thanksgiving surprises

One year ago today, I was an exhausted and anxious mama camped our in a children's hospital room with a little guy who had a 12 minute long grand mal seizure the night before Thanksgiving. I'm convinced I have some PTSD from that night, but God has refined me in countless ways through the seizure and the subsequent diagnosis of epilepsy for Robbie.


This Thanksgiving, I am exhausted again... with jet lag and a house full of children, three of whom I didn't know existed a year ago.






Unexpected surprises, our three Ugandans are!

And? Unexpected blessings of this spread for Thanksgiving, all cooked and brought to us by different members of our church, some friends and some who we met when they came to the door with a casserole.



Other surprises for which we're giving thanks:

  • Later this week we're getting another full Thanksgiving meal from Harris Teeter, purchased for us by another precious friend at our church. We didn't realize a simple question on Facebook - when I asked about people's experiences with pre-cooked pick-up Thanksgiving meals - would turn into one friend spearheading one meal for us and another friend blessing us with another full meal... we stand amazed. and thankful.
  • Lee's parents are joining us for one of our Thanksgiving meals, when they will meet their three newest grandchildren. Angie - the dear friend who spent three weeks with us in Uganda - is joining us for the other Thanksgiving meal, which is fitting given how many times we've thanked God for her in the past few weeks! 
  • I had to turn down two other offers for Thanksgiving meals, and those dear friends are serving us in different ways. (How wonderful is our family in Christ here in Raleigh?)
  • We're also getting all of our Uganda trip laundry back this afternoon, after a friend pick it up and washed it for us.

Thankful for so, so much this year!

What are you thankful for?

PSA: They know it's Christmastime in Africa.

As we enter the Christmas season and - as such - the Christmas music season, I have to get something off my chest:

THEY DO KNOW IT'S CHRISTMASTIME IN AFRICA.

I know this because we just left Uganda after 40 days. On November 21, the day we left, we made one last stop at Barclay's to exchange our US dollars for a few more Ugandan shillings so we could give extra tips to our guest house staff as we left. In the Quality Shopping center, the pillars were wrapped in sparkling Christmas-themed ribbons.

I know this because I had to ask my children to stop touching the glass windows in front of the twinkling Christmas tree as we waited to be cleared through Uganda's immigration system at the airport. One precious one had to hold my hand against her will because she wanted to run to a different store - one beyond the immigration approval area - because that store had a bigger and brighter Christmas display.

But, even more than the external representations of Christmas, I know this because I met friends in Africa whose faith makes mine look pitiful and small. I met friends who prayed over my son while he was sick and shared stories of their sons who died, all while holding steadfast to their trust in God. One couple sat with us and prayed a blessing over us that still has me in tears right now. Another opened his home to us, a home that was no more than 150 square feet and lacked a bathroom or kitchen but that had scripture adorning the walls and, more importantly, being lived out through love and hospitality.

They know it's Christmastime in Africa.

In the 80s, a lot of money was raised for famine relief in Africa with a song you've heard - and will hear a lot in the coming month - "Do They Know It's Christmas?" Here are the lyrics:

It’s Christmastime; there’s no need to be afraid
At Christmastime, we let in light and we banish shade
And in our world of plenty we can spread a smile of joy
Throw your arms around the world at Christmastime
But say a prayer to pray for the other ones
At Christmastime
It’s hard, but when you’re having fun
There’s a world outside your window
And it’s a world of dread and fear
Where the only water flowing is the bitter sting of tears
And the Christmas bells that ring there
Are the clanging chimes of doom
Well tonight thank God it’s them instead of you
And there won’t be snow in Africa this Christmastime
The greatest gift they’ll get this year is life
Oh, where nothing ever grows, no rain or rivers flow
Do they know it’s Christmastime at all?
Here’s to you, raise a glass for ev’ryone
Here’s to them, underneath that burning sun
Do they know it’s Christmastime at all?
Feed the world
Feed the world
Feed the world
Let them know it’s Christmastime again
Feed the world
Let them know it’s Christmastime again

Other than being condescending, it's not true. Every day in Uganda, we looked out the window to see an amazing view of Lake Victoria, the source of the Nile. No rivers flow? Um, sure. You know, except for the longest one in the world. Other than the Nile, there's also the Zambezi, the Congo/Chambeshi, the Niger, the Ubangi, and... well, you get the point.

Nothing ever grows? Even Robbie will dispute that one, and he's only four. He told someone on the plane from London, "In America, the pineapple is dry. In Uganda, the pineapples is wet and juicy and gooder." Add to that: the bananas, the mangoes, the jackfruit, the corn, the watermelon, the oranges, the sugarcane, and... well, you get the point.

No rain? Tell that to the clothes I re-wore several days because I waited too long to do wash and then - given it was the rainy season in Uganda - my clothes didn't fare well on the line. Tell that to the mud I can't get out of the My Little Pony charms on my daughter's shoes after our visit to the Ugandan Reptile Village the morning after a terrible storm. Tell that to the inconsistent power access we had, given that the power went out every time rain threatened.

Things grow. Rain pours. Rivers flow. It's just not as good for fundraising to say, "Oh, where amazing fruits grow that trump anything you'll have here, and where the rivers and lakes will humble you with their beauty, and where the rain is so prolific it has seasons named for it."

The bitter sting of tears? Well, yes. Africa can be a hard place. Almost everyone I met had lost a child to disease. Death and suffering are far more openly discussed in Uganda than here. But that doesn't mean "it's a world of dread and fear."

It's a beautiful and broken world, a lot like ours. Unlike our world, though, they know Christmas isn't about food. They know a God who is good even when the pantry is empty. Unlike many of us (read: unlike me), they worship God more and comfort less.

Finally, "Well tonight thank God it's them instead of you."

WHAT THE HECK?

Maybe it's just me, but I'm thinking it's better - and less smug and patronizing - to thank God for what we have and ask him to provide, perhaps through us, for those in need. The only story in the Bible when someone thanks God for not being like those other people wasn't a model we were meant to emulate.

I would apologize for ruining a Christmas song for you, but I'm not sorry.

I will, however, spare you from a ranty blog post about why I don't like the Christmas shoes song.

You're welcome.

some African rains rolling in, 2013, from the patio of our guest house in Uganda

some African rains rolling in, 2013, from the patio of our guest house in Uganda

Update, December 2014: This post is being shared a lot because of Band Aid 2014's version, so I wanted to add my two cents about that. I love the effort. I love the cooperation of so many artists. I still hate the song. Sure, some of the errors I post out in this blog post aren't in the newest version, but we need to "let them know it's Christmastime" in West Africa? Um, no. Yes, let's raise support for those affected by Ebola (and maybe next time let's not wait to do it until a white American gets sick), but one thing they get better there than we do here is the truth that suffering and celebration aren't mutually exclusive. Faith coexists with disease, worship occurs amidst deaths, and material wealth isn't needed to be spiritually rich. Maybe it's just me, but I think those in West Africa caring for their sick loved ones might just display the true Christmas spirit far better than our twinkly lights and glass ornaments do.

Will we be cocooning once we're home?

We get home TODAY. Friends in the know about adoption have asked if we'll be "cocooning."

Maybe, maybe not.

Before I explain that, let me step back for those of you who are wondering what butterflies have to do with our return to Raleigh. Cocooning is a big thing in the adoption world. You stay home a lot, meet all your child’s needs so they learn to trust you, and stay away from anywhere with a lot of stimuli, like church and restaurants and the grocery store and so on. The intent is to keep your child's world small in the beginning so that they learn to trust you and learn what family is and learn about all the newness within a controlled and limited environment.

But?

That would be hard for us. And I don’t think it’s necessary.

For starters, we have cocooned here in Uganda. Almost six weeks of time together has helped our children understand each other and understand how our family works. That’s not to say they’ve learned all there is to learn, but they’ve learned enough that the introduction of other people will not be detrimental in the way it would have been after week one or two with us.

the terrorism threats provided some forced cocooning at times too...

Next, we are homebodies anyway. After having spent half of October and most of November away from the comfort of home, we are ALL ready to stay away from any place with a lot of stimuli.

Furthermore, we’ve had a rough go of it here in Uganda health-wise. We’ll need a lot of appointments in the beginning – our typical physical and occupational and speech therapy appointments for Zoe and Robbie, the pediatric infectious disease specialist for our child with HIV who has also had an infection here (suspected to be typhoid), the pediatrician for Zoe who had malaria here and another of our Ugandans who has still not fully recovered from a bout of malaria that almost killed her a couple months ago, and the school system for Patience, who is anxious to get started with school and whom we’ll probably be starting sooner than we initially planned.

Finally, church is a big part of who we are as a family, and I’m not sure we’re really teaching our newest children what our family is about without being immersed in our local church. Will we immediately drop them off in Sunday school? Probably not. For Philip, though, he’ll go to the same class as Robbie once it’s time, so it won’t be the same as just leaving him on his own. For Patience, we expected kindergarten to be an appropriate placement for her once she starts school, but we’re realizing she may be better suited for 1st grade with ESL support. We’ll see what the school system says, but if that’s the case, then she’ll join Jocelyn in Sunday school too. (Anyway, our children’s ministry team is absolutely amazing, so they’d be fine with Patience starting in the 1st grade class and moving later if that’s best for her transition.) So that only leaves our two year olds in different classes, and Patricia will hang out with me in an Ergo or sling for the first month or two at church.

Plus having Angie with us for three weeks helped the newest ones see that Mommy and Daddy could still be Mommy and Daddy with another grown-up helping too.

So will we cocoon? Not in the truest sense of the practice. We’ll do what works best for all of us, and we’ll switch up our plans if and when we need to.

That said, we do have one request. If you are in our home or see us out, and we seem to be struggling with discipline for one or more of our children (especially the Ugandans, but also the other three since they’re in the midst of major life changes), there are some ways you can help and one way you could possibly make things harder. You can help by offering a smile to encourage us; that gesture means more than you know. If you have time, you can help by loving and engaging the children who are not having a rough time in that moment so that we can focus on the one who is. The one thing that could make things harder for us is trying to help with the child who is struggling. Doing so might undermine our role as parents for that child. More importantly, we know the trauma they have experienced and the emotional maturity they have or lack. We respond to misbehavior and disobedience through that lens, so our parenting style might look different from what you expect and be different from how you might respond in an attempt to help.

For example, you might see an almost seven year old girl having a toddler-like tantrum and a mother who is having a hard time physically with her daughter, but we need to get through that struggle together to grow in our relationship. We know some of where she’s been and how she’s hurt and what progress she’s already made, and God has used all of that knowledge to equip us to be the best ones to meet her needs. For the sake of our child’s privacy, I won’t offer more details than that, but please, trust us.

In ways I won’t begin to describe, other than to mention that our first three children have experienced serious sickness while here in Uganda, please understand that all six of our children might act from places of trauma in the beginning. Please be patient with them and with us as we adjust.

And, since we’re not cocooning so much, some of that adjustment phase will be much more visible – and thus much more humbling – than it would be otherwise. Thank you for the grace you’ve extended to us so far and for the grace I know you’ll extend to us in the coming weeks.

I love y’all.

introducing Dingle, party of 8 {plus an invitation to the airport welcome home party}

We have our children's visas. Hallelujah.

We'll be leaving Uganda late tomorrow and coming home to Raleigh on Friday, arriving at 3:45pm on November 22 at RDU via an American Airlines flight from London to Raleigh. Friends who'd like to come out to greet us as we come home, we would LOVE to have you! We'll have to go through customs and immigration, and we don't know how long that'll take - might be fast since RDU isn't a big international hub, might be slow since RDU isn't a big international hub. So sometime after 4pm-ish, we'll be there.

We'll be texting Heather and Angie to keep them posted of our immigrations process, so someone at the waiting place will be in the know about our arrival.

But? I bet y'all care far more about meeting the kids - virtually for now - than about the logistics at the airport, right?

Meet Patience, our spirited and smart and sassy and spunky and social and strong six year old.







Meet Philip, our friendly and formidable and fearless and funny and fierce and free-spirited four year old.








Meet Patricia, our teeny and tender and testy and tough and trusting and transparent (and sometimes trying) two year old.









Meet the Dingle family, party of 8.