Here’s the short version, the answers to the questions I get asked most often.
We don’t know when our court date might be. The most likely guess is sometime between December and March, but it could always be longer because we are dependent on the Ethiopian government and that is unpredictable.
We have paid all of our agency fees. We were able to fundraise and save all $26,000 we needed to pay our agency. There were so many people who gave generously to our adoption. Our adoption wouldn’t be happening without those donations and the provision of our Faithful God.
We still will need to pay for our travel. When we travel for court, that expense is completely up to us to provide. We estimate that it will cost around $8,000.
We will be able to bring Hezekiah home when we travel for court. Whenever we are finally able to travel, we will be bringing our son home with us when we come home. We will need to be in Ethiopia for three weeks.
This little boy is not the same 4-year-old boy, “A”, that we were hoping to adopt at Christmastime. You can read more about that below or in our last blog post.
Thank you to everyone who has prayed for us, shared about our adoption, let me know you were praying for us, donated to our adoption, or participated in one or more of our bazillion fundraisers.
I really am appreciative.
Here’s the long version of the story, for those of you who love more details.
The weekend after Thanksgiving, we were driving home from visiting my family in Ft. Worth when I pulled up a waiting child list and saw a precious little face. The waiting child list was on a private webpage and it included children that they had not been able to find a family for from among the families adopting through their agency. This little boy was just the age we had hoped to adopt, and we knew we could be a home for him. We emailed the agency (which was a completely different adoption agency that had been using and paid all of our fees to) to see if this little boy still needed a family.
A week later we had found out that this sweet little boy was still waiting for a family, and we were trying to make the difficult decision of switch agencies to try to adopt him or stay with our agency with no end in sight to our waiting. The biggest factor was money. We had paid our current agency about one-third of the money required for an international adoption, and we wouldn’t get any of it back if we switched agencies. Also, we would need to pay over twice the amount we had paid thus far and pay for yet another home study for the new agency. It was money we didn’t have, and we would have to trust God to provide it.
We took the leap. I have the conviction that God does not view money the way we people do, and I never want to make a ministry decision based solely on money. We switched agencies and began fundraising.
From the first week of December until the last week of February we fundraised like mad people. We did bake sales, present wrapping, garage sales, barbecues, craft sales, and online auctions. We downright asked for handouts. We made a video asking everyone to give $2 and invite 10 friends to do the same. Our Paypal account was flooded by generous people. After a few months of constant fundraising, we were still about $7,000 short of paying all of our new agency’s fees. Paying off those fees would allow us to sign the contract that would make sure that we would be the family that would adopt this sweet boy. We were so sure that this was the boy God had in mind for our family.
One afternoon the last week of February, I was pulling into the craft store parking lot. I was in the middle of making more crafts for yet another fundraiser, and my phone rang. It was our new social worker on the phone. She had some tough news to share about “our boy.” My first thought was that he was sick or worse. She shared that without their knowledge, the remote orphanage that our sweet boy was at had contacted a different agency to advocate for finding a family. Another family had stepped up to adopt him through another agency. They had already completed their home study and all of their paperwork. This family had paid all their agency’s fees and signed a contract of adoption with the orphanage. All of this had been done weeks ago without our agency’s knowledge, and the orphanage had decided to let this other family proceed with the adoption.
This news was devastating. I mourned this loss hard. In the middle of grief was tremendous guilt. Wasn’t I happy that he was still healthy and still was going to be adopted into a family? Hurt mixed with guilt is a recipe for some awful thoughts about yourself. I felt so selfish for being so upset.
I just kept thinking, but we had worked so hard. We had spent every free moment for months fundraising, working on our new home study, and rebuilding our adoption paperwork from scratch, every single paper had to be resigned because our old paperwork was too outdated.
I was also so confused by this news. We had felt so sure that this boy was the reason our family had been called to adoption.
It took a few weeks before the hurt began to subside in my heart. We could have easily walked away from the idea of adoption after this huge disappointment, but we didn’t. Both my husband and I had seen the faces of children in the orphanages we had visited. We had held the babies and played games with the children. We knew we had to keep going. We had to trust God that He still had a plan.
About two months later, we received the phone call I had been dreaming about for four years. Our new agency called to say there was a little boy they would like to refer to our family, meaning that if we were ready to adopt him, they would help us do it. She didn’t give us any details about the little boy, other than his age. She said that the agency would email us his file in a few days that would have all of his pictures and information.
We were so anxious to receive that email. Two days later, we received the email. We were blown away at how precious this little boy was, and we were in shock that we were going to get to adopt him. Our giddiness lasted only a few hours because by that evening we had learned that the Ethiopian government had suspended international adoptions with no reason given or timeline for the suspension to end.
It was the 21st of April, and the spring and beginning of summer is a blur of setting in my backyard trying to focus on anything besides the adoption suspension.
I’d like to tell you that during that season, I completely leaned on the Lord, but many times I leaned on Dunkin Donuts frozen coffees. Worry was so present in my mind those days that it would completely fog my brain, and the only thing that seemed to make me feel like a human was a big dose of sugar and caffeine in the form of a blended corporate concoction. It was also clear to me that my vitamin d levels were suffering from the inside life I lived all winter. A typical day this spring included me doing the minimum school work to finish up our home schooler’s first-grade year while taking every opportunity to refresh my email, search keywords “adoption and Ethiopia” on Twitter, and stocking all the adoption Facebook groups for any clue of what was going to happen with our adoption.
By the time James came home from his work at the church, I was a mess and we would get in the car and get our frozen coffee fix for the day.
Sure I prayed and I would tell you that God was in control, but if someone else said that God’s timing was perfect one more time I would have thrown my frozen coffee in their face.
Would God give us a picture of a beautiful boy who needed a home and then tell us our adoption journey was done? I honestly didn’t know.
I kept telling God that this whole adoption was His idea, not mine. Why would He give us this calling, allow our hearts to be fully devoted to the idea of bringing an Ethiopian child into our family, and then threaten to let us fall on our face?
The hard questions weren’t just directed at God. I accused myself of not really caring about this adorable little boy but really being upset because I would look like a failure if this adoption I had so publicly pursued would end without success.
I spent a lot of time in my Bible that spring reading the words of the prophets Jeremiah and Isaiah. God’s promise of redemption through His Son was centuries away from those generations, but God was determined to give His people hope.
I needed hope more than frozen coffee.