The Dream – An Epic Adoption Story
May 2007
You ever heard God speak to you?
I mean have you heard the still, small voice of the LORD? Or been visited by angels? Even in a dream?
I hear Muslims put a lot of stock in dreams, and that often this is where God is most effective at communicating the truth about Jesus. But I have trouble remembering dreams…at least I did.
Out of the blue God visits me in a dream and tells me that I’m going to have a son.
No joke.
The next morning I actually remembered the encounter and tell Kristi. Me remembering anything, much less while I am sleeping, is a miracle in and of itself.
Anyway, let’s just say she and Sarah have something in common other than her ravishing good looks, and while I thought the dream was strange I didn’t think it was funny…
An Epic Adoption Story – January 30 Update
We feel like we’re in one of those scenes from The Matrix where bullets are flying and we’re in super slow motion, at least our minds are while our bodies are definitely on their way to Uganda. But our minds are still stuck back in, “Is the day ever going to come God? Are we ever going to actually finish this deal?” After 3 ½ years of waiting and only three days to switch gears it just still seems like a dream.
Several times on the planes or in the airports Kristi and I just look at each other and shake our heads and say, “Is this really happening?” or “We’re going to Africa.” I’m writing this as we wait in a Starbucks in Amsterdam for the last leg of our trip for the union.
I want to call it a reunion. After all we’ve prayed for these kids every day for two years, but in reality it’s just a union…our first connection. Even as I write those words tears begin to well up in my eyes.
As we have dreamed about what the moment we see our children will be like. I never dreamed our first encounter would be at the airport. I have envisioned and romanticized it in my mind. It’s a hot day, around 2:00 pm in the afternoon and we show up at the orphanage and they run into our arms and we ride off into the sunset. Never in the midst of the chaos that is the Ugandan Airport, never did I think that this would happen at night, nor after we have been awake for 24 hours straight.
But if I have learned anything on this Epic Journey it’s that I am just supposed to be an actor in a play for which I know the character I’m supposed to play (Jesus), but the lines, the actions, the circumstances are all improvisational. Nothing is known, at least by us, except that God is God.
I heard Andy Stanley a few years ago say something that was profound enough to end up posted in my office. I read it almost every day, but it only recently seemed to be purposed for this moment. He said, “When it is time God will get you there.” I always applied that to ministry, but never to family. With Mom gone and now 3 ½ years spent toiling none of this has happened the way I think it should have. My new children were supposed to meet their Grandma Sharon, be here at the ages of 3, 4, and 5, and this might be the time when we’d think about coming back to Uganda for a visit. I know without a doubt that those plans were insufficient, and we could not see why this is THE time because “When it is time God will get you there.”
Compassion – An Epic Adoption Story
So, after Dennis (pronounced Daneese), came three more Compassion children into our lives. We continued to do the whole birthday match thing and made it a Christmas tradition as a gift to each of our children when they were old enough to write a letter.
Baili’s first Compassion child was tragically killed in an auto accident. She was hit by a car. We had only gotten to know her for a few months. Baili was sad, and too young to process the finality of the event, but Kristi was broken. I can still remember the phone call as Kristi wept as if we had lost our own child. This was supposed to be a cool idea for our kids, and instead it was changing us too. The reality of the Third World had crept into our lives, and the fragility of the life of a child was no longer an idea, but was felt deeply that day.
Help a Child
Compassion sent us another child. This time it was a boy, from Haiti. Roodnelson, known as Son, didn’t have the same birthday, but we didn’t care. He was cute as a button. We couldn’t refuse.Mallori was the last to receive her Compassion child, Emma from Kenya. We now had an African connection.
We read their letters, have the kids write them back, and have made them a part of our family as best we can. Shelbi eventually wants to visit Dennis. It’ll be a priority after we get our new kids home.
Every night our girls would pray and eventually the routine became, “God I pray for Son, Dennis, and Emma.” And that ritual continues to this day.
Go here for the previous chapter in this adventure.
To find out more about Compassion International click on the link, or if you really want to be impacted go read this book.