for them and help tell the world that they are out there, and that they need us.

Although today's post was inspired by my beautiful friends at the quarter auction, it's perfectly fitting for tomorrow as well - November 4 is Orphan Sunday, a day in which Christians are called to take notice of and action for the world's orphans. Did you know that if only seven percent of people who profess to be Christians would adopt one child, that there would be no orphan crisis?

Adoption is, of course, not for everyone. But everyone can do something. You could click on one of my friends' names and donate toward their adoption expenses. You could visit Reece's Rainbow and donate a few dollars to whichever child catches your eye - or tugs on your heartstrings. You could post something - anything! - about the orphans on Facebook, because people need to be made aware. You could spend a few extra minutes in prayer for the orphans and the people who are shouting down mountains in order to bring them home.

As Mandy would say...

Pray, Adopt, Advocate, Support...Do Something!

I'm Aware

Today, October 1, marks the beginning of Down Syndrome Awareness Month.

I've been aware of Down syndrome for years. Even in elementary school, there was a red-haired girl in the special ed classroom that I knew looked different and spoke differently, but was always very, very nice. Later on, I would learn about Down syndrome and the physical attributes, and remember her.

To be perfectly honest, though, I didn't think much more about it until I met Mandy...who I have blogged about before, and told the story of how I discovered Reece's Rainbow (and a whole new community of amazing people) through her. Since then, I've had the privilege of meeting Mandy's two new sons and seeing for myself how sweet and clever they are, and now they are going back for the little girl who was Samuel's best friend in his orphanage. I've met another friend who had not only adopted two children with Down syndrome from Ukraine, but recently brought home two more. My friend Chandres leaves this weekend to go and meet her two new children for the first time. And there are so many more who hope to adopt, and who throw their hearts into advocating for orphans and helping those in the process of adopting.

I have seen God at work in so many ways.

And yet, there's one little girl still waiting in a Russian institution - too old for the baby house now, she'll be seven and a half this month, so she's been moved to an adult mental institution, what kind of life is that for a child? But still, she waits. "My" Anastasia.

(No, I don't have any real claim to her. She's captured my heart, but that's as far as we've gotten. I call her mine, but if another family would swoop into that institution and free her tonight, I would rejoice. I want her for myself, but more than that, I want her out.)

Quite often, friends who know how I feel about Anastasia will ask me for an update...meaning, has Gene given the go-ahead, have we started our home study, do we have a time frame, etc. I am grateful that they remember and ask. And I hate that I have to keep telling them that we're still waiting...

So for those that wonder, I'm going to give you an update. And I have a request for you. But first, I have to tell you about something else.

Sometimes my church will do themed series of sermons that last for a month or so, maybe six weeks, with breaks in between, etc. Yesterday, we began a new series called Awaken. (Rather than explain it in detail here, please click on the link and read the detail page. And read Romans 13:11-14. In a nutshell, it's time for the church to WAKE UP!!) We are specifically focusing on prayer during the month of October - people signed up for half-hour time slots, and there will be someone from my church praying round the clock, for the entire month of October, for spiritual awakening. (I LOVE that.)

So yesterday was the first day of Awakening. At the end of the sermon, Pastor Steve reminded us that we are to pray with bold confidence in Jesus Christ. The curtain is torn and we are able to boldly approach the throne of grace, a Father who loves us and is worthy of our trust, with our requests. BOLDLY, he said - I believe his exact words were, "Jesus didn't die on that cross so we can pray for a front row parking spot at Walmart!" We can pray for huge, outlandish things that can't and won't happen and wouldn't make sense without God - and we SHOULD pray for these things, because how else are we going to make this world a better place?!

Then he listed some examples of big things we should pray for, should we be in any of the situations. Healing of marriage, for instance. He listed a few more that I can't recall. And then he said it - "those of you who want to adopt a child."

Now, Pastor Steve doesn't know about Anastasia. There's (thank God!) a great adoption ministry at my church, and lots of people that have adopted...so he could safely assume that were people in the congregation that want to adopt and, for whatever, haven't yet. But naturally, that comment hit me right in the stomach. 

Because the whole time, the whole time he talked about praying BIG prayers, about how God could and would move the mountains...all I could think about were how very many mountains lie between us and Russia.

Without divulging every single detail...there are two mountains that we need moved before anything can even happen.

The first mountain is my husband. Now, he actually reads my blog, and probably won't be impressed to hear himself being called a mountain or, in fact, even referred to at all. (Sorry, honey!) But the truth is, Anastasia speaks to my heart. I feel the call to adopt. The children are all for it too, of course. But Gene would have been happy with just one child, and is certainly done after two. As the sole breadwinner in our family (my meager and unpredictable photography earnings not withstanding), he feels that it is his financial responsibility first and foremost to care for the family he already has, rather than seeking to add another mouth to feed. I understand this, of course, and I am grateful for a husband that works hard to care for his family. He is ambivalent, and this is not uncommon - it is nearly always the mother who first feels that nudge toward adoption. There's even a term for men like him in the adoption community - RH, for "reluctant husband." Gene is an RH, although with good reason.

However, having been praying for and about her for so long, having talked about her so much, Anastasia has become a part of our family, in theory if not in practice. At first, it was just us girls that talked about her. But lately, Gene has begun to acknowledge her existence. He doesn't cringe when we talk about her. I don't hear his defenses immediately click into place when the topic of adoption rises. I've caught him donating to a friend's adoption fund. He even asked me a few days ago if I would call her "Annie" for short. (Hard to say, not knowing her real name. But scroll back up to her picture and tell me, doesn't she look like an Annie to you?!)

That mountain is trembling.  :)

The second mountain...well, that one is holding fast. If anything, it's actually growing. This is where I'll be a little more vague, because the second mountain is financial in nature. There's a need that must be addressed before we can start planning for our home study. The only way for it to be rectified is a boost in income - which is certainly possible for Gene, whenever overtime is available. That part is good news!

The bad news? The plant where he works laid off fifty-five employees today. Isn't that a nasty little irony? On the very day that I'm challenged to start praying BIG, and for one of my prayers to be lots and lots of overtime...business is slow to the point of layoffs. Gene was not one of them, and for that, I am so, so thankful. That he is at work right now is no small mercy.

And that is how the mountain GREW to what feels like an unsurmountable height. That is the prayer that can be handled by God alone - to not only undo the decrease in business that led to the layoffs to start with, but to increase it SO MUCH that there's plenty of overtime available for Gene.

Now, I'll tell you...I believe, completely, that there is nothing that God cannot do. But standing at the foot of this mountain and looking up, and willing my mouth to open and shout the word "MOVE!!!" It's hard. It's so hard.

This is where my request comes in. Not a lot of people read this blog, I'm pretty sure of that. Just my closest friends, and Gene sometimes, and maybe my dad (although he pretty much skulks around online and sees all, but you never know he's there...he's kind of a Facebook ninja that way.) So my request to you is: pray with me. I know, you already do, because you're awesome that way. But bump it up a notch this month? Because I'm doing some heavy duty praying over here, but back me up, please, because it's hard.  I have faith that the mountain can move. I'm not sure if I have faith that it will move.

Pray for me.

And pray for Anastasia. Because no matter how I feel about the situation, what it all boils down to is that there is a little girl in an institution that has never had a family to love her. She needs a family. As I stated before...I would love to make her part of ours ---BUT--- if that is not God's plan for our family, if He does not clear the path for us, then there is another family out there for her, and they need to go and get her. Russia is not, from what I've learned, an easy place from which to adopt. The fees and the travel requirements are daunting, to put it nicely. There are countries that are much easier, cheaper, faster. Had I set out with the intent to adopt and no particular child in mind, Russia would have been the least logical place for me to look, and I'm sure it's the same for many other prospective families. If we are not her family, if her family is out there somewhere else...pray for them to be undeterred by the mountains that stand in their way.

Pray her out of the institution, and into a family that will love her. Pray her out of a country that devalues people with Down syndrome so much that parents are encouraged to hand these infants over to an orphanage at birth. 

So there's our update. It's not pretty, it's much too long, and it still amounts to, "we're still waiting." But there's hope at the end. And I'm so grateful for all of you who are hoping along with me.

"I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there,' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you." -Matthew 17:20 NIV

March Forth

Some of you may have noticed (okay, probably not) that this blog hasn't been updated this year. I know, we're just over two months in, and I've gone longer without updating before. But this time, I had a reason. I wanted the first blog post of the new year to be special. (I didn't say it wasn't a silly reason!) And nothing I've thought of posting to date has had that "special for a new year" quality that I was looking for. I could have posted about what we've been doing in school, or the surgeries on my leg - minor, but irritating enough to vent about. I could have told you all about Rachael's second alpaca show, or grumbled to no end about the logistics of Girl Scout cookies for a troop of thirty. I could have posted most anything, really, but I'm glad I waited for today.


March 4th has the distinction of being the only date on the calendar that is also a sentence. March fourth..."march forth!" It's not only a sentence, but a command.


One of my favorite Bible verses is more or less a command: "Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world." (James 1:27 NIV) 


I love it because it's very direct. "This is what God loves. Do this."


I also love that I have three - three! - friends who have chosen to take giant leaps of faith in order to obey one part of this command: to look after orphans. All three are committed to bringing children home from other countries - a daunting task, and one that they all acknowledge can only be accomplished by the hand of God. All three have decided to "march forth."

First came Mandy. I blogged about her last summer, not long after reading about her family's journey to bring home two darling little boys. After chatting with her online for some time, I finally got to meet her in person in January. Mandy absolutely blows me away with her unwavering faith. All at once, she is an inspiration, an aspiration, and an affirmation to me (try saying that five times fast!) I wish that I could handle every situation with the same grace that she manages. I am so looking forward to her bringing the boys HOME, and watching them thrive in her care.


Next came Chandres. Her family decided to adopt, fell in love with a beautiful girl, and committed to her adoption in what seemed like absolutely no time. That didn't surprise me at all, since Chandres is THE most efficient person I know! If there's a job that needs to be done and done well, she is the one to ask. (Maybe I shouldn't broadcast that, lest even more people figure it out...) Like Mandy, she has faith that can move mountains, and I so love watching them move on her new daughter's behalf. I can't wait to meet the newest member of her family.


And then there's Traci, who I frequently accuse of being crazy, but only because I've found a kindred spirit in her, and I know how crazy I am! Traci who has four kids already and hadn't really considered adopting, although she didn't think I was crazy when I told her that I'd love to. Traci who was sure her husband wouldn't go for it if she did want to. And then...Traci who read a post from a mom who was in country to meet the child she was adopting, and saw her own son in that orphanage. In no time at all, God was at work on her husband's heart - and now they hope to bring home not just one, but two teenage boys.


International doption requires so much. So much faith, to make that big announcement, knowing that not everyone will be fully supportive. To embrace the unknown and bring it into your life forever. To fly over oceans, again and again, leaving your other children behind, to rescue the one(s) that are clearly meant to be ransomed by your family. So much time (and frustration) devoted to paperwork. So much waiting. So much heartache, because you want those children home now.


And so much money.


First the home study. Fingerprinting. Ordering official documents. Passports. Postage. Agency fees. Foreign fees. Mandatory "donations" to this and that organization. Airfare. Food and housing while in country. Money, money, money. Given the total of the fees, it's no wonder that so many people are terrified to consider adopting.


My friends - and probably very few people that adopt - don't have $20,000 plus stashed away in a savings account to pay all of the fees that come with the territory. They would rather not go into debt to come up with the money. The alternative? Fundraising.


They don't like it. Who really does like to ask people for money? I sure don't. It is exceptionally humbling...especially when the total needed seems like such an exorbitant amount.


I've seen some amazing fundraisers from Mandy and Chandres already. Traci is just getting started, so I'm sure some great fundraisers will be happening soon for her as well. These ladies have worked at promoting fundraisers, finding sponsors and obtaining wonderful prizes for those that participate. Fundraising is so much more than asking for money; it's educating people about why the money is needed, it's following rules to make sure that everything is "legal," it's hours of meticulous record-keeping.


It's for such a wonderful cause.


Will you consider donating to these families, knowing that it will make a difference in the life of a child? Mandy will (hopefully) be traveling very soon to bring her boys home, and still needs almost $2000. Chandres needs $2300 as soon as possible to pay home study fees...and more for other expenses. Traci needs $1200 in donations and organization fees in order to commit to her second son, and needs to pay that now. None of them know where the money will come from. All of them are trusting that God will provide it. If God is nudging you to help them, please do. Answer the call to "look after orphans." March forth.


Mandy: Finding Our Little One


Chandres: Upcycled Purpose

Traci: A Small, Still Voice

You can donate to either Mandy or Chandres from their blogs. For information on helping Traci now, please contact me: kcardwell at gmail dot com. Can't contribute monetarily? Please consider sharing these ladies' blogs! Blog about them, share them on Facebook - get the word out there. Share their stories. You never know who you know that might feel called to help. <3


* I should mention that all three of these ladies have wonderful, supportive husbands. But because I don't know them as well, but know and love these adoptive-moms-to-be, the focus here is naturally on them. 


** Happy to be sharing this post with the other bloggers at Spiritual Sundays, as well as on the JCWBS page on Facebook. Want updates when this blog is updated? Please "like" that page for updates whenever this blog is updated...which will be more frequently, now that I've found a post worthy of the first of the year.

Anastasia and Mariah: A (True) Tale of Two Orphans

Not too long ago, there was a story in our local newspaper about a nearby family that is in the process of adopting two little boys - both with Down syndrome - from Eastern Europe. The story blew my mind - this couple, a little younger than me, already has two children, and are undertaking the daunting task of adopting two children? And both with special needs? Wow. It boggled my mind.

And broke my heart a little, because of the little voice inside that told me, "you could never do that."

I've confessed it here before - I've felt a strong pull toward adoption for a while now. I blogged about it back in November - November! nine months ago! - that it had just hit me, that adoption was flying in my face from every direction. And it hasn't stopped. It hasn't slowed down. It's everywhere I look, even in unlikely places. I picked up book from the young adult section of the library this past week (yeah yeah, young adult = guilty pleasure) because it had a fun title and a quirky cover. It ended up being about a 14-year-old boy who is sent to live with kooky relatives for the summer, and ends up helping the small town save up money for...you guessed it, one of the townsfolk to adopt a boy from Romania. I'm telling you, it is everywhere I turn.

But back to the local family that's adopting...the article mentioned that they found their new sons online at Reece's Rainbow, an organization devoted to finding homes for orphans with Down syndrome. So, after finding the mom on Facebook and messaging her to tell her what an amazing thing I think she's doing and to let her know that they're in our prayers, I went to check out Reece's Rainbow.

And oh, the precious faces that waited for me there. SO many sweet little faces. So many sad pictures. And then, one tiny half-smile that stopped me in my tracks and took my breath away:

Meet Anastasia. She was born in April 2005, and lives in Russia. She has Down syndrome. And because she is already six years old, it is likely that she has been transferred from the "baby orphanage" into some sort of institution. No one can tell me for sure. Yes, I've emailed them to ask.

Maybe it's because her sweet little face reminds me a bit of Milly - especially with those blonde pigtails. She is clearly no more than two or so in this picture, and I want so much to know what she looks like now. What her personality is like. Whether she is healthy and well cared for.

Although I've thought a lot about adoption - as I mentioned before, it's something I've always that I'd like to do "someday" - I have never considered adopting a child with special needs. I'm too selfish, too busy, too uneducated, too (insert excuse of your choice here.) But once Anastasia's picture hit me like a ton of bricks, I started thinking a little differently.

She has Down syndrome. As far as special needs go, that one can be pretty minor. And what would happen if, say, we had a third baby that ended up having Down syndrome? It would play out a bit like this...

1) Shock and JOY at the news. Shock because it would be a complete accident, as Gene has made it clear that he doesn't want another baby. JOY for me, because babies are blessings no matter what. Gene wouldn't share in my joy at first, but he would come around.

2) Nervousness, trepidation, FEAR...when we would be told at the 20-week ultrasound that something didn't look quite right, that this measurement was off, that our baby had markers typical of Down syndrome.

3) Outrage when the doctor suggested amniocentesis to confirm or rule out Down syndrome. There are too many risks to amnio; I would never consent to it. The results would be irrelevant in any case; I would never consider terminating my child because of Down syndrome - something that does not diminish quality of life.

4) This is where I would start reading, reading, reading - every resource I could find on Down syndrome. I would be a wealth of information by the time the baby arrived - prepared for everything that I could possibly be prepared for. Learning about the possible complications and how to handle them, learning about growth and development and whatever else I would need to know to be the best mother possible to my child.

Mentally walking through those four steps brought me to a new realization - this is something that could happen to our family. Perhaps it's not likely, but it could happen, and that is how we would deal with it.

What would be so terrible about skipping steps one through three? Or at least skipping steps two and three, and maybe editing step one a bit...

Gene is, unsurprisingly, not as moved by the picture of Anastasia as I am. He admits that he doesn't feel the same call to adoption that I do...but at least he acknowledges that I do. He is, I think, overwhelmed by the enormity of international adoption, and I don't blame him one bit. It's a terrifying process - the cost alone is staggering: $25 to 30 thousand dollars to adopt a child from Russia, once you figure in travel, lodging, etc. Not to mention the piles of paperwork, the hoops to jump through, and the very idea of getting on a plane and jetting off to Russia - twice! - without my babies.

No wonder that little voice tells me that I could never do that. It does seem impossible. Honestly, with just one income, we would barely meet the minimum income to adopt from Russia, if we met it at all.

And if we did meet the minimum and did decide to pursue adoption, it would mean endless fundraisers to try to raise enough to bring her home. Oh, how I hate asking people for money! Especially when I suspect that many of them would think that we don't need it, since we already have two quite perfect children of our own. Why go to all the fuss for one more?

It's so easy to say that it's impossible. SO easy.

But what's not easy is feeling compelled to go and look at that little face just one more time. To feel my heart break a little for her every time. What's not easy is finding a reason to mention her to Gene, to turn my laptop so he can see her picture again too - hoping that just maybe, maybe this time he'll see it too - only for him to roll his eyes and ask me "what's this obsession with adoption?"

Maybe his lack of interest is God's way of telling me something...not this child, not right now, or not necessarily adoption. Maybe something else.

And maybe God will soften his heart toward adoption. Maybe the time isn't right and the answer is simply, not right now.

I am prayerfully waiting. But my heart longs for Anastasia and, were it entirely up to me, the adoption process would have already been begun.

Speaking of prayer...even if you aren't interested in adopting, there's still a way that you can help the children featured on Reece's Rainbow - or at least one special child. Consider becoming one of their Prayer Warriors. There's no cost and no obligation, other than to pray for your child each and every day until that child's forever family comes to take him/her home. Just click on the link to find out how to get started.

I am a prayer warrior for sweet little Mariah:

Mariah was born in March 2010 - also in Russia, although a different region from Anastasia. She also has Down syndrome, but is already "seeking to communicate", according to her profile page. I'm praying for her health and happiness, for the caregivers in her orphanage, and for her family to find her and come for her soon. No child should grow up without a mommy.

And while Anastasia already has a different prayer warrior, she's always in my prayers as well. If it's not me that's meant to be her mommy, then I hope whoever-it-is finds her and brings her home soon.

* * * * *

Want to read more about the family that's adopting two little boys? Here is the article that appeared in our newspaper, and here is the family's blog. They're still raising money to bring their boys home - donations and prayers are both appreciated.

Last thing: if you have ever had that little voice say "you could never do that," then HERE is a blog post worth reading. It certainly convicted me, and continues to whenever I go back to read it again...

Something that breaks my heart.

I know, wow, not a very compelling title, is it? It's sort of a "back away slowly" warning when you see that perched on top of a blog post. But there it is. Something has been on my heart for weeks, and although I have NO idea if it'll EVER go beyond thinking and wondering, I'm going to tell you about it.

I recently read Max Lucado's new book, Out Live Your Life. (That's not what breaks my heart - it's a wonderful book, and there's a review coming soon. But go ahead and check it out anyway.) In this book, the author encourages you to reach out to the broken, the underprivileged, the sick, the hurting...and he acknowledges that not all of us are called to serve in the same area. "God has given us different gifts for doing certain things well." (Romans 12:6 NLT) "For whom do you feel the most compassion?", he asks. "When does your heart break and pulse race?"

And then mine did.

Here's a brief excerpt that tells the story of a pastor's wife, a businesswoman, and the founder of a small relief organization. Edited to make my point, and emphasis mine:

"They traveled to Cambodia to encourage...a missionary friend. He led them to a section of his city where the modern sex trade runs rampant. An estimated fifteen thousand girls were on sale. At the time, more than a hundred thousand young women in Cambodia had been sold into forced prostitution. (They) looked into the faces of teen girls, even preteens, and could see a devastating story in each. (They) had no idea what to do but pray.

God heard their prayer and gave them their tools. Upon returning to the U.S., Jo Anne wrote an article about the experience, which prompted a reader to send a great deal of money. With this gift, the women formed an anti-trafficking ministry of World Hope International and provided housing for the young girls who were rescued or escaped from the brothels and sales stations. In just three years, four hundred children, ranging in age from two to fifteen, were rescued."

Max asked "when does your heart break and pulse race?" My heart started racing when I read about the 15,000 girls on sale, the 100,000 that had been forced into prostitution. Can you even imagine that many young girls? What SICK and twisted people would force a child into prostitution?

And then...I read "ranging in age from two to fifteen." That's where my heart shattered.

Anyone who knows me or reads my blog even occasionally knows that I have two daughters of my own. My oldest is six. My youngest is two. Some of those rescued girls were two. And I know...based on my own two-year-old...sure, she can do a lot of things on her own now, but two years is old is still just a baby. These evil creatures are breaking and tormenting not only innocent teenagers, but helpless little girls and babies.

I immediately visited the World Hope International website. From there, I read another site, and another, and another. I'm still reading. I'm still trying to figure out what I can do, what I should do, what I'm meant to do. From where I sit tonight, it doesn't seem as though I can do much - finances are limited, responsibilities prevent me from traveling to help people, and the whole situation is so overwhelming. It's not limited to Cambodia, of course. Children in other nations are similarly mistreated...even in our own.

Something else has happened in the past few weeks as well. Something that doesn't seem possible or likely or even very sane. Something I'm not even sure of yet, but something that won't go away.

As I was reading online about these children, I began seeing information about adoption. Not just here and there, but everywhere. Not only on the anti-trafficking sites that I was reading either. Emails started popping up in my inbox...how to adopt, financial aid for adopting parents, mom website articles about adoptions. Nothing I had signed up for, but there they were. Even on Facebook, adoption ads began appearing in my sidebar. Mentions of adoption on TV. Magazine articles. When I went to church on Wednesday night, there was a new poster about adoption hanging in my classroom. Mentions on the radio. Rachael - who writes down a request in a prayer journal every day as part of her Bible study - asked me one morning how to spell "orphans", and I had not mentioned any of this to her.

I was a nervous wreck for several days. Why all of the adoption stuff flying in my face all of a sudden? Was someone trying to tell me something? Or had I just become hyper-aware of it, having been reading about these children? I've always loved the idea of adoption. I've read about it before, I've watched Adoption Story on TLC (and cried every time), I've thought it's something I might like to do "someday", even though the astronomical cost in itself would likely be prohibitive. But at present, it was not a serious consideration. Gene is happy with our family being just the size that it is; me, I'm not sure from day to day. Two children are plenty on some days (like the one I wrote about last night!) On other days, I'd like another one. Maybe two. Depending on my current reserve of patience. But if we were going to expand our family, just having another child certainly seemed like the way to go. Even paying a midwife out of pocket for a repeat home birth would be scads cheaper than any sort of adoption!

Then I received one more email. This one was from the church I've been attending semi-regularly for about a year now (I adore it, but that's another long, drawn-out post) announcing the upcoming 7% Conference. Huh. 7% Conference? What in the world...?

Well, as it turns out...if only 7% of Christians, worldwide, would care for just one orphan...all of those childrens' needs would be met. The email was announcing a free, day-long conference about adoption. People will be attending from all over the east coast, to teach and attend classes on adoption - domestic, international, embryo, financial options, home studies, foster parenting, adoption ministries in churches, even the effects of sexual assault and trauma on children. This is a conference that will answer a lot of questions for a lot of people in a lot of different circumstances.

I felt blindsided by the very existence of this conference. After being pounded over the head with adoption information, this seemed like a huge culmination, like a suggestion that maybe I shouldn't ignore.

The only problem was, I already had plans for that day. I was due at Girl Scout training session that was to last all day and complete my training as a troop leader, and had made plans to attend with my co-leader. I didn't want to bail on her, or get in trouble with the council for not completing training...so I emailed the afore-mentioned co-leader and asked for her opinion.

It came quickly. "It sounds like He is trying to get your attention and tell you something!", she replied. "It sounds like you need to go to that conference."

There will be other training sessions. It would almost assuredly be longer before I could have all of my questions about adoption answered in one place.

So on Saturday morning, I will be attending the 7% Conference. I'm registered for three classes - International Adoption, The Home Study Process, and Financial Strategies for Adoption. All three are being presented by employees from east coast adoption agencies - people that really know what they're doing. I'm excited, and a little scared.

The way that the whole subject of adoption has been thrown at me lately, there's no telling what will speak to me on Saturday. Maybe nothing. Maybe I'll go and listen to interesting presentations and leave knowing that adoption is not the path for my family after all. It's the alternative that's frightening. Not frightening in the sense of adding a child to our family - if money were no issue, I'd have a Brangelina brood of my very own, with children in every color of the rainbow. I need a little Chinese girl, Cambodian, South Korean, Russian, Ethiopian. You give me a child in need of love, and I'll love on 'em.

The process is what terrifies me. The home studies. Can my house get clean enough? Are we *good* enough to adopt? What if Rachael tells the social worker that I yelled at her on that very bad day earlier this week? What kind of hoops would we have to jump through just to give a child a home? And worse, what about money? Adoption fees are insane, and it's no big secret that our money tree just didn't bloom this year. As I said - it seems hopeless. Impossible.

However.

We have hidden away a trump card, one thing that can - if it turns out that these things are weighing on my heart for a reason, if it turns out that there is a child somewhere that is truly meant for our family - one thing that can overcome the overwhelming impossibility.

I happen to very well connected. My Father is in the business of performing miracles.