Category: Current Adoption

Why Worry, When You Can Pay?

Doesn’t it go something like that? The song?

Oh, no, it was “pray.”

But I do mean “pay.”

Because there is precious little we can’t pay for, isn’t there? Sure, I don’t mean that everyone can run out willy-nilly and buy anything that strikes their fancy––there are cars that you will never own, boats that will never approach the likes of your budget––but, really: Aren’t most of the people in the socio-economic circles you inhabit able to pay for a whole ream of stuff way beyond necessities?

I’m not rich by my own country’s standards, but I totally know that there aren’t a whole lot of other people that I interact with here in western China who are saving up for a trip to Europe like I just took with my wife. (Though China does have, of course, its wealthy, and wildly wealthy, too.)

You want to go to Europe? (Or somewhere else if Europe’s home?) Chances are you could make that happen. It might take some years of saving; it might mean cutting out cable or buying a junkier car; but a splurge like that is probably not out of reach for a whole lot of Westerners if it’s something they really want.

Or, you could make different choices: keep that cable; buy the new Corvette with CarPlay; go to Disneyland. Whatever. Maybe you can afford all of the above and more. My point, I think, is that pretty much all of us, even though it’s oh-so-easy to solely notice only those above us on the money ladder, have choices.

What about dropping $30 grand on an international adoption? That’s a choice, too. A large one. $30K is such a large amount to so many of us that it becomes an obstacle that keeps many people who would otherwise consider adopting from ever signing up.

We only ever considered the money once: the first time.

And it was an obstacle: How on earth are we going to pay for this?

But the second time, it was completely God’s idea, and so we knew he would have to provide the funds.

Here’s exactly what I said at the time, in quote form and lifted from my upcomingandsoeasytoalwaysquotehereinthisblog book:

“OK, God. This second adoption was your idea. With all due respect, I would like to go on record as reiterating that it was not mine. I am sending you the bill.”

I meant that.

He still surprised us. 

All we were able to raise totaled $8 thousand. Then someone who didn’t know us from Adam gave us $22 thousand. We never found out who.

And now—slap of the palm to the forehead—here we go again, adopting for the third time. [A development that came on the scene, mind you, after our Eurotrip had been planned and largely paid for; otherwise we’d never have gone. For choosing to adopt surely means choosing not to do other things. But by that point it was too late to cancel anything, and we like to believe God did that on purpose for us and let us enjoy that special anniversary together.]

About the same time we were announcing this third adoption to our weekly fellowship, our inaugural round of adoption expenses (home study, background checks, etc.) came due. All told, something in the low $3K’s. One week later, a teenager in our fellowship who has an hourly-rate part-time job walked up to us and handed us an envelope. It was thick enough to feel the bills inside. She said she wanted to participate. God wanted her to give to our adoption. Wow.

Then the woman sitting next to me in the meeting, someone I’d met once, handed me another envelope. This one was ridiculously thick.

What’s this?

“For the adoption.”

I had to ask what her name was again so I could thank her.

Finally, once we were home, neighbors handed us money: “Here, someone wanted to contribute to the adoption anonymously.”

Those gifts totaled in the mid-$3K’s. God one step ahead.

So again I ask you: Why worry, when you can pay? 

Cause when He’s footing the bill, you can pay. You can pay for whatever he says. And often we can pay for a whole lot more. Sometimes it seems we can only pay for “less,” but then he turns our hearts towards those who truly have less, or…he brings the Body around, and everything gets all paid for after all.

Thanks, God.

We know you brought this boy to us, and we know that his adoption is not any kind of burden that falls on our shoulders. 

We are not worried.

He Has a Name!

“For pity’s sake, let’s stay away from ‘E’ and ‘H’ names…” I said to my wife.

All of our kids’ names start with E or H.

We didn’t do it on purpose.

Especially with the names that came latest, Eden and Hope, it was total happenstance.

We’d always rather been against “doing a pattern.”

So I wasn’t about to force things with our new son, though “Ephraim” topped Tammy’s list of favorites for quite awhile.

Ephraim, you’ll recall, was one of Joseph’s two sons, and became, like his older brother Manasseh, one of the twelve tribes of Israel. He was, as the younger brother, placed on the left when Joseph presented his sons to be blessed by their grandfather, Jacob. Jacob, however, crossed his right and left hands and gave the greater blessing to Ephraim. “Ephraim” carries the meanings of “fruitful,” “two-fold increase,” “I am twice fruitful,” etc.

But I personally didn’t really care for the name for our son.

We kept thinking.

“What about Everett?” I said one day, perched on the same couch I sit on now, writing this post.

Odd, since “E” names were the opposite of what I’d been trying to think of.

“Everett” just came out.

“Hmm!…” Tammy liked it.

We put it on the list.

And looked it up, finding that it carries the meanings of “strong” and “brave” and also shares common origins with the name “Everest” (though both are more common as last names.) The tie-in to Mt. Everest is cool, as our city is one of the jumping-off points for people headed to Lhasa, and then on to Everest. (I’ve got my own dreams for visiting Base Camp next year, in fact.)

After mulling “Everett” over for a few days, we took a family Sunday drive to the mountains just south of us. We’ve gone there before, but never on a day as clear as this one. As soon as we got on the expressway headed south, we saw snowcaps.

And Tammy said: “That’s it! His name’s Everett.” 

Not that we were seeing Mt. Everest, far from it. But the mountains were truly inspiring seen so suddenly, when most of the time pollution and buildings prevent us from seeing them at all.

Everett

Everett. We all agreed it was perfect.

But that’s not the goose bump part.

On this blog, I’ve referred several times to the book I’ve been writing for the past couple of years, an adoption memoir. Lily’s story. But I’ve never revealed the title.

Until now. 

I find I’m sort of stuck, and have to reveal it now if I’m to tell the rest of this Everett story. So…in a sort of back-door, no drum-roll announcement, here’s my book’s working title:

Lily Was the Valley.

It was birthed pretty early on in the process, and I’ll have to admit I’ve grown rather fond of it. Though I know if I ever get a publisher other than Yours Truly Sweat & Tears, retaining titling rights is not a given. But I can still fight for it, right?

I have also recently shared on this blog the story of a pain of Tammy’s (and mine) linked to another story linked to the chorus containing the line “He can move the mountains.” (Read that here if you haven’t yet.)

So anyway, as we continued driving towards those snowcaps, saying our new son’s name over and again to get used to it…

Enoch, playing off the title of my book, said from the back seat:

“Everett Was the Mountain.”

Boom. In that moment God put his finger on Tammy’s heart, on exactly that spot of pain, and healed her in a way she’d never known there. We shared a teary look, then turned ahead to watch the mountains grow nearer.

Certainly we have had our share of unanswered questions in this journey called Adoption. But how great on that day to have him be so clear:

“I see you. When you walked your valley, I saw then, too: I felt what you felt. And way back then, I saw this boy. I knew that I would one day put him into your family even though you insisted you could not, and never would, adopt an older child. That was a mountain.

“So was his fear no family would ever choose him. That was a mountain.

“I still move mountains.”

If I ever write a memoir sequel to Lily Was the Valley, I may have to credit Enoch with coming up with one cool title.

 

[If you have a word of Welcome for Everett Ephraim Johnson, would you leave it in the comment section? We will read/translate it for him as soon as he comes home. And save it up for him to have for himself once he learns English.]

short adoption update

Paperwork is in full swing. Other than that, nothing much to report on the adoption front. In the past week (along with many other forms) both Tammy and I had to spend well over 4 hours filling out one particularly long form. Paperwork was one of the things that had most kept me from being willing to adopt again…

Last week we mailed our first “overnight” package back to the U.S. It actually takes a week. $50. We had to use DHL because even though FedEx has an office in our city, they don’t, go figure, do international shipments.

Nuts & Bolts:

Right after posting this I’ll be jumping over to Facebook to see if my new “auto-post to Facebook” plug-in installed correctly…

Also—thank you for the request, Chaney—it is now possible to sign up to receive notification of new posts by email. Make things easy on yourself! Signup form is over in the right left!-hand column.

The same option (as well as the option to sign up for new comments) also now appears at the bottom of every comment section.

 

As to our soon-to-be son, we haven’t heard if he’s been told he has a family yet or not. We don’t think so. He has no idea the turn his story is about to take. No idea that Someone sees him, and has always seen him. No clue that that same Someone is writing a story for him. A story in which he becomes Son again, seven years after losing his parents.

Loved and wanted.

Isn’t that what you crave most?

Oh, we’ve also  settled on his new names. I’ll tell that story soon. It’s a good one.