when two families of five become one family of eight

There were five of us: Lee, Shannon, and our three children: Jocelyn (6), Robbie (4), and Zoe (1.5).

Their family also consisted of parents and three children: Patience (6), Philip (4), and Patricia (almost 2). And then, through hard realities that I won't share here because the story is not mine to tell, these three needed a new family.

We weren't planning to adopt again so soon, considering that Zoe had just joined our family eight months before we found out about the next three children who would become ours. But these three were about to be separated, because one had tested positive for HIV and the adoption facilitator in their country thought the two who were healthy would be adopted more quickly if they were listed for adoption without their ill sibling.

Even before we voiced our prayers for these children, God's

yes

 for these children and for this adoption resounded in our hearts.

(Lest you think we were all heart and no mind, though, we did have a private investigation done to make sure the story we were being told was verified and to confirm that these children didn't have any possible in-country options for adoption or other loving family care.)

As we had before we adopted Zoe, we showed the picture above to Jocelyn and Robbie and Zoe. We told them the story of the three faces staring back at us, and we asked what they thought we should do.

Jocelyn said, "Adopt them!"

Robbie said, "That Philip is my brother, Mommy."

Zoe wasn't speaking much yet, but we know she thrives around other children, so we took her affirmation from that.

So

we announced our plans

to the interwebs, thanks to our talented photographer

(local friends, 

check her out!

)

.

Then, after paperwork and waiting and whatnot, we went - all five of us - to Uganda.

Then, six weeks later, we returned - all eight of us - from Uganda.

Want to know why we adopt?

Click here

. If you want to read about the biggest lesson God taught me in this adoption, 

this post

 tells about the hard blessings. If you'd like to learn more about HIV+ adoption, click 

here

and

here

and

here

 and

here

to read past posts about that. Wanna see how we all get around?

Meet Pluto

. Wondering why we said yes to siblings? 

Click here

. If you'd like to read about the scariest parts of our trip, read about our experiences with

malaria

and

typhoid

. (Yeah, fun times!) Then there was

homesickness

too. Finally, 

here's

where we introduced our three Ugandans in pictures for the first time on the blog.

Now?

We are blessed beyond measure!

that time we went to the school district offices for ESL testing

and I filled out a bunch of paperwork, while Patience figured out the art of selfies and stealth iPhone pics.

She starts 1st grade on Monday. We've already met her teacher, and she's fantastic. Her class is right next door to Jocelyn's class, and they'll see each other at lunch and will be able to play together at recess. Plus we've already made plans to meet a couple of Patience's classmates in front of the school on her first day and walk to class with them so she doesn't have to enter alone. 

Exciting times!

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?

two things I'm giving thanks for

This girl. And this passage.

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

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.