Silk Road To Our Home

A Letter to our Son

2008-08-21T05:10:00.000-07:00

Dearest Son,

I am sorry we will not be there when you wake. This is the way it must be for a time, please understand. Thank you for laughing and smiling with us, even though we spent only a brief time together. Please dont let our tears today let you think that you have been anything but wonderful.

You will find in your crib a teddy bear from your brother and sister and a blanket with a red stitched heart from us.

While we are gone, please be strong, take heart, and know that our absence is only temporary. We will return soon and take you home.

You are an orphan no more.

Love,

Mommy and Daddy

Day Four: Our time with him is almost up

2008-08-20T16:34:00.000-07:00

"There is surely a future hope for you, and your hope will not be cut off” Proverbs 23:18

We are starting to feel the weight of separation looming around the corner. Tomorrow is our last day with him on this trip. How do you learn to love someone and then walk away unchanged? You don’t.

But today was good. He slept in our arms after a few minutes of introspection and sticking out his tongue. I understood, this always leaves me exhausted too. We gave him back to the ladies and drove silently back to Bishkek.

Day Three: We have settled into a routine, I believe.

2008-08-19T20:19:00.000-07:00

This morning we had breakfast as usual at our Hotel. I did get a bit braver and had a bit more of the local fan fare, but I still have not ventured into the fresh vegetables. I would really like to try the juice here, but we believe that they mix it with tap water, and there is the rub.

After breakfast we had a nice meeting with our in country coordinator. She talked about the delays but remained optimistic that the government realizes the importance of getting these kids out of the orphanage and into homes. It struck me as we talked with her that she was the right person for this job: she seemed infinitely patient, deeply compassionate, and incredibly self aware. We are blessed to have such a person working as an intermediary between cultures.

Our time with our son was great. Over the course of the first two visits, we were becoming concerned about some of his mannerisms, but today, after spending more time with him, we saw that it was likely due to his being exhausted and not completely used to all of the attention we wanted to lavish on him. While I know this is different for each family, we have decided that regardless of what challenges our adopting him would bring, that God had ordained us to be here at this time, with him, and to seek his return to our home. Once we resolved to look at him from this perspective, it made our worry about him change to hope. Hope that we could handle any problems he may have, hope that he would be healthy. Hope that our abilities can withstand God’s plan. “But as for me, I will always have hope; I will praise you more and more” Psalm 71:14. Perhaps God just wanted to make sure the record (and our resolve) was set straight before we could go any further. At any rate, we feel comforted in the fact that he does appear healthy and well.

On our return trip we had our driver drop us off downtown. From there we enjoyed a nice meal and walk back to our room. As I read from a tourist book, the juxtaposition of Soviet era with
Kyrgyz culture is really quite interesting, and seems to be somehow interconnected by Western influences. All that said, we enjoyed the Soviet memorials and Kyrgyz Government buildings with equal satisfaction.

Now I suppose is as good a time as any to talk about the 2^nd most frightful part of our daily life here (the first being the drive to Tokmok). The Soviets have gained fame for many things: their vast empire, their matter of fact efficiency, their beautiful architecture and art, but elevator building is not on this list. Our Soviet-era hotel requires an elevator to get us to our floor (as stairs on not available). The enclosure has an opening about the size of a coffin door that you must quickly step through. Showing any doubt rooted in a feeble clinging to Western ideals of safety will be quickly crushed by the doors slamming shut without any comfort of an apologetic reopening. Once you have entered the area that is about the size of two phone booths fused together, you are rewarded by a symphony of squeaky frayed cables rubbing over worn pulleys that, by the feel of our movement, must long since given up being round. During the jerky ride of groaning and skipping you will not find comfort in a call box, inspection certificate, or even an escape hatch. In fact, the only comfort we have found is that, until today, we had not paid for our room, so our life was still of some value to the authorities who run this hotel.

If today goes as expected, we will die in the elevator… or we will spend more time with our son and maybe do a bit of sight seeing. If the later is the case, we will keep all posted.

Day two “all that paper work doesn’t seem to matter now”

2008-08-18T20:20:00.000-07:00

After a really nice night’s sleep we went to the breakfast provided by our hotel. There were heavy rolls of bread, cold cut slices of salami and bologna, cheese slices, and some thin crepes they called pancakes. There were of course some fresh salads as well, but we opted to let the locals savor those dishes.

A bit later we met our driver in the lobby and headed out for the expected harrowing hour drive. We were not disappointed.

Once at the orphanage, we got to peek in and see where the children slept. There were about 10 small wooden cribs, some along the outside wall and the remainder forming an island in the middle. Everything seemed to be in order, and the ladies attending the babies were all very busy about the business of taking care of children. One lady, likely in her late 20s with very dark hair but fair skin, was constantly taking cloths out to be dried after hand washing, gently laying the kids blankets out in the courtyard over the bushes to dry. Another woman held a baby on her hip as she talked lovingly to her as well as the other care givers in their work area. As we sat outside on the porch, we could hear the laughter coming out of the room, reflecting in that warm way that only an old wood building can do well. It is odd that just the sign of happiness among the ladies was so reassuring, but for me it was.

We were able to take our boy out of the crib and go out to the porch and spend about a bit less than an hour with him. He was more alert today and really interacted with us much more. Over the course of the last two days we have developed a few concerns over his health, but we are working through our adoption doctors in the states to help answer any questions we have. We are thankful to have taken the option of securing an a pediatric adoption specialist to bounce ideas off of. Above all, we feel he is meant to be ours and we have comfort knowing we are in the Lord’s will.

After our brief time with him we went to visit the orphanage director. A very serious Russian woman, she sat behind her desk and with a matter-of-fact efficiency dispatched all of our questions through our driver, who is also our interpreter. She told us a little bit about how our boy came into the orphanage and also mentioned that he had briefly run a fever a couple of days before our visit.

After the visit with our son at the orphanage we went to Burana tower, a tenth century structure just outside of Tokmok.

It was very interesting and quite a harrowing climb up the narrow staircase to the top. Once perched atop of the 100 ft, or so, tall structure you can see the mountains to one side and on the other side you can see a field of burial stones. It was a neat trip and worth the time. We especially enjoyed the hospitality of the two ladies at work in the small museum.

From there we had an uneventful trip back to the room. As we prepare for day 3 with our son, I am reminded of the words in Ephesians 4:11-13 where God reminds us that we are blessed with talents to prepare us for works that build us up in unity and knowledge, bringing maturity and the full measure of Christ. We pray for this in our efforts to bring or son home and raise him, and we pray that this is true for you, wherever you are.

Day one: "He is Precious"

2008-08-17T17:45:00.000-07:00

What can you write the first time you see your child? What can you say the first time you hold him? You can say, "oh he is beautiful" or "we are so happy to finally get to meet you" but that just doesn't even begin to capture how we felt.

Our travel from Bishkek to Tokmok was an adventure. It took maybe an hour. The countryside was awash in activity and people were always in the process of carrying things from one place to another in a transportation device not nearly big enough for the effort it required. We saw an old sedan with a roof rack that would make any Seattle driver jealous, and strapped to the top were huge pipes, chairs and scrap material that would have been a load for even a contractor making a run to the Home Depot.

One thing that was interesting was the colors. Usually smog and unpaved roads seem to wash out all of the features in a third world country, and leave it one dreary color. Not so with our drive. Cars hummed by a bright burnt orange, an old tractor might have a fresh coat of red paint, and window sills might portray an eye catching baby blue. If felt much like parts of the Caribbean.

The orphanage was on a quiet street well off the main. Our driver let us out and asked us to stay in the courtyard, close to where the photo above was taken. We waited for maybe ten minutes and then out he came carrying the baby we worked so hard and traveled so far to see.

We spent about two hours with him in the courtyard. He never made a sound, and for most of the time was quite sleepy. I am not sure what he thought of all the attention. Again, my words are not skilled enough to tell you even our thoughts.

Here is a beautiful young boy, who was born into some situation that did not allow for his parents to keep him. And even those with a head start lead tough lives in the country he lives. His would be so much tougher, with so little promise. And yet, for him, God seems to have other plans. He has brought us from our soft lives in our comfortable latte world to come and see him. To hopefully bring him home. God bought us with a price that was dear to him... his son. And frequently he used the word adoption to describe it. Being here, and seeing what adoption means for someone who has nothing and doesn't yet even know it, helps me to better understand what God offers us as members of His family. "For what makes you different from anyone else? What do you have that you did not receive? And if you did receive it, why do you boast as though you did not?" 1 Corinthians 4:17.

We praise God for him, he is perfect. And we are equally grateful full for the opportunity to meet him, and pray that soon we will bring him home.

We will continue to update all of you as we head out for day #2.

and three sunrises later...

2008-08-16T22:20:00.000-07:00

1 Tim 4:4-5 "Everything created by God is good, and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving, for it is made holy by the word of God and Prayer.

Well we have finally arrived!

Our flight out was a long day but fairly uneventful. We left our home at 0430 on Friday and arrived at Bishkek around 0500 on Sunday morning, three sunrises later.

On our segment from Chicago to London, as we were seated about two rows from the very back, in the middle, with people close-in on either side, and no room to cross your legs in front, a man from the airlines came up to us, called us by name, and said good news and bad news: you cannot sit together but you have been moved to the front of the airplane. Well the front was United's International Business class, which amounts to a mini throne with your own 15'' television and reclining bed. A lady seated next to me volunteered to move when she realized I might spend the whole 8 hour flight repeatedly converting my chair from a bed to a recliner while watching highlights of NASCAR and exclaiming "did you see that?! did you see that?!". So, my bride and I were able to sit together and be country come to town together!

As a final note for today, I have to sign off, because our driver called shortly after we returned from breakfast here at the Hotel Dostuk. Although we were not expecting it, he offered to take us today to the orphanage. So we are getting ready to go now! We will keep you posted on how meeting our son went...

dead men don't wear plaid (or go to Kyrgyzstan)

2008-08-16T00:23:00.000-07:00

Well it was almost over before it began.

Yesterday, in the thrash that can be expected on the day before departure, one of the items on my to-do list was to cut the grass. Last time I mowed I noted that the mower really needed the blades to be sharpened. Here is where the plot thickens (stick with me and I promise I will bring it full circle to Kyrgyzstan).

I removed the blade and placed it on a bucket. Then putting one foot on top of the blade for a brace, I used my long file with a handle. Using both hands, I put one on the handle, and one on the tip of the file, allowing me to bear down with full force on the blade and eventually get it nice and sharp. On one of my last passes on the blade, my hand slipped and the full force of my body landed wrist first on the now nice and sharp edge of the lawn mower blade slicing my wrist in a suicidal manner perfectly perpendicular to the length of my arm ala Tim Taylor.

Fortunately, my lovely bride and her mom were not far away and before I lost too much blood we were able to apply pressure with a rag and some duct tape. They elected to call 911 not knowing how bad the cut was. Well, luckily we erred on the side of caution and the medics said a self led trip to the emergency room would be sufficient. I was glued closed and put back into business in no time. God is good.

I now have what looks like a Wonder Woman bracelet on my right arm and I am holding my pants up with my left because the hospital staff recommended that based on my wound I should not have shoe laces or a belt. :)

Trip is still on. Your prayers are felt... and needed. We will provide more details soon.

travel day minus one

2008-08-14T00:01:00.000-07:00

For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of Adoption. And by him we cry, "Abba, Father." Romans 8:15

This story is like the ending to the first chapter of a book not finished. We have already cried over disappointments, fought over disagreements, and prayed over fears. And now, "these three things remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love" (1 Corinthians 13:13).

Our Family is pursuing an international adoption through the country of Kyrgyzstan. As I type this, our son is likely alone in a crib at an orphanage in Tokmok, receiving what I have heard is loving care that is spread far too thin. We will travel this week to meet him, and his caregivers, and to formally request an adoption with the Kyrgyz government. If all goes to plan, we will return in 5-6 days alone. In 6-8 weeks we will then reunite with our son and after a stay of about two weeks, bring him home.

This is a walk of faith for our family that has already been blessed. We have two children who are now nearly 8 and 3. We found we had a desire to expand our family to share the abundance of blessings the Lord has given us, but eventually felt led to seek this expansion as an outreach to another. And so, for the last two years we have fought the red tape of international adoption, a story many of you are familiar with.

Our journey will have us travel from the States through London and on to Bishkek. From there we will make 2-3 trips to the orphanage in Tokmok. We invite you to follow us along on our journeys, ask you to pray for us for success, and grow with us in our walk of faith.