Headed Home

We're in Dubai, waiting to board our 16 hour flight to Houston.  Some of you have asked about our arrival.  We get in on the 1st at 1:05pm on the Continental flight.

Thanks!
Jeff

Tuesday

Today was a test of endurance. We drove 2 hours southwest to the town of Bantu to visit a Buckner/Bright Hope ministry sight. For about 3/4 of the drive, we were on a great highway that passed through towns and fields with small mountains around. Like many African drives, we shared the road with buses, goats, donkeys, horses, cows, and horse driven carts. The other 1/4 of the drive was on a washboard dirt road that jarred us half out of our senses! From time to time we pulled down onto the “service road” dedicated to horse-pulled taxis because it was smoother. We appreciated it, though the cart drivers didn’t seem to. Bantu is tucked in a beautiful valley with farmland and hills. The school was great. We were greeted by 200 children chanting “welcome, welcome” as we pulled in the gate. They have a total of 400 students, 200 in the morning and 200 in the afternoon. We toured the facilities and enjoyed talking to the administrators and the staff. This school has been supported by several churches in East Texas in a partnership much like FBC Amarillo’s partnership with the Baptist Children’s Center in Nairobi. Bereket really did well on the journey until about the last 30 minutes. He’d missed lunch and a nap, which isn’t a great combination for any almost-two-year old. Returning to the guest house and running in the yard was sweet relief. It didn’t take long for him to forgive his parents and for the smile to return.

Tonight is our last in Addis, as we’re taking off tomorrow at 7pm. I asked Mark tonight if he was ready to go home, and he said, “Not really.” He truly has been a trooper in a wide variety of circumstances and a big help to his parents. He was a little uneasy with the driving today, and Darcie told him to just think of it like a ride at Six Flags. His response was that he doesn’t like a lot of the rides at Six Flags! He was quite a hit at the school. All the children wanted to shake his hand, and he handled his “rock star” status well.

We’re excited to get Bereket home. We were talking today about how you’ll probably have to just take our word for it about his big smiles and his charming personality. We have the pictures to prove it! Around new people, however, he gets serious and observant. He’ll warm up over time, I’m sure.

I know that many have already asked about Bereket’s past and his birth mother. She made clear to us that she had no option for taking care of him, and that she wants him to have a better life. We recorded that conversation for Bereket so that when he’s older he will know about his past. Someday he may share more of that with you, but until then we’ll honor the fact that it is his story.

Thank you so much for praying for us! Our bonding with Bereket has exceeded all our expectations. We’ve been amazingly healthy, and Darcie’s back even endured the washboard road. As we were driving through the Ethiopian countryside, Darcie brought up the unexpected nature of God’s paths. To have suggested five years ago that we would be with Mark in Ethiopia, adding a toddler to our family, would have seemed a remote possibility, indeed. We are so thankful for this path, in spite of (and perhaps because of) the difficulty and the waiting.

Tomorrow we pack, run a few errands, and start the 50 hour journey home.

Monday Picture

Monday

Today we had to hit the ground running for our trip to the US Embassy to finalize things from the US side. Our appointment was at 10, but the Buckner folks wanted us there early to perhaps get things moving along. After two security screenings we turned the corner into a waiting room packed with about 20 families with (mostly crying) Ethiopian babies. Since we had the only toddler, we had the little play area in the corner to ourselves as we settled in for our long wait. We alternated eating snacks and playing with the broken toys provided. We did get to meet some great families at a special point in their lives. One by one, the other families were called until we literally were the only ones left in the waiting room! After a two hour wait, we had our five minute appointment with the nice lady on the other side of the glass.  

After lunch we went to another appointment, one which was in some ways more intimidating than the embassy. We met Bereket’s birth mother. A friend made the comment that the decision to relinquish a child is made when there are no choices left. In that conversation our joy at this wonderful blessing in our lives was met with the pain of a mother saying goodbye. It is a tragic irony that love lay behind a mother’s release of a child. The conversation was every bit as wrenching as we expected, though it will be important for our son’s understanding of his life and his past.

We returned to the guest home where another family had picked up two boys, age 8 and 2, today. We played in the yard with them, and Mark and the older boy (without the benefit of a common language) defeated their dads by a healthy margin. Bereket was a delight, chasing Darcie around the yard and laughing with abandon. After dinner, Bereket started to wander around the room, and one of the workers (who is very sweet) picked him up to talk to him. After a few seconds he gave her the arched back treatment and ran back to us. Later she tried to tell him goodbye, and he pushed her toward the door! She seemed a little offended, but to us this was a great indication that he’s bonding well with us and has a proper orientation toward strangers.

We’ve noticed that his strong preference is for tables cleared of all items. I guess there weren’t a lot of knick-knacks at the Baby Home, or maybe its just his sense of modern design. He’s making strides at recognizing what he’s allowed to move and what he’s not, but near bedtime that breaks down a little as he works on “cleaning” with gusto!

We’re seeing our serious little boy of a few days ago change into a funny and even joyful toddler.

Sunday

Bereket again slept better than his parents last night. The boys were so tired last night that we had antiphonal snoring from each end of the room. We spent most of the day at the guest house, playing and getting to know each other better. Darcie and I are suckers for him walking up and throwing his arms in the air. He gets carried and held a lot! From the literature on toddler adoption, we were prepared for him to not really enjoy or tolerate being held. It has been a sweet surprise that he wants to be held close.  

Our most questionable purchase at the market yesterday was a brass horn that Mark just felt he needed. It’s a little loud for my taste. Typically it is used for Ethiopian weddings and funerals, but Mark decided to play it from our balcony. We discovered that it is also useful in calling cows. A big black and white bull trotted up the road, looked at Mark as he blew on the horn, and bellowed in response. Two cows quickly followed. We asked Mark to stop playing since the cows clearly weren’t supposed to be there. The cows then trotted off in the opposite direction from whence they came. A minute or two later the owner went running by. I thought he might be annoyed at us, but he smiled and gave us the “thumbs up” sign. I hope the horn has the same effect in Puckett.

Our only real plan for the day was for Tegist to pick us up at three for church and then eat at a “cultural restaurant.” It ended up being 4:30 before she made it the guest house (flat tire). My fears that church would be over by the time we got there were unfounded. It had been going since 3:00, and we still made it for the last hour and a half. I was picturing slipping into the back for the preaching time. Instead we were led onto the platform in the midst of a healing service with a guest evangelist from Nigeria. I can’t imagine a more different worship time than FBC Amarillo. It was a slain-in-the-spirit, demon-rebuking, prophesying hurricane. Those who needed extra treatment were taken to an area just feet behind our chairs, separated by a curtain. I’m not sure what was going on back there, but it was loud, shook the curtain, and the demons were getting the worst of it. Mark’s eyes were as big as saucers, but he handled it so well. His question to Tegist after the service was, “Is your church always that loud?” I was holding Bereket during the service with one ear against me and my hand cupped over the other, and shockingly, he fell asleep! If he could sleep through that, Howie’s sermons will be a piece of cake. The service ended with a praise song with the worship leader dancing back and forth across the stage. Darcie leaned over and asked Mark if he thought Dan Baker could do that dance. He replied, “Probably not, but Jonathan could.”

The cultural restaurant was a great time. Under normal circumstances we would have considered it loud, but not after worship! They had music and dancing from each part of the country, and we had very traditional, foreign-looking, but delicious Ethiopian food. We were so proud of Mark. He dug right in! Bereket enjoyed it as well. At one point he had a huge piece of injera--a moist flatbread like a thick tortilla or pancake. He was waving it to the beat of the music like it was a tambourine.

We have the embassy appointment tomorrow to make things official from the US side.

What a Difference a Day Makes

Yesterday, when Tegist and Darcie were talking about taking Bereket back to the guest house that afternoon, I admit I was a little hesitant. I’ve known all along my life was going to be changing, but I didn’t know if I was ready right then. It’s been a great 24 hours, though (other than Darcie, Mark, and me not sleeping). We had a leisurely morning at the guest house and then went shopping at the market. I’ve commented before that I’d rather have my eyes gouged out than go to another market for bartering, etc. I was thinking it was going to be even worse with Mark and Bereket along. Both did very well. We went to one little shop as our home base, and I sat with Bereket most of the time. He was perfect! Bereket slept in Darcie’s arms for our three drives today. I don’t think he’s ridden in cars often, and he finds it very soothing. (I hope 16 hour plane rides have the same affect!)

From the market we drove to Bright Hope for his “going away” party. We brought streamers, balloons, bubbles, and gifts for the children (great idea) and party noise makers (terrible idea--at least in my opinion. They seemed to love them!) We had pizza and played games. It was a bittersweet time with the children who are waiting saying goodbye to one who now has a family and with us trying to say thank you to those who took care of our little boy until our family was able to be together.

I had the most unexpected feeling when we first arrived at Bright Hope today. One of the workers wanted to hold him, and I was hesitant to give him up (and Bereket was hesitant to go). They took him upstairs, and I kept thinking, “I need to go check on him.” 24 hours ago I was hesitant to take him. Today I hardly give him up--even for a few minutes!

Back at the guest home, we’ve seen more spark and bigger smiles. He has a great impish grin that makes his eyes light up. He’s already figuring out Mama, Dada, and Mark. We discovered that his word for truck is “beep, beep” (lots of horn usage in this country) and every animal from dogs to cats, to pandas, to zebras make a quietish roaring sound. We’ve also seen a pretty fiercely independent spirit, and he’s starting to express some of his opinions. Just a few reminders that he’s almost two!

Our first night

Well as I feared, our first night with Bereket was pretty much a sleepless one.  Not for him--he slept like a baby!  Darcie, Mark and I were wide-eyed by 4am!  I think it was a combination of adrenaline and lingering jet lag.

Another Picture

Day 2 at Bright Hope/ Day 1 With Bereket

The big event today was the decision to take Bereket back to the guest house with us. We had a very good morning. He came right up to us, and we spent the next couple of hours together, reading, playing, and eating. Even though it is very soon, the caregivers thought we should continue with the good momentum by taking him with us! We piled into Tegist’s crew cab truck, our two kids (that still sounds strange) and her two kids. Like typical Americans we had too much stuff piled all around: backpack, laptop bag, camcorder, camera bag, stroller, etc. They were filling the floorboards and our laps. Bereket sat on his mom’s lap as we went to the Ethiopian National Museum to see some of the world’s oldest bones. After that it was back to the guest house. They cooked spaghetti and meat sauce for us. We think we’ve found Bereket’s love-language (or at the least the key to contentment)--food. The boy can eat! He’s also more solidly built than most Raines’--at least at this point. We had a great time playing in our room. It was a special family gathering together with books and blankies on a queen sized bed. So far he is a very quiet and observant boy, though we're starting to get some smiles cracking his otherwise serious demeanor.  My proud moment of the day came when Darcie was putting him to bed. I was in the next room helping Mark. Darcie put Bereket in the crib, and he starting crying, “Daddy, daddy, daddy!” He ended up falling asleep in Darcie’s arms. They’ve told us he sleeps very well if he’s had a big enough dinner. We'll see.  I’m certainly counting on being up with him at some point tonight. This has been a great Christmas with a most special gift.

Pictures from Yesterday

Day 1 at Bright Hope Baby Sanctuary

We don’t quite have the jeg-lag thing licked yet.  Mark was waking us up at 5 am, convinced it was time to wake up. His reasoning?  He could hear a rooster crowing!  We spent the day with Bereket and friends at the baby home.  When we first walking in, it was a little rocky.  He was half-hiding behind Tegist’s leg, facing the other way.  After a few minutes, Tegist encouraged Darcie to pick him up and take him upstairs to a quiet room with a great view and with several books. He wasn’t happy at first but soon settled in for a sweet time.  

Mark and I got the cold shoulder for a bit longer.  It was at mid-morning coffee and popcorn that we made progress.  He started feeding popcorn to Tegist, then to Darcie, then to Mark and I.  By the afternoon he was laughing with us, allowed me to hold him, and let Mark hold his hand as they walked around the building.  His warming up to us was a very pleasant surprise, and we’re excited about tomorrow.  

For dinner we had a special Christmas buffet at the Sheraton (which is spectacular).  The food was great, but Mark’s 5am wakeup time finally caught up to him.  He was sound asleep during the main course!

Arrival!

This morning we made the final leg--Dubai to Ethiopia. The flight was fine, but we had a frustrating airport experience. After working our way through one line, we were informed we hadn’t gone to the right line. The one we needed to be in was even slower! By the time we made it through customs, ours were the only bags left on the carousel. One of our bags was badly ripped, and our stroller won’t make it until tomorrow. I was fuming by the time we finally made it to the reception area (probably 1.5 hours after landing). The first thing we saw was a driver holding a sign that said: “Rainbs.” I remember feeling a little disappointed that Tegist (the orphanage director) wasn’t there--that she had just sent a driver. We then turned and saw two women with Bereket! He went right up to Darcie and was quite content for her to hug him and pick him up. He let Mark hug him. But Darcie is still regretting handing him to me, because I immediately received the arched back, let-me-out-of-here, treatment. Meeting him there was a truly wonderful surprise. We went to lunch, and it was great seeing him interact with his main caregiver (a young woman also named Tegist). It is clear that there’s a deep bond there. Ultimately, that’s very good news--as he’s clearly been loved--but we can already tell that parting is going to be very difficult! We are now getting settled in the guest house and have met two other families who are staying here. We are looking forward to a full day playing with Bereket tomorrow!!

From Mark (during a brief break from making friends at the guest house): When I first met him, I was happy and surprised that he was there. I thought it was funny how he would throw a stuffed animal on the floor over and over to make us pick it up.

One leg down

We’ve made it to Dubai after a smooth, 15 hour flight!  Mark woke up nice and refreshed after sleeping for 8 hours straight and looked at his much less well-rested parents and said, “When can we do this again?”  We’re all doing well.  After a short night here, we’re off to Addis Ababa in the morning.  

"Blessings"

The following is a part of my reflection on “blessings” in worship from Sunday night (12/20/09). It gives a little history on our adoption process as we prepare to take off tomorrow.  (Rest assured our other posts won't be this long!)

It was a typical, warm summer evening in Dallas. We were eating on the patio of a Mexican restaurant with friends from college, enjoying the night and the chance to be together and to laugh at old stories once again. Two of the couples were pregnant with their second child, and we were talking about those expectations. And as the evening went on I said, “Well we have some news to share, too. We’ll be having a baby in 12-14 months. Of course that earned some surprised looks. “We’ve started an adoption process.” We joked about how that was our elephant pregnancy--a little longer than the typical 9 months, but bearable.

That was in July of 2006. Since that time we’ve had a steady drip of disappointments and setbacks. We certainly haven’t been alone in this, and I know that some of you have been in the very same boat or have experienced something quite similar or much more difficult. Its been a new experience for me. Its not that bad news came all at once. But it came in the form of the phone not ringing, in snippets of information, in rumors of delay, in having to redo our documents as they expired. Did you know fingerprints can expire! I think the government must imagine adoptive parents with sandpaper trying to change their identities.

What has been very difficult about this waiting is that it has not that a case of slow progress. But instead its seemed like the destination was receding from us. Imagine taking a cruise, and at a remote island stop, they let you take out a canoe, to paddle around. And maybe you take a little siesta in the canoe and wake up to find that the cruise ship is starting to leave. At first you can see where the boat is, and its a manageable distance away, and so you paddle towards it, but then it outstrips you fading away over the horizon. It leaves you paddling going somewhere, but never sure if you’ll arrive.

In worship planning the other day, we were working on the advent theme of hope. And a thought struck me that all hope is, is a manner of waiting. Hope is a certain way of handling waiting. And as I’ve looked back over the last 3 1/2 years, when its come to this adoption process, there have certainly been stretches where I’ve lost hope. I took a tourniquet and sealed off that part of my heart so that it wouldn’t infect the rest. But you know what happens when you use a tourniquet for too long.

As I’ve thought about this process, I know that its not just my family or just yours who have experienced something like this. We can sense the ache in the pages of Genesis, when God awoke the dormant hopes of a child for Abraham and Sarah--only for them to face chapter after chapter, decade after decade of waiting. Sarah’s cynicism grew to the point of laughing at the promise of God.

We can see it in Hannah, broken and praying at the temple, emotions roiling to the point that the priest thought she was drunk. We can see it in the disbelief of Zecharias, in the Christmas story, when he debates the possibility of having a child with Gabriel, the angel, and is struck silent for the duration of the pregnancy. Over and over in scripture we can see people stuck. Waiting.

But this may also be the image for Israel in about 6 b.c. and the decades before that. Stuck. Waiting. Wondering if God would save. Looking for his blessing.

In the Old Testament there were two really significant stretches of silence from God. One was in the span between Genesis and Exodus, when the people fell into slavery in Egypt. They went through hundreds of years of silence from God--of suffering and hardship; and waiting. And in a turning point of history it says in Exodus 2: “The sons of Israel cried because of their bondage, and they cried out...and God heard their groaning, and God remembered His covenant...God saw the sons of Israel and God took notice of them.” And those famous events of freedom and liberation and blessing came with Moses and the Exodus and the parting of the sea.

The other period of silence lies between Malachi and Matthew--again, over 400 years--no prophets...no word from God. Just suffering, humiliation, defeat, and waiting. In the Old Testament, the high point had been with David and then Solomon. Israel had real power. People feared them. But that wouldn’t last. They became a conquered and defeated people. Jerusalem was leveled and the temple destroyed. And they were able to regroup and rebuild, but things were never the same. Great powers marched through, and God’s people were pawns in other nation’s schemes. The Greeks swept through under Alexander the Great. Then the Romans.

And under Rome, some kings or governors were more understanding of Israel than others. But at the best of times, they were still an occupied people. Roman officials lived in estates or mansions, while the Jews scratched out a subsistence, and were taxed heavily on even that. The Roman flags and coins had what the Jewish people considered to be idolatrous images. Then at the worst of times, they were ground under the heel of the Romans, with ruler sacrificing a pig to Zeus on the sacred temple altar in Jerusalem. These were terrible days of silence from God...of waiting...of longing--wondering if they were forgotten, wondering if God would save, desperate for the fulfillment of God’s promises--for blessing.

How did Israel do with their waiting? About as well as we do. Some assumed that God wasn’t going to act, so they should. And they’d spark rebellion, maybe surprise a roman garrison or take a town, but the Roman response was swift and devastating. The rebel leaders would end up killed in battle or dead on a cross, and their movements died with them.

Isaiah prophesied about Israel’s time of waiting, and he described them as a people walking in darkness. (Isa 9) And in such a time, the line between hope and despair runs thin.

But the Bible tells us that God’s promises are sure. But his blessings may not always come when and how we expect.

For Darcie, Mark, and me, the silence of our waiting was broken at 1:25 on Sept 14th. I was getting up from my desk, to grab my bible to do a graveside at Llano when the phone rang; “Jeff we have a referral for your family.” It took a moment for that to sink in--a referral is a child. My shock at that sentence reveals that I hadn’t been waiting very well. I had almost come to think that adoption meant writing checks and sharing deeply personal information with strangers. I had lost sight of the fact that a child could be a part of the equation as well.

And so they sent his information and some pictures. I think I can speak for Darcie and Mark in saying that it was love at first sight. Many of you have commented that he has Mark’s eyes and a Raines’ forehead. And so the last few months have been a time of preparing and wondering, and putting that baby bed together. Mark’s first comment was that we’d need to get some more plug covers for the playroom.

Our new son is 21 months old, and I’ve made a habit of asking moms with toddlers how old their children are--trying to get a gauge of our son’s size. We have pair of pajamas that we think are the right size, so we’ve used the “pajama test” around the house. When Mark wanted to figure out which shelf his lego creations should go on, to be out of reach of little brother, we hold up the pajamas to get a ballpark height--and how far he’ll be able to reach.

We’ve called the other families who’ve been to that orphanage in Ethiopia, trying to get the merest scrap of news about our son, and what he’s like. Our manner of waiting has really turned toward expectation and hope and blessing. This has truly been a time of God’s blessing for us. And its added a layer of meaning to this Christmas, preparing and waiting for a child. Those three and a half years have been long ones. But God’s light of blessing, of eulogia, has settled on us. I appreciate the prayers and support of our church family, as we depart tomorrow, to receive a great Christmas blessing of our son. Our Christmas eulogia. Or in the Hebrew, blessing is berekah; or in the related language of Amharic in Ethiopia, Bereket.

Some of you have asked about his name, Bereket. I admit its a little difficult. Darcie tutors 6th graders, and she told some of them about it, and one said, “Well you’ll have to change his name, nobody can say that. You need to pick a good normal, American name, like...Miguel.”

And I’m sure Bereket will get West-Texanized somehow. But the discussion about keeping his name was finished when we learned what it meant. We really couldn’t wait three years for a child and get one who is already named “blessing” and change it!

As we all celebrate Christmas this week, we celebrate the visitation of the blessing of God on all of us. In the great prophecy of Isaiah 9, which I shared earlier, Isaiah proclaims: “The people who walk in darkness will see a great light; those who live in a dark land, the light will shine on them. For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counseller, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.
-Isaiah 9:6

At Christmas, God reached into our world, and split wide the veil of darkness, that his light, his life, and his blessings would shine on us.