tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-284643712024-03-07T21:43:16.729-05:00Kristina's StoryLesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11942021817609798741noreply@blogger.comBlogger210125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28464371.post-81473105899323410242009-03-12T20:55:00.003-04:002009-03-12T21:28:19.109-04:00We've Moved!<center><a href="http://TheLandrumsBlog.blogspot.com ">http://TheLandrumsBlog.blogspot.com </a></center>Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11942021817609798741noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28464371.post-81494050143084983192009-03-07T10:36:00.009-05:002009-04-20T21:44:33.191-04:00Moving Forward?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguEoV_6RTxO-LRRyfhmO0wn-L1_pw5HxH7liEhDRfe11iSoRFbQKq1PQBmQTNIdJg7bju0AtTtQeYNZEwoAs4G-32uvNZYKebsckqDHw4u18W6AxYR0DeFp2sydqBW5yJ8l31k3g/s1600-h/move.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguEoV_6RTxO-LRRyfhmO0wn-L1_pw5HxH7liEhDRfe11iSoRFbQKq1PQBmQTNIdJg7bju0AtTtQeYNZEwoAs4G-32uvNZYKebsckqDHw4u18W6AxYR0DeFp2sydqBW5yJ8l31k3g/s320/move.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310855682224289298" /></a><br />Several phone calls back and forth between Robert and I yesterday consisted of, "You're sure?" followed by a text message to confirm in writing that he was indeed on board with another adoption. For those of you who have read my past posts, you'll know Robert wasn't the one who needed the push. We both want to add this little girl to our family, but the financial commitment scares me. We have less than a thousand dollars set aside for another adoption. <br /><br />However, in my heart, I had already committed. Her picture is the background on my cell phone. I stepped out on Friday and shared with a close friend and co-worker our desire to adopt again (and she didn't faint!). I revamped our <a href="http://thelandrumsblog.blogspot.com">family blog</a> and added a new header with all our pictures, including the little girl who would be our daughter.<br /><br />Late last night I emailed the director of the organization that advocates to find families for these special needs children. I finally fell asleep after 3:30am. When I awoke this morning, I immediately reached for my cell phone to see if she had responded. And she had.<br /><br />Because of the urgency of finding homes for these children before they are sent away to institutions, they require a financial commitment up front. The money goes into a fund that is returned to the adoptive family once they complete all their paperwork and submit their adoption petition to the Ukrainian government. It is reasonable and understandable. These children are living on borrowed time and need families who are in a position to move forward quickly to complete an adoption. "Our" little girl will be four next month. Four is the magic number that sends these precious children away from baby houses. Many do not survive the first year in these mental institution. If a family can commit to her, the orphanage director may be able to delay her transfer until the end of summer.<br /><br />I emailed the director back and let her know we weren't in the position to make that commitment, but we would try. And with that, I went back to our family blog and removed the little girl's picture from our family header. I replaced it with a heart and "+1". Then I added a PayPal donation button to the sidebar. This process will be out of our hands. We are praying and asking God to open the door to the child who would be our daughter. Please pray with us.<br /><br />With that said, we are moving. At least moving blogs. Kristina's Story was meant to chronicle our journey to adopt Kristina. God has seen that through. What was one orphan's story turned into the story of all of us. Please join us at our <a href="http://thelandrumsblog.blogspot.com/">family blog</a> to continue the journey.<br /><br /><center><i>Commit your way to the LORD,<br /> Trust also in Him, and He will do it. <br /><b>-Psalm 37:5</i></b></center><br /><CENTER><A href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target=_blank><IMG style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/395/B07769E9F6C95F70DB5DA000EA0B52AD.png"></A> </CENTER>Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11942021817609798741noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28464371.post-19877562408471735752009-03-01T19:04:00.009-05:002009-03-01T20:40:39.933-05:00Confessions of an Unfaithful Daughter<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnZzGOZXKpL0u1u9b5eBNnYt6Q2T4WIcCLhXKttDoIwDg8874oSy0n0mLfgVq5lMwdtTlsDG36V_wF9q0zCbop94f2TgKhu8P_KWWbS_8GWwi3iSJ0tMPujFiyiv4xGKZPwX78VQ/s1600-h/help-wanted-sign.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnZzGOZXKpL0u1u9b5eBNnYt6Q2T4WIcCLhXKttDoIwDg8874oSy0n0mLfgVq5lMwdtTlsDG36V_wF9q0zCbop94f2TgKhu8P_KWWbS_8GWwi3iSJ0tMPujFiyiv4xGKZPwX78VQ/s320/help-wanted-sign.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308384095362100930" /></a><br />One of my blog friends emailed me about a week ago and asked me what my hesitation was with moving forward with this adoption. Even as I clicked away my reply on the keyboard, I realized how ridiculous my response was. I found myself arguing with my own reasoning. The only hesitation we have is the financial commitment that another adoption demands. <br /><br />And yes, I know what some of you are thinking. We are the same people who adopted Kristina 15 months ago. The same people who God provided those adoption funds for. Finances couldn't be worse (yet we are thankful for what we have). The future couldn't be more uncertain (yet we know God directs our path). I laid awake from 2:30-4:30 last night thinking and praying. I tried to think of what I have of value that I could sell. There are no accounts to tap. Our savings are gone from our Mississippi adventure.<br /><br />"What you need is a benefactor," Robert teased me as I was wrestling with the numbers in my head. My instant reaction was, "I do. He owns the cattle on a thousand hills." Yet putting that faith into action is easier said than done. This is the conversation that runs through my head. See what I'm dealing with? <br /><br />We do not have the luxury of time either. The child we are praying over will age out of the orphanage she is in and, due to her disability, will be sent to an institution in a few months. It's not a place she belongs. It's not a place any child belongs. Taking decisive action is of the essence. Yet here I stand, terrified to move. If I could, I would call the facilitator and commit to this adoption tonight. If I could . . .<br /><br /><br /><center><i>And Jesus said to him, " 'If You can?' All things are possible to him who believes." <br />Immediately the boy's father cried out and said, "I do believe; help my unbelief."<br /><b>-Mark 9:23-24</i></b></center><br /><br /><CENTER><A href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target=_blank><IMG style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/395/B07769E9F6C95F70DB5DA000EA0B52AD.png"></A> </CENTER>Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11942021817609798741noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28464371.post-41662880344123709512009-02-24T21:17:00.006-05:002009-02-24T23:40:26.472-05:00A is for Adoption<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhufAYfuph2Szi_CWhqMYIA3QG4qdMMSk7IOUVLXMZg2NMjcaZdtm0llPcmntYRROEtUzuv3JK2H1XlEm8-kCYMVUSjb43f1jQZAjAUDr8KQhieQ4V2a6NP4dexqhIFN-NETFbGBg/s1600-h/a.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 314px; height: 306px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhufAYfuph2Szi_CWhqMYIA3QG4qdMMSk7IOUVLXMZg2NMjcaZdtm0llPcmntYRROEtUzuv3JK2H1XlEm8-kCYMVUSjb43f1jQZAjAUDr8KQhieQ4V2a6NP4dexqhIFN-NETFbGBg/s320/a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306585463462732130" /></a><br />My understanding of adoption, and specifically the true spirit of adoption, has been an evolving process. At the last church group we spoke to, I printed handouts that members could slip into their Bibles with a call to action, specific things they could do to minister to orphans. Robert proofread what I had typed up and quickly corrected one of my points, "Honey, you can't say God has called everyone to adoption." <br /><br />"Yes, I can. He does call us all to adoption." <br /><br />"But you can't SAY that God is calling each of them to ADOPT." <br /><br />"And why not?"<br /><br />Frustrated, he said, "Well, you just CAN'T."<br /><br />I understood what he was getting at, but quite frankly, I do believe that Christians should be ministering to orphans by bringing them into their families. There is no clearer picture of God's redemptive love than this earthly action. So why is adoption often considered "plan B" for many families? If we as Christians believe that adoption falls to those who cannot conceive otherwise, then we have missed the message of adoption.<br /><br />Adoption was always God's Plan A. It wasn't an afterthought in the redemptive plan for mankind. And perhaps what is just as humbling is WHO God chose to adopt. God chose the unwanted, the poor, the lame, the lowest of creation to redeem as his sons and daughters. That would be us, chosen to be heirs to the great King. There was nothing we brought to the table. Nothing that made us appealing. God chose us because of His boundless goodness.<br /><br />There is a waiting list for healthy newborns. Families line up to adopt these precious children. But what about the others? In advocating for older child adoption, I found myself discouraged by families who would consider adopting an infant, but didn't feel as though they were 'equipped' for anything else. Yes, healthy newborns need families too, but we've misunderstood the true spirit of adoption if we limit our role in God's calling in this way.<br /><br />I was praying to God about this and voicing my frustration months ago, when I distinctly felt Him question me about MY understanding of adoption. Would I be willing to adopt ANY orphan God placed in my path? What about another older child? What about a child of another heritage? What about a child with a disability? If I truly believed the spirit of adoption does not discriminate, then I wouldn't hesitate to say, "yes". But I examined myself and found fear. Was I 'equipped' to handle a child with a disability? Was I one of those potential adopters who put stipulations on a child that would join my family?<br /><br />And then God reminded me that adoption isn't about the adopter. It's about the orphan. It's not about filling a void in a family. It's about filling a void in a fatherless child. It's about providing a family - safety, security, and acceptance in a hostile world. And God did a strange thing. He opened my frightened heart to the possibility of adopting a child with a disability. <br /><br />I decided to test Robert on this issue and see what he thought, "I'm going to ask you a question and I don't want you to answer me right away. I want you to really think about what I'm asking you. Okay?"<br /><br />"Okay."<br /><br />"Who would you be willing to adopt? Any child?"<br /><br />I barely got the word 'child' out of my mouth when he replied, "Any child."<br /><br />"No! I told you to really think about it. Don't give me a gut response. Really think about what I'm asking. Would you be willing to adopt a child with special needs?"<br /><br />This time he thought for about 10 seconds before he replied, "Yeah. Any child. They need families too, right?" <br /><br />What does this mean for us? Can we meet the needs of a disabled child? Do we have the strength and resources? Of course. All those things come from God. We have many adoptive friends who have walked this path and adopted children rejected by their mothers, their homelands, and potential families because they weren't healthy infants. Their stories are inspiring testimonies to the goodness of God. In them we see the true spirit of adoption. We see what God intended. We see Plan A.<br /><br /><center><i>My brethren, do not hold your faith in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ with an attitude of personal favoritism. For if a man comes into your assembly with a gold ring and dressed in fine clothes, and there also comes in a poor man in dirty clothes, and you pay special attention to the one who is wearing the fine clothes, and say, "You sit here in a good place," and you say to the poor man, "You stand over there, or sit down by my footstool," have you not made distinctions among yourselves, and become judges with evil motives? <br /><br />Listen, my beloved brethren: did not God choose the poor of this world to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom which He promised to those who love Him?<br /><b>-James 2:1-5</i></b></center>Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11942021817609798741noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28464371.post-41361301014716090122009-02-22T22:36:00.004-05:002009-02-23T00:07:46.843-05:00Unbreakable<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirE67v_ow9z5jwpvGyHmKKGX1wbJl3bX13jb3VsT8UfZYWhxKQGJvoHsDSiOrYJ594VJ6hc0XbmZO43VmV17bk7gTfsDmlaepPATI7W58v92cMjtpppxAUPRoAcN4-6MmrKUGq9g/s1600-h/rope.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirE67v_ow9z5jwpvGyHmKKGX1wbJl3bX13jb3VsT8UfZYWhxKQGJvoHsDSiOrYJ594VJ6hc0XbmZO43VmV17bk7gTfsDmlaepPATI7W58v92cMjtpppxAUPRoAcN4-6MmrKUGq9g/s320/rope.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305855045335005874" /></a><br /><i><center>Two are better than one because they have a good return for their labor. <br />For if either of them falls, the one will lift up his companion. But woe to the one who falls when there is not another to lift him up. <br />Furthermore, if two lie down together they keep warm, but how can one be warm alone? <br />And if one can overpower him who is alone, two can resist him. A cord of three strands is not quickly torn apart.<br /><b>-Ecclesiastes 4:9-12</b></i></center><br /><br />Last Thursday night I was literally at the end of my proverbial rope. I was frantically trying to help Nathanael construct a mosaic for an ancient Rome project and Samuel cook Tiger Sweets for an ancient Egypt project. Somewhere in the midst of supervising wet cement pouring and cooking one of the oldest known recipes to man, I felt myself unraveling. Hannah still needed help with math, Kristina wanted to bounce ideas off of me for a project due next week, Joshua needed a special lunch packed for his field trip the next day, and a stack of ungraded essays beckoned impatiently from the other room. God has brought the above verse to mind when I've felt overwhelmed in the last few weeks. He has reminded me that I'm not alone. <br /><br />Robert came in Saturday morning and I can honestly say "phew!". We are all so happy to have him here for a few days! We've easily fallen back into our comfortable routine. Robert and the boys watching old horror movies, Robert teasing Kristina like a smitten eight year old, the humor of filling up an entire row of pews at church. It's good to be together again. <br /><br />Even with all there is to keep me busy, my heart has been heavy recently with adoption issues. We've been talking about adopting again for some time and so the topic isn't necessarily new. I immediately broached the subject to see where he was with all of it.<br /><br />"Honey, I really feel burdened to return to Ukraine. I know the timing is terrible and finances couldn't be worse, but I really want to go." <br /><br />"Okay."<br /><br />"Okay? I mean, I'm not necessarily talking about returning to Odessa. I feel like there's another area I should visit with children in more dire circumstances."<br /><br />"Okay."<br /><br />It was the same nonchalance with which he greeted my suggestion about adopting an older child two years ago. Such a sweet man. He humors me, but I know he would buy the plane ticket tomorrow if we could and let me follow my heart. I am so grateful to have a husband who shares my desire to love these children.<br /><br />And there is a child. This child may simply be another <a href="http://kristinasstory.blogspot.com/2007/11/sophias-gift.html">"Sophia"</a> meant to lead our hearts in trusting God, but the child is there nonetheless. I've stared at the photo saved to my laptop repeatedly over the last month. I check my email constantly hoping for some further information or photos from other families who have recently visited the orphanage. Why now? Why am I so drawn? I hesitate to even share this, but I'm hoping you'll pray. Pray that God will make His will clear and fill us with faith for whatever He calls us to. It is not good that any child should be alone. Pray that God will provide a family for this child . . . to lift up, to keep warm, to protect . . . whoever that may be.Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11942021817609798741noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28464371.post-11831053853839451402009-02-15T21:10:00.003-05:002009-02-15T22:38:05.231-05:00Can You Hear Me Now?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo84vRor0cbiPemUa2EBBveMI8ewEqyBjHshLc8bbeXhFa5HwqPclLZL9Dhp9d9M9-nEVo4FOoj5sIsWOSwYMgjja6JQrWqaQADmZiN8DN9wON2RHVrEzq10UcqoqFklPLk7dryg/s1600-h/cell.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 314px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo84vRor0cbiPemUa2EBBveMI8ewEqyBjHshLc8bbeXhFa5HwqPclLZL9Dhp9d9M9-nEVo4FOoj5sIsWOSwYMgjja6JQrWqaQADmZiN8DN9wON2RHVrEzq10UcqoqFklPLk7dryg/s320/cell.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303233670076537010" /></a><br />Kristina has wanted a cell phone since she arrived here and we have told her "no" repeatedly for several reasons. Mostly, we didn't feel she possessed the maturity to handle the privledge. And we've made it a rule that whenever the kids insist that they "need" something, we put them off until they understand the difference between "want" and "need". Kristina still struggles with that one. <br /><br />Nathanael and Hannah both have prepaid phones that they each purchased with their own money. They don't use the phones compulsively and they budget their minutes to ensure they keep their phones. Our kids don't receive an allowance. Any money they have, they earn. Kristina pointed to them and claimed it wasn't fair that they had phones and she didn't. Another thing not to say to me: "fair". I explained why we didn't feel she was ready for the responsibility and reminded her that she couldn't afford to buy one anyway. <br /><br />Well, she saved. Last weekend she had enough to buy the cheapest prepaid phone available and a small pack of minutes to activate it. I had the phone taken apart and was typing the serial number into the online activation page when Kristina exclaimed, "Oh! My phone was made in Korea!" Confused over her enthusiasm, I looked up for more explaination. Seeing my perplexed stare, she explained, "My best friend was made in Korea!" I laughed to myself. Her best friend Isabelle at school is Korean. <br /><br />Once I had her phone activated and setup, I turned it over to her with a overview of how things worked, how much text messages cost, and voice calls so she could keep up with her account. I reminded her that when her minutes were gone they were gone until she saved up enough to replenish her account. I wasn't thrilled about the whole thing, but Robert thought it would be a good experience for her.<br /><br />Her phone was activated on Wednesday afternoon and later that evening I logged onto her online account to make sure the promo code for minutes went through. In a three hour period, she had managed to send and receive a total of over 70 text messages. Half of the minutes she had purchased were gone. I was livid. What I thought would happen was happening. I was upset at her lack of stewardship and self control. Robert, however, thought it was great. "What are you so upset over?" he asked, "She's going to be out of minutes in a few days. It will be a great learning lesson for her." <br /><br />I called her over to see the online account activity on her phone. She knew she did exactly what I told her not to do. I showed her how much money was left on her account and reminded her, "when it's gone, it's gone". Since Wednesday she has sent two text messages: one to a friend telling her she couldn't text for awhile and one to her dad telling him she loves him. Lesson learned.Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11942021817609798741noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28464371.post-42117148374167660282009-02-02T10:52:00.003-05:002009-02-02T11:28:37.155-05:00Resolutions Revisited<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrzMG7CgJZd9KHyzaDof9POFwngxvwlhiDx7-0AiEkLmNenv3vXUR1dr6lQ4jQ4k27CM11SyQ1At930sZq4hvaCNDDZyS7AFpbcnkDQzTs1b3zFx2rVMvGHSJ7S57CMzTaxuFq7A/s1600-h/rewind.bmp"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 220px; height: 220px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrzMG7CgJZd9KHyzaDof9POFwngxvwlhiDx7-0AiEkLmNenv3vXUR1dr6lQ4jQ4k27CM11SyQ1At930sZq4hvaCNDDZyS7AFpbcnkDQzTs1b3zFx2rVMvGHSJ7S57CMzTaxuFq7A/s320/rewind.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298237044478117826" /></a><br />Okay, let me explain. A month ago I posted some resolutions that I hoped would stick; one of which was to post more often. It's been ten days since my last post (doesn't that sound like the intro at an AA meeting???) and I've already gotten a few "Ahem . . . .?"'s from several of you. So let me fill you in on what's going on. <br /><br />Many of you know that we moved to Mississippi last summer. Our house has been on the market back in Florida. I started a dream teaching job and Robert had no doubt he would be able to pick up in the construction business once we arrived. Fast forward seven months and the house still hasn't sold (sound familiar, <a href="http://sixsunflowerseeds.blogspot.com/">Tami</a>?), the construction industry in South Mississippi has literally dried up because of the economy, and . . . well . . . my job still rocks. Long story short, Robert moved back to Florida a few weeks ago where he is already working on a beautiful 5000 sq foot house. I have been playing single parent in the interim and missing him terribly. In fact, I'm sitting in a public library in Orlando right now typing this. I flew in for a long weekend to spend some time with him and I fly back to Mississippi tonight. So we've all had to be flexible and prayerful about what the future holds. Nothing in stone, but if the house doesn't sell by the time my contract is up at the end of the school year, we will likely need to move back to Florida. It's a bittersweet fact and I am simply laying it all at the Master's feet. <br /><br />So let me touch on the resolutions and let you know where I stand with all of it:<br /><strong>1. More personal devotion time.</strong><br />I'm actually doing really well with this one. I spend some time reading and praying each morning before the children get up. <br /><br /><strong>2. Specific devotion with the girls.</strong><br />This one hasn't taken off yet. With the current situation, it's been difficult to carve out time for devotion that doesn't include the boys. I'm working on it though!<br /><br /><strong>3. More exercise</strong><br />I'm actually doing really well with this one and enjoying the benefits. I purposely avoid scales like the plague, but I did get on one when I got home. I've lost 12 pounds since I was here over Christmas. Not bad!<br /><br /><strong>4.Raise orphan awareness</strong><br />Still a burning passion in my heart. We're looking at travel options for the Spring/Summer. I've had a few more requests for the DVD and some encouraging emails about the effect of the video on several people. Praise God! YouTube removed the audio from our Orphans of Ukraine video recently which really bummed me out. But hey, the fact that its been seen over 46,000 times is amazing!!! <br /><br /><strong>5. Following a tighter budget</strong><br />Doing good! I'm surprised what we can get by on now that Robert's not part of the household budget. Just joking, hon!!!<br /><br /><strong>6. More home cooked meals</strong><br />Getting better at this one. The kids have been great about chipping in with the cooking more.<br /><br /><strong>7. Writing </strong><br />Still planning on this! It's always in the back of my mind, things I want to tell you about. It seems like from the time we get home from school, exercise, do homework, cook dinner, clean up, and have baths it's already 10pm!<br /><br /><strong>8.Actively seek God about adding to our family.</strong><br />I got several questions on this one and wish I had more details to share. We haven't identified a child/ren at this point. We are prayerfully considering the true spirit of adoption and looking for more than a healthy infant, perhaps even a child with delays or handicaps. Pray with us on that!<br /><br />So that's where we stand! Lots on going on and a future with lots more to anticipate. Post again soon . . . I promise!Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11942021817609798741noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28464371.post-59771504157268067302009-01-21T21:54:00.005-05:002009-01-23T13:01:45.598-05:00A Place to Belong<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEsMDEFaIIetTKs1ndUKtne6FZN5qco6f2ZCpTyRB_FnbmI8-zGDUA18gg-3-XZoUoIREFop5UM7YN3rCqUzN-yB4BJMZJAGjhQ7k3uaHEMpDEXLDQh4LMuPr9Ze1FIIWh-zjykQ/s1600-h/IMG_2799.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEsMDEFaIIetTKs1ndUKtne6FZN5qco6f2ZCpTyRB_FnbmI8-zGDUA18gg-3-XZoUoIREFop5UM7YN3rCqUzN-yB4BJMZJAGjhQ7k3uaHEMpDEXLDQh4LMuPr9Ze1FIIWh-zjykQ/s400/IMG_2799.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293962217001552754" /></a><br />At first, I thought it was one of those annoying spam comments that end up on the blog periodically. You know, the ones that are in a foreign language and point you to some website selling t-shirts. Upon closer inspection, I saw Kristina's name and realized it was a message for her. It was a message from her best friend in the orphanage. A girl who was the closest thing to a sister Kristina has ever known. Karina's <a href="http://storeygraceinperu.blogspot.com/">adoptive family </a>is in Odessa to claim their daughter and they must have allowed Karina on the computer to send this message across cyberspace. <br /><br />I knew Kristina would be ecstatic. She jumped up and down reading and re-reading the message on my cell phone. She wanted to get on the computer right away and post a message for Karina on the <a href="http://storeygraceinperu.blogspot.com/">Nasekos' blog</a>. We were due to youth group though, so I promised she could write as soon as we returned home. Holding me to my promise, she plopped down on her bed with the laptop and began to click away on the keyboard two hours later. She was so happy, I clicked a few pictures of her. <br /><br />Periodically she'd look up and regale me with a memory of her time with Karina. The clicking on the keyboard became slower and the interruptions to share a memory with me became more frequent. Before I knew it, she was remembering things that made her shake as she spoke. She gripped the sides of the keyboard and her voice grew tense as she struggled to hide her feelings. In her mind's eye she was seeing old photos of her mother, the pigs her grandmother owned, and the first orphanage she lived in. Eyes downcast, she was remembering running away from the orphanage and navigating public transportation back to her father's house. She was seven years old. She was remembering the pain of feeling his anger upon finding her on his doorstep and then him escorting her back to the orphanage. He made sure she understood that the orphanage was her home. The orphanage was where she belonged.<br /><br />My heart broke watching her relive these memories and share them with me afresh. Sensing my empathy to her pain, she set the computer to the side and made her way into my arms. I reminded her she would never wonder about home again. She would never question where she belonged. Her father had lost out by throwing her away. He had missed out on knowing a beautiful girl and we had been blessed to scoop her up and make her our own.<br /><br />Kristina has moments where she cannot remember things from the past, even as recently as my first trip to Ukraine in 2006 where we met. She expends a great deal of energy suppressing a painful past. Tonight is the first time in six months that she has chosen to open up and talk. We don't push her to share; we know that things come when she is ready to talk. Please pray for our beautiful jewel of a child. We are so blessed to have her as part of our family. <br><br /><center><i>God sets the lonely in families. <br /><b>- Psalm 68:6</b> </center></i><br /><CENTER><A href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target=_blank><IMG style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/395/B07769E9F6C95F70DB5DA000EA0B52AD.png"></A> </CENTER>Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11942021817609798741noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28464371.post-56263250413530372742009-01-18T11:21:00.003-05:002009-01-18T19:56:50.427-05:00Mom, Look What I Can Do!!!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjizEkrjg-wHSzbIGYA8Ij-OyYC-xZsH-o5KrhKTVD8ecqEPSG1s4LU0xGBFRiZj8ifZm0LbuR-kpp00cqAMqOVc-7Oh2C7aOUP7BTCxIJM1Ih4v_RhSBQ8RGuUzvYoQaVuW_4_bQ/s1600-h/DeskHeader.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjizEkrjg-wHSzbIGYA8Ij-OyYC-xZsH-o5KrhKTVD8ecqEPSG1s4LU0xGBFRiZj8ifZm0LbuR-kpp00cqAMqOVc-7Oh2C7aOUP7BTCxIJM1Ih4v_RhSBQ8RGuUzvYoQaVuW_4_bQ/s400/DeskHeader.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292688154520093746" /></a><br />I blame <a href="http://jerdebwalker.blogspot.com/">Debbie</a> and <a href="http://sixsunflowerseeds.blogspot.com/">Tami</a> for teaching me in the first place, but I have learned how to make my own blog headers (like the one above) and backgrounds!!! It's a good thing this is a three day weekend. Now I have time to play around and see what I can create. Robert hates the current pink layout. He thinks it looks like a 12 year old's blog. I think he's just jealous. After all, he did ask me if I could custom create one for him. I'm working on my fourth layout for Kristina's Story. He'll just have to wait!!!<CENTER><A href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target=_blank><IMG style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/395/B07769E9F6C95F70DB5DA000EA0B52AD.png"></A> </CENTER>Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11942021817609798741noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28464371.post-89381323345480088882009-01-09T21:57:00.006-05:002009-01-09T22:37:36.646-05:00Called Out<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNH8jMtSZ2IhSus2aiJW5k99QvRt3TQQe7vHg89IEClvmxqfTwuheVq73LVPToTTC2Ki5Hcq9k8lkgTyzFlPwUJ0mRLS5EUcKFAL5u6uVZRXEZ-ys2VRQ-FwQT7iFkWczx41_uTw/s1600-h/deluring.bmp"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNH8jMtSZ2IhSus2aiJW5k99QvRt3TQQe7vHg89IEClvmxqfTwuheVq73LVPToTTC2Ki5Hcq9k8lkgTyzFlPwUJ0mRLS5EUcKFAL5u6uVZRXEZ-ys2VRQ-FwQT7iFkWczx41_uTw/s320/deluring.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289500236686407266" /></a><br />I am always fascinated by the locations that pop up daily on our blog's live traffic feed. We have visitors from all over the world! According to Jennifer, one of our adoption buddies, it's National Delurking Week. I've never done this, but I must admit I'm curious. If you're reading this, whether it's your first time stopping by or you're a regular visitor, leave me a comment. Introduce yourself or just say "hi". Did you find us through our website? Another blog? Adoption network? I'm curious to see who we're sharing blog space with!<CENTER><A href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target=_blank><IMG style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/395/B07769E9F6C95F70DB5DA000EA0B52AD.png"></A> </CENTER>Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11942021817609798741noreply@blogger.com32tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28464371.post-54622639491691326782009-01-07T20:22:00.005-05:002009-01-07T20:39:06.708-05:00Play With Your Food<CENTER><br /><OBJECT class=BLOG_video_class id=BLOG_video-138bbdb57bff9ad2 height=266 width=320 contentId="138bbdb57bff9ad2"></OBJECT></CENTER>Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11942021817609798741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28464371.post-38569178195136538512009-01-05T20:06:00.009-05:002009-01-07T20:20:16.254-05:00What's Under the Porch?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmBZ58SuZmI8GlXbpO7mN2GFYxxg9PZk9XS55FIUX98MJew2aI3y0YJg02OAtlki2oNN7boWKCya61Ek7Pop-yNPVGqaJRoic4IQFe0TQaSSRLmQRiH69PUD8OuWRW4BTyNzvj_Q/s1600-h/P9120725.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmBZ58SuZmI8GlXbpO7mN2GFYxxg9PZk9XS55FIUX98MJew2aI3y0YJg02OAtlki2oNN7boWKCya61Ek7Pop-yNPVGqaJRoic4IQFe0TQaSSRLmQRiH69PUD8OuWRW4BTyNzvj_Q/s320/P9120725.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287991400933569618" /></a><br />When we first moved in to our rental in Mississippi, we quickly learned that the property came with a resident cat . . . and she wasn't alone. The gorgeous pale gray tabby was sweet and friendly with large black rimmed eyes. It wasn't hard to tell that she was a little large around the middle so the kids aptly dubbed her "Prego". <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjtPKwaDMajxIuc5CNo43uW3b2aDhHxYhf1aO1m1HllbMTmzaI5Yna1d5_oNTbv-g3Geo7-W4GILXgpqTeeBSx4t_NwmOapx9ZydaOkJ7VGk8b0xmOpBPKM6BVvrxPX3jFhG8wRA/s1600-h/P9120716.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjtPKwaDMajxIuc5CNo43uW3b2aDhHxYhf1aO1m1HllbMTmzaI5Yna1d5_oNTbv-g3Geo7-W4GILXgpqTeeBSx4t_NwmOapx9ZydaOkJ7VGk8b0xmOpBPKM6BVvrxPX3jFhG8wRA/s320/P9120716.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287992671632672002" /></a> <br />A few weeks after we arrived, six tiny kittens emerged from the shadows of the porch to find five surrogate "moms" in the kids. Chub Chub, Speedy, Cheetah, Jackie, Daredevil, and Minnie greeted the kids each afternoon as the school bus rumbled to a stop in front of the house. Homework was more palatable done on the floor of the porch as kittens chased each other around your shoes. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhobndHbCdG_x2dtcIF1S3CxV8u2sVw88whfD6ZGPbLBRyAPduMIWYfGFyWXUVjvNQxerh_xHJqSiizdksJxCyQO3rrAmPG0GnKc1TcTjs4ieWiZCJe4vY9XSh6QJYFI50qRoIwSw/s1600-h/P9160771.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhobndHbCdG_x2dtcIF1S3CxV8u2sVw88whfD6ZGPbLBRyAPduMIWYfGFyWXUVjvNQxerh_xHJqSiizdksJxCyQO3rrAmPG0GnKc1TcTjs4ieWiZCJe4vY9XSh6QJYFI50qRoIwSw/s320/P9160771.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287993419788375890" /></a><br />Books were easier to read when propped on the pile of kittens that clambered into your lap for a nap as soon as you sat down. We lost our beloved Jack cat when we first moved to MS, so the kittens presence has been a balm to sooth that loss. We've enjoyed having these little treats from under the porch!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEPu-fEusbPM_6o2LZ0EDnykTPTD2z3Q5NwnXQQxppjx8WUV0sZD_FLk2k5QrePeQCvjkX8ADBacmkNoiDkq7GXKbPhtJe2gTlYkFoVTTXTBi9oaGHjHpMA_JjUwvMGg1j-WhYdQ/s1600-h/P9270789.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEPu-fEusbPM_6o2LZ0EDnykTPTD2z3Q5NwnXQQxppjx8WUV0sZD_FLk2k5QrePeQCvjkX8ADBacmkNoiDkq7GXKbPhtJe2gTlYkFoVTTXTBi9oaGHjHpMA_JjUwvMGg1j-WhYdQ/s320/P9270789.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287993950988277042" /></a><CENTER><A href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target=_blank><IMG style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/395/B07769E9F6C95F70DB5DA000EA0B52AD.png"></A> </CENTER>Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11942021817609798741noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28464371.post-48523202601955369212009-01-04T21:57:00.002-05:002009-01-04T23:16:58.434-05:00New Year's Resolutions<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQfZBtzK_4OyCuJ3EqmplVjfV1elGg-bhmdfvKJmypxtr19R83QJZyX__VHcM0J4r-txCzsQMOYoAS96z-rNaMHRkF2mk1giKaDbV-8Xyf_101axocuAc1dfF9OEpVxaWndbtcmw/s1600-h/midnight.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 228px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQfZBtzK_4OyCuJ3EqmplVjfV1elGg-bhmdfvKJmypxtr19R83QJZyX__VHcM0J4r-txCzsQMOYoAS96z-rNaMHRkF2mk1giKaDbV-8Xyf_101axocuAc1dfF9OEpVxaWndbtcmw/s320/midnight.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287632424891566466" /></a><br />I always made them in my mind, but rarely shared them. People tend to hold you to these things once you publicize them. "Hey, is that a chili dog you're eating? Weren't you going on a diet?" But maybe that's the point. Putting it out there obligates us somewhat to keeping them . . . or at least trying. So what's on my list this year?<br /><br /><strong>1. More personal devotion time.</strong><br />Do we all make this one? I'm determined to make it the priority it should be. <br /><br /><strong>2. Specific devotion with the girls.</strong><br />We're starting one of Dr. Kistler's publications John Angell Jones' <em>Female Piety</em> this week. I see the girls coming into their own as young women. They're at a cross roads with many issues and this book really provides the ground for conversation on modesty, godliness, and their future calling as Christian women.<br /><br /><strong>3. More exercise</strong><br />We have thoroughly enjoyed all the running and playing we've done over Christmas break. Unfortunately, we couldn't bring the bikes back to MS, but we did bring the football and basketball!<br /><br /><strong>4.Raise orphan awareness</strong><br />We've been so wrapped up in our moving experience in the last 6 months, that we haven't sought opportunities to share like we should. Our speaking engagement a few weeks back resulted in a phone call tonight. Several members would like to travel to Ukraine with us and minister to these children. Praise God. <br /><br /><strong>5. Following a tighter budget</strong><br />This one is a plain necessity!<br /><br /><strong>6. More home cooked meals</strong><br />This falls off the radar more than I'd like to admit. I think the secret is to plan ahead. I love using the crock pot. Any suggestions???<br /><br /><strong>7. Writing </strong><br />Yes, I'm saying I plan to blog more consistently. I really am. Really.<br /><br /><strong>8.Actively seek God about adding to our family.</strong><br />We're ready. We really are. Really.<br /><br />I'm offically tagging: <br /><a href="http://thekaysers.blogspot.com/">Jen K.</a><br /><a href="http://lovedalready.blogspot.com/">Melissa E.</a><br /><a href="http://sixsunflowerseeds.blogspot.com/">Tami</a><br /><a href="http://fumia.blogspot.com/">Ashley</a><br /><a href="http://hoffmannclan.blogspot.com/">Debbie</a><br /><a href="http://twojourneysofgrace.blogspot.com/">Stephanee</a><br /><a href="http://smilesandtrials.blogspot.com/">Christine</a><br /><a href="http://storinguptreasuresinheaven.blogspot.com/">Courtney</a><br /><br />What's on your list this year? Even if I didn't tag you, feel free to play along; leave me a comment or shoot me an email letting me know so I can check out your blog! I promise, no comments if I see you with a chili dog in a few weeks!<br /><CENTER><A href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target=_blank><IMG style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/395/B07769E9F6C95F70DB5DA000EA0B52AD.png"></A> </CENTER>Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11942021817609798741noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28464371.post-31944240084428572362009-01-03T20:32:00.000-05:002009-01-04T21:57:47.604-05:00The Long Haul<CENTER><br /><OBJECT class=BLOG_video_class id=BLOG_video-3b208bf2e2301397 height=266 width=320 contentId="3b208bf2e2301397"></OBJECT></CENTER>On Friday we decided to test our ability to ride our old bike path: a 21 mile stretch. The wonderful phone Robert gave me for our anniversary has an amazing program that uses GPS to track and map our entire route, measuring miles traveled, time, elevation, calories burned etc. We just had to try it out! We started the path with high hopes, but by the time we reached the trail head roughly 3 miles from the house, we were beginning to wonder if we'd be able to endure the entire journey. <A href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIYVKFAAKSJ_rq-4SNh55GoKm6dVBE_OlFxvQ40K-BedgbjtKfj4KuY_0FKIlMrH-18DdY2scPjXIckY8InUCjWvcEhD5MZ2h8krQxYrIXNAJBUk9vqIVvuXun35IzvhoBHOjM-Q/s1600-h/P1020864.JPG"><IMG id=BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287621622091996946 style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIYVKFAAKSJ_rq-4SNh55GoKm6dVBE_OlFxvQ40K-BedgbjtKfj4KuY_0FKIlMrH-18DdY2scPjXIckY8InUCjWvcEhD5MZ2h8krQxYrIXNAJBUk9vqIVvuXun35IzvhoBHOjM-Q/s320/P1020864.JPG" border=0></A> Nevertheless, we pedaled on and made it to the 10.5 mile mark and our resting point before we knew it. We took a break and had a light lunch before braving our way back. The girls befriended two horses in a nearby pasture and spent some time cooing to the animals until they managed to entice one to the fence. <A href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsHcNGl7WisoU_dporeOStEwJ4l_kOtPe6G1pvxe3K92X0vNrzRkdrRIU-70LIcrDs3aX0vL33q4f8YyjWgtVLMDWfyH7qnOOvd5M_vH2xvbyJBJd0gUTQyuAWvnHWz6Y5bjIwSQ/s1600-h/P1020873.JPG"><IMG id=BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287622262517808930 style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsHcNGl7WisoU_dporeOStEwJ4l_kOtPe6G1pvxe3K92X0vNrzRkdrRIU-70LIcrDs3aX0vL33q4f8YyjWgtVLMDWfyH7qnOOvd5M_vH2xvbyJBJd0gUTQyuAWvnHWz6Y5bjIwSQ/s320/P1020873.JPG" border=0></A> <br /><center><OBJECT class=BLOG_video_class id=BLOG_video-7086a1edde116a0 height=266 width=320 contentId="7086a1edde116a0"></OBJECT></center><br />Our friend Ulyses met us and decided he would ride all the way back with us. Brave soul! It was perfect weather and we were able to chat and laugh on the way back. That made the going much easier. We were about a mile from the house when Kristina wiped out. She laughed it off though and was more upset about the dirt on her jeans than anything else. Such a girl! <A href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMXgAeBWTcjOtnPZwTxdhoq0C-O3B4GQOkLN1OilSNJFT3M9sBihNpTBJHhgW76iBDPjCCinlJ_gCYKf99VOHujA24OvFu56Xac1AT5oYboidWYMGoUYeQFgdFi_RqVHfz4FNSOA/s1600-h/P1020881.JPG"><IMG id=BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287622749911006322 style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMXgAeBWTcjOtnPZwTxdhoq0C-O3B4GQOkLN1OilSNJFT3M9sBihNpTBJHhgW76iBDPjCCinlJ_gCYKf99VOHujA24OvFu56Xac1AT5oYboidWYMGoUYeQFgdFi_RqVHfz4FNSOA/s320/P1020881.JPG" border=0></A> <br /><CENTER><A href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target=_blank><IMG style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/395/B07769E9F6C95F70DB5DA000EA0B52AD.png"></A> </CENTER>Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11942021817609798741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28464371.post-21689204576484651072008-12-30T07:54:00.002-05:002009-01-01T23:32:42.374-05:00On The Road Again<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5DNzpcvXtGmzodzgFqh9KZ60hAE_3eQH8qeDFxUPX_xL_483cPDnuthqhJx6e0BT11EXqIdAe1TPRakTIsu4L4Zg-I5eYayCPIuk2AL5XR_eYb5NsWvNbwrncv0gZsuRg15j-4Q/s1600-h/PC270855.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5DNzpcvXtGmzodzgFqh9KZ60hAE_3eQH8qeDFxUPX_xL_483cPDnuthqhJx6e0BT11EXqIdAe1TPRakTIsu4L4Zg-I5eYayCPIuk2AL5XR_eYb5NsWvNbwrncv0gZsuRg15j-4Q/s320/PC270855.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284563047410345650" /></a><br />One of the things we have missed so much about Florida is the access to outdoor activities, specifically biking. Earlier this week we retrieved the bikes and set out to retrace the bike paths that we had mapped many times. Thinking back to the time that <a href="http://kristinasstory.blogspot.com/2006/07/have-bike-will-travel.html">Kristina learned to ride</a>, I had to lag behind and snap a pic when I saw her riding fearlessly with arms straight out. What a journey we have all been on since this child has come into our lives.<br /><br />Yesterday we decided to ride to one of the state parks in our area. Following the designated roadway, we cycled along in single file. As we were making our way along the main street, I noticed a man in an oncoming car wagging his finger at us. I took a quick survey. We were all on the designated path; all the children were wearing helmets. As his car came closer, I realized he was counting. "Yes," I thought, "There are seven of us." I suppose we look like a veritable parade trekking along. <br /><br />We parked our bikes and wandered the pathway around the lake and through the forest looking for raccoons and baby gators. We were scattered along the boardwalk, each taking our own pace to gaze at a fish in the water or a spider skittering along a transparent web, when I observed Robert drape his arm across the broad shoulders of one of the twins just ahead of me. His voice drifted back, "Son, there's no where I would rather be than here with you, enjoying God's creation. You're growing into a fine young man." And then he pulled back to look him in the face and said, "Oh, wait. You're not Nathanael!" I laughed at his joke as Nathanael made his way over to see what was so funny. The three of them set off and pulling the rest of us in their wake. "Boys, you're both growing into fine young men . . . despite your mother's negative influence." I refused to rise to the bait reflecting on the fact that he waited until he was safely several paces ahead before he made such an observation. <br /><br />Our time back in Florida for Christmas Break has seemed dreamlike, unreal. We miss the lifestyle we had here and the routine we have so easily fallen back into since returning. Worshipping at our home church, dinner and a movie with old friends last night, movie night with my college girls tonight, coffee with Z tomorrow, and dessert with an old colleague and his wife the next day makes contemplating returning to Mississippi a weary endeavor. While I look forward to returning to work and visiting church with some of my adoption blog buddies back in Mississippi, we have been blessed to have this respite.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAplsRwd2uHEaYmcMbRW2xXo9jLab7VVwDcEK6nDyFspcP0uX0qKiKECB7pcM0Fs0yZW-lb1sH0pL1j4hG7JzqX1XdU1fcQIP5oKT_98cui1eiJSd0LKUNx82Qr8tAYmCQkHLmqw/s1600-h/PC280859.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAplsRwd2uHEaYmcMbRW2xXo9jLab7VVwDcEK6nDyFspcP0uX0qKiKECB7pcM0Fs0yZW-lb1sH0pL1j4hG7JzqX1XdU1fcQIP5oKT_98cui1eiJSd0LKUNx82Qr8tAYmCQkHLmqw/s320/PC280859.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285573086903858578" /></a><center><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/395/B07769E9F6C95F70DB5DA000EA0B52AD.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/></a><br /></center>Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11942021817609798741noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28464371.post-55591180891664633292008-12-26T17:26:00.009-05:002008-12-27T15:10:47.795-05:00Go Long<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq2drRbF418czroa5YwTg4JQQVFMD_Hw7XKaS4q5rVeX4g3FTYR4DEzYrcb3l9ZmfLe4KhMQcPTljqJgc05M4pIkz421eR3nJKkoqOVkyVIj-rM2av2427jBpWjqkK_VXYQ42D8Q/s1600-h/IMG_2657.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq2drRbF418czroa5YwTg4JQQVFMD_Hw7XKaS4q5rVeX4g3FTYR4DEzYrcb3l9ZmfLe4KhMQcPTljqJgc05M4pIkz421eR3nJKkoqOVkyVIj-rM2av2427jBpWjqkK_VXYQ42D8Q/s320/IMG_2657.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284102077649252146" /></a><br />"You know how to do The Bomb, right?" Robert asked tossing the football between his right and left hand. Kristina eyed him skeptically. Determined to stay out of it, I raised my book a little higher and feigned increased interest in the current passage. From my vantage point on the front lawn, I could see she was curious. <br /><br />"You're going to run straight out and then cut right or left, but you've really got to run far out," he instructed. <br /><br />Hand propped on hip, she countered, "What do you mean?" <br /><br />"Leslie! Leslie, come show Kristina how to do The Bomb, " Robert implored.<br /><br />"Robert, I don't do The Bomb. I am The Bomb," I replied without lowering the book.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjudZlfnz0zvskxRBUhi_eOYaB3GGBR5kpaLME0vEyTB_8VUFU9-R9yTiwC1Ewut7Mg9SIhQHWFwwKka0GO6gmacO3Kibg6rD9TyPDF37-i9AFnpwt7cGwwrUC2bnGyAiAi6TSQeA/s1600-h/IMG_2636.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjudZlfnz0zvskxRBUhi_eOYaB3GGBR5kpaLME0vEyTB_8VUFU9-R9yTiwC1Ewut7Mg9SIhQHWFwwKka0GO6gmacO3Kibg6rD9TyPDF37-i9AFnpwt7cGwwrUC2bnGyAiAi6TSQeA/s320/IMG_2636.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284102714683204066" /></a><br /><br />I heard his sigh of exasperation as he recruited Samuel and Hannah. An hour later and they were red faced and laughing hysterically at each other in the street. I couldn't resist setting my book aside to take up the camera and click a few shots.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlExOBpljZo1d2PvWqcCCmX9mbhsCh_IY3jvxYGaLATbvCDqA1D9pjCt5mzlslzPE9FUIk2uSunvRZn5VEczU9P8W3KoRz_jrIzjo3oEu1wB05jnrPZu_goUyU28neyCdPdLFYqA/s1600-h/IMG_2687.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlExOBpljZo1d2PvWqcCCmX9mbhsCh_IY3jvxYGaLATbvCDqA1D9pjCt5mzlslzPE9FUIk2uSunvRZn5VEczU9P8W3KoRz_jrIzjo3oEu1wB05jnrPZu_goUyU28neyCdPdLFYqA/s320/IMG_2687.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284102730783635618" /></a><br /><center><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/395/B07769E9F6C95F70DB5DA000EA0B52AD.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/></a><br /></center>Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11942021817609798741noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28464371.post-59410632385360957382008-12-26T06:30:00.007-05:002008-12-27T15:11:04.753-05:00What You Can Live Without<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg91-l7LmLEURT9mhnl7YkLpboN5A78nGqOAJaV_xfHczLG8vOKAWJePz0XUWCcvtbIA7aoj7Wh1ToJvXV9EPKqwO30L2FkjFEUh0PyIBmFe1Wc0hpcMvK3BQspMXOsl-vuHni7Aw/s1600-h/PC260849.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg91-l7LmLEURT9mhnl7YkLpboN5A78nGqOAJaV_xfHczLG8vOKAWJePz0XUWCcvtbIA7aoj7Wh1ToJvXV9EPKqwO30L2FkjFEUh0PyIBmFe1Wc0hpcMvK3BQspMXOsl-vuHni7Aw/s320/PC260849.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284068768546451602" /></a><br />A week without internet access is wearing on me, so I have tagged along to Robert's sunrise Bible study this morning. Today is Kristina's turn. They have picked up hot chocolate from Starbucks and settled into a small booth behind me at Panera while I type away my thoughts from the week. Initially, it takes Kristina a bit to settle down. She wants to show Robert the verses she underlined from last night's reading. She wants to know what the word "offspring" means. He explains the definition and she replies, "Oh, like Samuel, Nathanael, Hannah and Joshua are your offspring?" "As well as you," he corrects her. And once again a teachable moment presents itself and he is able to share how God brings children into families; much like he brings us into his spiritual family. Quite right. Quite right.<br /><br />Shoppers flutter in and out of the shops nearby even at this predawn hour. A small girl with a bag from the video game store next door clutches her purchases with one hand and her mother's arm with the other. I notice another woman exit the same store, attempting to balance two huge bags and locate her car keys in the purse hanging precariously from the crook of her arm. "GameStop must be having a big sale," I interject into the silence. "Huh?" they both reply and I realize why Robert does this activity one on one - less interruptions. I apologize for breaking their concentration and go back to clicking away at the keyboard.<br /><br />I reflect on the gifts we exchanged this year. My new phone served as anniversary, Christmas, Valentine's Day, and any other holiday that comes demanding a token of love in the distant future. Robert: some new books and an audio series by <a href="http://www.donkistler.org/">Dr Kistler</a>. Each of the children received a new book and a toiletry kit. The boys' with cologne and deodorant. The girls' with perfume and lotion. In addition, Kristina received an English version of the Bible bound in soft sea foam green leather with silver gilded pages peeking out from a cover embossed with an ivy motif. Rather humble gifts in comparison to the ones being hauled out of the video game store next door, but well received and loved all the same. <br /><br />There was no Christmas tree this year. Ours was packed away somewhere in the sea of tan corrugated boxes. In the last six months, we have learned a valuable lesson. We have learned the difference between what we want and what we need; what we can live without and what we can't live without. With that in mind, our approach to Christmas was different. We took what we had been blessed with and decided to bless others. Three adopting families received our meager Christmas money his year. What a blessing to share what we had with others. We know it will hardly make a dent in the huge sum that adoption demands, but we learned once how every little bit adds up. <br /><br />Christmas day was spent playing with old friends from the neighborhood, reading our new books, cooking Christmas dinner, and being together. We have been blessed with family: biological family, adopted family, and spiritual family. These are the things we can not live without.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj81EeV8GgoJcFIHUhCD-1oUzDdlEuAft3Qz_muI0g0VyXFHEmu9vqKlPDjwb6Xr4K_E4GtdYgSTPTM7lDNPTH8BXIQMsRyCwN2ENKFaVX4hDnqRQQrRiNR7txXBB0w-eNfj-mAyg/s1600-h/IMG_2724.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj81EeV8GgoJcFIHUhCD-1oUzDdlEuAft3Qz_muI0g0VyXFHEmu9vqKlPDjwb6Xr4K_E4GtdYgSTPTM7lDNPTH8BXIQMsRyCwN2ENKFaVX4hDnqRQQrRiNR7txXBB0w-eNfj-mAyg/s320/IMG_2724.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284449629308648162" /></a><br /><center><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/395/B07769E9F6C95F70DB5DA000EA0B52AD.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/></a><br /></center>Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11942021817609798741noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28464371.post-38003951710979141442008-12-24T21:24:00.006-05:002008-12-27T15:11:20.219-05:00Season's Blessings<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOCa6eGKeBR8ACwpobb-mAocwabEtRjfBPlVAVNeckSEAFROpzbETVKNxrDgty92ZD_9S9S-ikaiwO-aDC8rfScWSFpR2GFiDQanYg8Cps655KEZ65v6fshBnZYTIJetfuAUf3dw/s1600-h/Manger.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOCa6eGKeBR8ACwpobb-mAocwabEtRjfBPlVAVNeckSEAFROpzbETVKNxrDgty92ZD_9S9S-ikaiwO-aDC8rfScWSFpR2GFiDQanYg8Cps655KEZ65v6fshBnZYTIJetfuAUf3dw/s320/Manger.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284083600823587570" /></a><br />Over Christmas Eve breakfast, one of our pastors shared with Robert that a family from another church was seeking to bless someone this season. And with that Dottie appeared at our door with two small boys in tow. A complete stranger, she came bearing lunch from Chick-Fil-A, a freshly baked coffee cake for Christmas morning, and a Christmas card concealing a gift certificate from HoneyBaked Hams and gift cards. She wanted to share the blessings of the season. She wanted to show her boys what Christmas was really about. We introduced the children and her face registered a small moment of shock when we explained that this would be Kristina's second Christmas with us. "Adopted? How strange! God has been speaking to my heart about adoption." And with that she sat and spoke of her family and we shared our passion for adoption. We placed a copy of our adoption DVD in her hands and asked her to stay in touch. Walking her to the door, we expressed our gratitude over how God had blessed us through her. I could see the tears welling at the back of Robert's eyes as they passed through the door. Isn't it amazing? Isn't it amazing how God is providing us with opportunities to share His love for orphans and orphan ministry? We saw the working of God in this exchange of strangers united through the kinship of Christ. Praise God for his providence and provision!<br /><br />At candlelight services this evening, Pastor Frank shared that the miracle of the season wasn't just that God's Son had been born into the world, but that He had been born into our hearts. Indeed He has. Indeed He has.<br /><center><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/395/B07769E9F6C95F70DB5DA000EA0B52AD.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/></a><br /></center>Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11942021817609798741noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28464371.post-91417301296723940032008-12-18T21:27:00.006-05:002008-12-18T22:47:41.934-05:00Can't Buy Me LoveThe traditional first anniversary gift is paper. Five years is wood. Ten is tin. Fifteen? Fifteen is my year. Fifteen is crystal. Does liquid crystal display count? <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM3jypsye-UFXoksFDzN_ivwqd41iPovPya5IA_RcTnmJGyIIVLycdfmdmIuZ9gEIEUdL1lGLtfBDFTuebex9SWRPs4FW343YDPJiywN_NVPMame9A7QGtjmfSAWRbgu2JqD5SmA/s1600-h/g1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 171px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM3jypsye-UFXoksFDzN_ivwqd41iPovPya5IA_RcTnmJGyIIVLycdfmdmIuZ9gEIEUdL1lGLtfBDFTuebex9SWRPs4FW343YDPJiywN_NVPMame9A7QGtjmfSAWRbgu2JqD5SmA/s320/g1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281334658267746802" /></a><br /><br />I usually discourage Robert from buying me gifts, but how can I scold him this time? Be still my beating heart! My honey knows what makes my heart go pitter-pat. I'm not the candy and flowers type. Technology - now that's the gift that says "I love you".<br /><br />Fifteen years! Where does the time go? I honestly don't know how two kids ended up with five kids of their own. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheXxsrRYYR9LfDZ2Lk2Z5rRw_BJXeDNJ7LnOlzAL4-5IrykcMCQYOMZEp0fClL8x9ARGUlacwgJX1PrqF4A2yQ5F-7t7Y5tk5GlCCv8o_Nu1zNJUVqf9SrmOc_AIWKG_iaGXEFrw/s1600-h/100_0873.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheXxsrRYYR9LfDZ2Lk2Z5rRw_BJXeDNJ7LnOlzAL4-5IrykcMCQYOMZEp0fClL8x9ARGUlacwgJX1PrqF4A2yQ5F-7t7Y5tk5GlCCv8o_Nu1zNJUVqf9SrmOc_AIWKG_iaGXEFrw/s320/100_0873.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281339098232718002" /></a><br /><center><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/382/211B561281B681E9EC2C038C49D748FB.png" /></a></center>Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11942021817609798741noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28464371.post-82525833740820824512008-12-17T22:05:00.002-05:002008-12-27T15:15:11.581-05:00Thanksgiving Recap<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuYM-QNLb_g7wVnR0ES9VXhwrmohRXRBxz-0vyXTHBifTYT9xqt_vn9kMNx8ClD4had1IwtEo8N0vGJ9NvnlcgVExD5BOcQ9j-5T9cweBfBJOJJdnkZLmj22Ahn8id_K6cZxfstg/s1600-h/thanksgiving.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280974561121641410" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 305px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuYM-QNLb_g7wVnR0ES9VXhwrmohRXRBxz-0vyXTHBifTYT9xqt_vn9kMNx8ClD4had1IwtEo8N0vGJ9NvnlcgVExD5BOcQ9j-5T9cweBfBJOJJdnkZLmj22Ahn8id_K6cZxfstg/s320/thanksgiving.jpg" border="0" /></a>I know, I know. This is a little late, but I thought I would share it anyway. Cut me a little slack; I'm just getting back on the writing wagon!<br /><br />We headed back to Orlando for Thanksgiving this year. God hasn't seen fit to send buyers for our home, so we have a Florida vacation home whether we like it or not. We hadn't seen our little house since July and we were anxious to check on things. That, and we wanted to sit on real furniture and sleep in a real bed. We put our things in storage before coming to Mississippi and planned on moving everything once the house sold. Well, the house hasn't sold, so our current Mississippi furnishings consist of 6 air mattresses and a television perched on a moving box that holds my grandmother's china. Yeah, the furniture was a real pull to go back to Orlando!<br /><br />It was a blissful week being back in familiar surroundings and with old friends. We worked in the yard. The kids played with their old friends and hung out with their youth group. The girls went to a sleepover with the neighborhood girls. We worshipped with our church family. My college girls were home and came over to play games and watch movies. Just to be together again! It was pretty much the perfect holiday.<br /><br />We were invited to attend a football playoff game at a school I taught at several years ago. I was excited to take Kristina and let her meet the students and parents who had invested in bringing her here. We were greeted with squeals and hugs throughout the night. Kristina was able to meet her <a href="http://ukraineorphans.blogspot.com/2006/05/kristinas-angels-when-my-freshmen.html">"angels"</a> and <a href="http://kristinasstory.blogspot.com/2007/02/happy-birthday-to-who.html">Stephanie</a> (whom Kristina matches in ability to talk a mile a minute!). I think what surprised me the most was the number of people who greeted us with, "When are you going to post on the blog again???" I was surprised that we were still being followed and grateful for the encouragement to get back to writing.<br /><br />The big light bulb moment of the week came when Robert and I discussed moving back. We reflected on how many things we had been missing and decided if the house hadn't sold by the end of the school year, we would come "home". After all, we can't continue to pay rent and a mortgage.<br /><br />The next day, we were browsing our favorite used book store when our realtor called Robert's cell. One of the kids tracked me to the classics section and informed me that Dad needed to talk to me <strong>NOW</strong>. I found Robert sitting on a step ladder in the theology section deciding between two tape albums. Reading his mind, I advised him, "Get both". "Bev called. There's a couple coming back to look at the house again this morning. They're deciding on buying it today," he informed me with raised eyebrows. Immediately I was reeling. I felt like someone had hit me in the stomach. I leaned on the book shelf for support and asked, "WHY?! Why now? I've guarded my heart for months. I've accepted the way things are in Mississippi and tried to find the positive in every obstacle. Now when we let ourselves consider coming back, He's going to sell the house???" "Nothing in stone. We'll have to wait and see," he replied.<br /><br />Well, as of today, the house hasn't sold. The truth is, if I had really guarded my heart and trusted God, I wouldn't have reacted that way to a change in what I believed to be our new plan. I think God was reminding me to be content where I am and not plan too much. Now I have a real peace about staying in Mississippi <em><strong>and</strong></em> about moving back to Florida; a peace I didn't have before.<br /><br />The week went by much too quickly and before we knew it, it was time to wind our way back to the Pine Belt. But you're getting your wish, Ulysses! We're coming back for the entire Christmas break! Guard your phone, old friend . . .</div><br /><center><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/395/B07769E9F6C95F70DB5DA000EA0B52AD.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/></a><br /></center>Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11942021817609798741noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28464371.post-55030697360778076192008-12-14T21:45:00.006-05:002008-12-27T15:15:32.698-05:00Insert Video HereWhile we haven't found a church to call "home" yet, the children have been attending youth group at a local Baptist church on Wednesday evenings. A few weeks ago, a portion of the evening youth service was carved out to practice for the annual Christmas concert. This year's theme was Christmas Around the World. The music director planned to have the children sing "Silent Night" in several languages as part of the program. When she found out Kristina was fluent in Russian, she scooped our girl up and groomed her for a duet with the son of a missionary family who had just returned from the mission field in Moscow.<br /><br />I arrived early enough to get a spot on the front row of the balcony. I parked myself in the middle of a row of preschoolers' parent already checking the zoom on their camcorders. They found their little ones in the sea of black patent leather shoes that lined the front row of the choir and waved enthusiastically until they caught the attention of their stars. I got my camera ready too so I could share this moment with all of you. <br /><br />The moment arrived and I clicked the 'record' button on the video camera. The director cued Kristina and her partner at the end of the first chorus. The boy stepped down to the mic . . . but Kristina didn't! She froze, unsure that the director was signaling her, and then couldn't move. I could see the pink flush fall over her face as she looked up at me and shrugged her shoulders with the slightest movement. Afterwards, she ran up to me and said, "Oops! Mama, I didn't know i was supposed to go THEN!" We laughed and reassured her that it was okay. Oh, well! I'm sure it would have been a real video moment!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Q10w1jB7u3NdFiQGIBKhqDJpIUnoxGD8-mFvLNjXklGjimPn3J5wfzbv5Bm6nxLNlEVGZ5QbaPVwZL14IcGZXe0g8HnKzMV3dNcXrrDVbYQRM0LUs0sD4vZQsg4A3ATb5Pn7jw/s1600-h/PC140838.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Q10w1jB7u3NdFiQGIBKhqDJpIUnoxGD8-mFvLNjXklGjimPn3J5wfzbv5Bm6nxLNlEVGZ5QbaPVwZL14IcGZXe0g8HnKzMV3dNcXrrDVbYQRM0LUs0sD4vZQsg4A3ATb5Pn7jw/s320/PC140838.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279886483988487506" /></a><br /><center><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/395/B07769E9F6C95F70DB5DA000EA0B52AD.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/></a><br /></center>Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11942021817609798741noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28464371.post-85660461228759843872008-12-11T18:14:00.009-05:002008-12-27T15:15:49.009-05:00Snow Day!<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhboOR-de7JsuiMuot0I0W2xmDFwpo_wBEibX8oL7RHSc1PFOEQryJgtoEjTV-z2hf1UbtNQD3GimX_U_QrTyaZ7H02mUJbGU2iA8yybAR8qM11hcPu-kE-KWuBsEX2FS5-V33DXg/s1600-h/PC110827.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278675925304357874" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhboOR-de7JsuiMuot0I0W2xmDFwpo_wBEibX8oL7RHSc1PFOEQryJgtoEjTV-z2hf1UbtNQD3GimX_U_QrTyaZ7H02mUJbGU2iA8yybAR8qM11hcPu-kE-KWuBsEX2FS5-V33DXg/s320/PC110827.JPG" border="0" /></a> When the forecast called for snow on Thursday, all the English teachers in my wing started praying for wintry manna from heaven. Snow=no school. </div><br /><br /><div>I awoke at 5am and peeked out the window. Rain was falling but no snow. I hopped in the shower and started my morning routine, grieving the loss of a day off to catch up on grading papers and sleep late. I clicked on the television to see the local forecast still predicting snow, a once a year phenomenon in these parts. A quick return to the window was rewarded with puffs of white beginning to dust the car top. Minutes later, the text messages from my girls in the English Dept. confirmed that ours prayers had been answered: no school!</div><br /><br /><div>I made the mistake of waking Robert to tell him about the snow and he immediately had the children up and on the front porch. Of course Kristina was unimpressed. After all, snow is nothing new to her. She groaned and rolled over unwilling to budge from her snugly blanket cocoon. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Obviously snow is even more impressive when you're traveling 40 mph, so Robert decided we needed to drive through town to get the full effect. Everyone threw on warm layers. The directions were simple: shoes on, everybody in the car ASAP. Now, I blame Robert who scooped the first handful off the hood of the car and hurled the frozen sphere at Nathanael's unsuspecting head. Before I knew it, I had six screaming kids (yes, I'm counting Robert) running across the front yard, pelting each other with snowballs at 6am. Our poor neighbors. I hid in the warmth and security of the car until they gave up because of numb hands and red faces.</div><br /><div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNGBeU3wigItz03_oEF7rOj5hpevCic9BDZBT5HGR9mjreT7OHMwU-TZrn7LUVudHa3CvRc1fdquWXYAAVTVSKWNP1-XxofBcAjVHSxBqEAMEGaHykZTTcyQrNhUtf6GRH3CRN9Q/s1600-h/PC110828.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278687752229433266" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNGBeU3wigItz03_oEF7rOj5hpevCic9BDZBT5HGR9mjreT7OHMwU-TZrn7LUVudHa3CvRc1fdquWXYAAVTVSKWNP1-XxofBcAjVHSxBqEAMEGaHykZTTcyQrNhUtf6GRH3CRN9Q/s320/PC110828.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I headed for a nearby gas station to fill up. The directions were simple: everybody stay in the car while I pump the gas. But do they listen? Noooooo. They ran in circles around the car, climbing on the bumper to get an aerial advantage and diving behind the pumps to avoid incoming projectiles. She may not have been impressed by the snow, but Kristina has an arm built for throwing snowballs! I declared myself Switzerland, neutral, and threatened anyone who raised a glob of snow in my direction. To my horror, I noticed patrons and staff gathered by the windows at a diner across the way pointing and laughing at the spectacle that my family was causing. <br /><br />"Hey! Let's have breakfast!" Robert decided. I smoothed the ice of a snowball gone astray from my hair and tried to regain some dignity as I walked into the diner. We slid into red and white vinyl booths under the judgemental stares from photos of Elvis and James Dean and settled on a meal of warm, fluffy pancakes.</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjMfw1RUL97rLBp7jprB6bZBHuKTALMlfaSlNt6kS4hoEE5tsl0FZNNVsVzTP8zUzIUxgrYKThdMzOJnw-nfxvGNwk6Bv-cwB9txauYRPJpFnC3Y_xWDnHQ1_AMiDW_Rh3YtfKhQ/s1600-h/PC110829.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjMfw1RUL97rLBp7jprB6bZBHuKTALMlfaSlNt6kS4hoEE5tsl0FZNNVsVzTP8zUzIUxgrYKThdMzOJnw-nfxvGNwk6Bv-cwB9txauYRPJpFnC3Y_xWDnHQ1_AMiDW_Rh3YtfKhQ/s320/PC110829.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278688791376464770" /></a><br /><br />Once home, the kids returned to the front yard to team up with neighborhood kids in a full snow battle. I wish I could say I spent the rest of the day knocking out all the papers that accumulate on my desk, but I enjoyed my snow day and got absolutely nothing accomplished!<br> <center><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/395/B07769E9F6C95F70DB5DA000EA0B52AD.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/></a><br /></center>Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11942021817609798741noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28464371.post-86133354643357784432008-12-07T13:00:00.001-05:002008-12-27T15:16:02.866-05:00Gloria in Excelsis Deo<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXn8tIalN8z-zy-EQ94AM4iZUIK0hKjUDTMkzGmBQlrBJRLHjCHHnyaMvBBHjXr5-SnAOmadQ-GaTvSQ3o4cXKdFaTvLRUbqF3TUcD31ByVVOj90Llp97PVFMZwpyIR9h8EGRW6A/s1600-h/star-earth.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277145354885986594" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 250px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 274px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXn8tIalN8z-zy-EQ94AM4iZUIK0hKjUDTMkzGmBQlrBJRLHjCHHnyaMvBBHjXr5-SnAOmadQ-GaTvSQ3o4cXKdFaTvLRUbqF3TUcD31ByVVOj90Llp97PVFMZwpyIR9h8EGRW6A/s320/star-earth.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />In the middle of singing the above mentioned song in service this morning, I felt a tug on my sleeve. Without taking my eyes from the words on the screen, I leaned down to see what the child sitting to my left wanted. "I'm nervous," Kristina whispered. "Of what?" I whispered back, "The words are right there on the screen." She rolled her eyes at my attempt at humor and went back to singing.<br /><br />We were invited to worship at Petal Harvey Baptist Church and speak with one of the Sunday School classes about orphan ministry. Kristina would come with us to the presentation and she was afraid she wouldn't know what to say. Quite frankly, so was I. After worship, we made our way to the upstairs classroom. Robert spoke briefly about what the Bible says concerning adoption and then I shared our personal journey with a room of about 30 young married couples. We played <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=reTJ_28J6K0">the video</a> we made of my first trip to Ukraine. Its always difficult to watch the video. You would think it would be easier after seeing it countless times, but it never gets easier because I know the need now is even greater than it was then. I tried very hard to stay composed, but when I saw Kristina tear up I felt my own emotions welling up.<br /><br />It is interesting to see her come to the point where she is able to reflect upon where she has been and where she is now. Some orphans embrace their bleak future and begin self destructive behaviors as at a very early age. We witnessed children who were already prostituting themselves, numb to the hope that there could be any other way for them to be loved and needed. Other orphans, like Kristina, refused to see things for what they truly were. For many months, we battled "the lie". The lie that someone would come for her eventually, that somehow she wouldn't be one of the girls who would sleep on the street at the mercy of others. We understand that her clinging to "the lie" was a defense mechanism. Its what kept her from crossing over into the abyss of hopelessness.<br /><br />Although she was terribly nervous and had moments of stage fright, she was able to share a little bit of what life was like in Ukraine. And like me, afterwards she thought of a million other things she wanted to say to the group. Because she was in the room, Robert and I specifically didn't share the horrors of her personal story and some the details of much of what these children face. We trust that what we were clumsily allowed to share will plant a seed about adoption in the hearts of others.<br /><br />For months we've been trying to figure out why God has brought us to Mississippi and why we have borne one difficulty after the next in coming here. But this morning, we were reminded that perhaps God's plan has yet to be revealed. If just one family who heard our story becomes involved in orphan ministry or adoption, would the sacrifice not have been well worth it? God showed us today that he indeed has a work for us to do. Pray that He would open more doors that we might speak with other groups and churches to share the message about adoption. This is what Kristina was brought here for: Gloria in Excelsis Deo - Glory to God in the Highest.<br /><br /><center><em>"And suddenly there appeared with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying,<br />Glory to God in the highest,<br />And on earth peace among men with whom He is pleased.<br /><br />When the angels had gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds began saying to one another, "Let us go straight to Bethlehem then, and see this thing that has happened which the Lord has made known to us."<br /><strong>-Luke 2:13-15</strong></em></center><br /><center><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/395/B07769E9F6C95F70DB5DA000EA0B52AD.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/></a><br /></center>Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11942021817609798741noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28464371.post-19991329541422867352008-10-25T22:34:00.003-04:002008-12-12T22:36:23.591-05:00The Journey HomeIt's hard to believe we were in Ukraine a year ago navigating the uncertain adoption process. Our thanks to all those who made this journey possible.<br /><br /><center><OBJECT class=BLOG_video_class id=BLOG_video-2de7471934b9513 height=266 width=320 contentId="2de7471934b9513"></OBJECT></center>Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11942021817609798741noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28464371.post-47268046632687984952008-10-19T19:24:00.009-04:002008-12-12T22:47:14.674-05:00Is it Possible to Start this Post Without Apologizing?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4MhOUNSKuVU5JPua5RnZGSIo2KhVLD-4P1YmPAlFtVHX7_pZz7grNf54pRx_Nj96Hgak-paqTVbpeIeO772mDutBP6QVM6J6BVal3ZBO-aBGZTnwccAuZoZxdB5zKuPCNmYggYg/s1600-h/IMG_2446.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4MhOUNSKuVU5JPua5RnZGSIo2KhVLD-4P1YmPAlFtVHX7_pZz7grNf54pRx_Nj96Hgak-paqTVbpeIeO772mDutBP6QVM6J6BVal3ZBO-aBGZTnwccAuZoZxdB5zKuPCNmYggYg/s400/IMG_2446.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259037081891227938" /></a>
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<br />Maybe if I just jump to updating everyone, you'll be distracted enough to forgive my lapse in blog postings. I don't really know where to start and that makes things that much harder. Our last few posts informed you that our move to Mississippi has been a difficult transition. Difficult is a mild word. We are still adjusting. I kept hoping that at some point God would clue me in to the reason behind all the difficulties, I would make the spiritual connection, and be that much better for the experience. However, He obviously is still working on me. So I keep my head down and push through, knowing that He walks with us and all these things have come to pass for His glory, in His time.
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<br />Let me focus on the good things. There <EM>have</EM> been good things and that is worth noting. My job is phenomenal. I love, love, love my students and am surrounded by the best collegues. The school system that the kids are in is unparalleled. Spending time together has helped us weather the uncertainties of this journey. All seven of us are adjusting and we have each other to make it a bit more pleasant.
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<br />We have thouroughly enjoyed rediscovering Mississippi and our beautiful surroundings. We've been canoeing and kayaking down the Okatoma River. We took this trip right before we moved to Orlando. The twins were 5 and I had to keep telling them to sit still for fear of them flipping us over. Josh was so small, he was swallowed by his orange lifevest. This time, no one wanted to ride in the canoes with mom and dad. Everyone wanted their own kayak to stear down the river. Kristina caught on in a flash and we had to repeatedly shout to her to slow down and wait for us.
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<br />Keep your eye on Samuel at the back of the canoe in this clip. We laugh until we cry everytime we watch it.
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<br />We've gotten in the habit of making day trips to fun nearby places. We've visited Natchez to view antebellum houses and climb <a href="http://www.nps.gov/history/NR/travel/mounds/eme.htm">ancient indian ceremonial mounds</a>.
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<br /><div style="width:640px; text-align: center;"><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w68.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w68.photobucket.com/albums/i33/lesliemlandrum/d02f54a4.pbw" height="480" width="640"><a href="http://photobucket.com/slideshows" target="_blank"><img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" ></a><a href="http://s68.photobucket.com/albums/i33/lesliemlandrum/?action=view¤t=d02f54a4.pbw" target="_blank"><img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" ></a></div>
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<br />Two weeks ago, we made our way to Vicksburg for the day. We loved the rolling landscape. The kids spent the day running up and down valleys that had once served as battlegrounds during the Civil War.
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<br />Last weekend, we drove into New Orleans to shop the French Market and stroll along the river. We wandered the Quarter browsing shops and visiting historic St. Louis Cathedral, dined at our favorite resturant Cafe Masperos, and grabbed a dessert of powdered benigets at Cafe De Monde.
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<br />We stuck close to home this weekend. Saturday was Kristina's 13th birthday. It is the first time she can remember celebrating her birthday on her actual birthday. Until the adoption, she had believed her birthday was in April. A big hug and kiss goes out to missionaries <a href="http://www.harvestinternational.org/lelasteel.html">Babushka Lela</a> and <a href="http://www.shepherdspurse.org/overseas_michelle_maly">Michelle</a> who never failed to acknowledge our daughter's special day while she was in the orphanage. We can't begin to thank these two women for the tireless work they do day in and day out to minister to orphans in Kristina's internot.
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<br />We spent a simple day together, letting Kristina choose a resturant for dinner. We presented her with an MP3 player, something she's been asking for since the day she arrived. Maw Maw and Paw Paw showed up with gifts in hand and a cake made by special request (pink cake with white icing and yellow flowers). She glowed the whole day. The blessings of family.
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<br /><center><em>A father of the fatherless, a defender of widows,
<br />Is God in His holy habitation.
<br />God sets the solitary in families;
<br />He brings out those who are bound into prosperity.
<br /><strong>-Psalm 68:5-6</strong></em></center>Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11942021817609798741noreply@blogger.com9