She Loves - Series Day 12: Tales of Adoption

First and foremost, it's Noooovemberrrrr! I love this month for a slew of different reasons. It's National Adoption Month, my birthday month, Thanksgiving, football season, beanie & scarf season, boot weather... yeah, I'm absolutely that girl that feels about November the way many people feel about Fall in general: YESSS.

With that being said, today's verse ties in perfectly with how I wanted to kick off this month: by celebrating National Adoption Month [let's call it NAM]! 

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.

- Psalm 139:14 [NIV]

 

I shared this picture on Facebook earlier today, in celebration of NAM: It's probably now my favorite photo-mark that I've done for NAM over the past few years,; it's obviously from the wedding, and you guys, I am in love with what this says about my family.. namely my parents.

There was a comment after I posted, asking me to share the story of my adoption. Don't worry guys, it's not super complicated, but Jen, thank you for prompting me to do the obvious, and re-count the bottomless blessing that is [my] adoption. So here's my story, in a nutshell: 

********************** 

Children are a heritage from the Lord,
offspring a reward from Him.
- Psalm 127:3

That sounds rather indisputable, and as a parent now, I can confirm that the reward part is without question true. Children are the past, present and future of humanity, if you think about it. Both our ancestors and we were them, we raise them, we teach them and we prepare them to take our places. They are literally heritage. 

So when having children is part of someone's dream, it goes without saying that the disappointment in being unable to - for whatever the reason - is heartbreaking. As a Christian, I still struggle to understand when I hear about an expectant couple losing their baby to a miscarriage. I don't want to accept the bigger picture when my friend whose marriage is wavering because they cannot conceive a child. I am not the woman who swallows envy and bitterness when she sees other women whose bodies were capable of enduring pregnancy. I cannot imagine. 

That was my mom. That was my dad. That was my family. The abridged version is that my parents tried so many times that they lost count. An army of doctors couldn't come up with an answer they hadn't already heard. They hopefully forged ahead and each time were met with bad news. The breaking straw was when the miscarriage came, somewhere between month 5 and 6. 

Two people with a dream of being parents. Of instilling in another human the love and life that to this day is the exact definition of who they are as humans. They were at the end of the road. Again. 

It could have stopped there. They could have let that pain dissolve any further talk on the matter of parenthood. It could have consumed them, and destroyed a marriage. 

But by the GRACE OF GOD, that is not who my mother and father are. [My fingers just wrote that on their own and now I'm crying.. okay..]. So they picked up the pieces. They relied on each other and their support network to provide that bridge back to normalcy, to clarity. And then they set their jaws and got real with the sky-high, seemingly indestructible wall between them and parenthood. They sought out local resources and information on adoption. They ignored nay-sayers. They began the 2+-year process of an international adoption. 

And one day, months and months after that first step of faith, they received this: 

[my first mugshot!]

Ya'll. That's me. That is the picture they received from the agency, of a clearly-frightened, gender ambiguous-in-appearance, malnourished little girl on the other side of the world, at an orphanage in Cebu City, Philippines. THIS, you guys, is the picture that solidified my future as an adoptee. 

You will never convince me that this wasn't a God thing. 

I look like a lot of sad, strange things in this picture, but a cuddly, poster-baby is not, in my opinion, one of them. So understandably, when I've asked my parents what it was about this picture that said 'this is the one,' their honest answer has always been, "We just knew." And as hard as I tried to force a more detailed answer over the years, the more I've realized that it had nothing to do with them or with me. 

Fast forward to my debut on American soil: 

day 1.

Sometime, 1985: This was taken I believe at some legal appointment to establish my citizenship, because naturalization when you're a baby does not include testing through the history of the country and also the periodic table can I get an Aaaamen. Haha. Seriously though. I became theirs and they became mine, by the authority of the U.S. Government and the State of Colorado. 

And they became the type of first time parents that everyone else does: 

almost. this is... so close. ;) 

That's dad, and me, somewhere in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. We still laugh at all the camping expeditions that ended with me finding new and improved ways to make myself miserable... because that's what kids do naturally, and if there's any guarantee, it's that Mom & Dad learn it all right along with us, the first time it happens. There's no manual for new parenthood, and there's certainly no Cliff Notes for the first-timer who steps in after 16+months. 

family out (dad's side of the family) 

There is however, a nice, long learning curve for adoptive families, that manifests itself in a variety of challenging ways. In some cases that I've heard, it's intense separation anxiety. Sometimes an overall identity crisis. Social issues, depression, loneliness. In my case, it came in the form of emotional detachment and anger under stress. For all we could see, I appeared to be well-adjusted for the most part on a good day, but [and especially as] I approached my tween and teen years, my coping abilities seemed to fail more often than not through stressful situations: disagreements with my parents, puppy-love breakups, tween social drama, academic pressure, sports, loss of pets & family members. You know..... life. I vividly remember more than one occasion of lying on my bedroom floor, staring at my ceiling, and speaking audibly to nobody in particular: 

"This is not literally going to kill you. Get a grip." 

At 16, I "ran away" from home. Before you gasp at that, I "ran" to the other side of our small town and lived with one of my friends for less than a month. Looking back now, I know my parents knew, even though I liked to pretend then that I was completely off the grid. I mean, c'mon, it was during the school year. I didn't miss a day of school and was still getting straight A's. When I "went home," I got sent to see a therapist. That was the worst part, because especially now, I realize that that man should've have ever been tasked with my case - he didn't know the first thing about adopted kids. 

I was not always kind to my parents. No kid always is, but in my parents' case, I put them through a specific season of challenges because we were both, in the big scheme of things, gravely uneducated and far out of touch with how to process through my adolescent life as an adoptive family. Among the many things I see now looking back, what stands out to me most is just.how.undeserving I was of their unconditional love. Their faith in me to be resilient, even if it was in my own way, and most of all, their transparency and honesty in admitting that they were but two people doing their very best and then some for that little girl they worked so tirelessly to call their own before she was even born. 

senior recognition night, 2003

I graduated high school. I made it through college. I said goodbye to both of my grandmothers [my grandfathers had both passed before my 4th birthday]. I wrecked cars. I suffered and recovered from a slew of sports injuries.I started & left jobs. I moved once a year it seemed throughout and soon after college, with and without roommates. I gave birth to my daughter. I lived life and so far I have done all of it because of and with them by my side, even at my darkest. My faith in myself has been suspended on several occasions, but theirs has never faltered, not once. 

[I would love to share more, but this is already much longer than I intended... if there are questions you have about life as an adoptee, I am happy to share anything else you want.. message me!] 

I have heard adoptive parents say their kids are the greatest blessing. What they might forget is that they are in fact OUR blessing. ♥

family. ♥

And this is modern day. This life I have now: everything and everyone in it, is because God planted a seed in the heart of two devastated people all those years ago, to have hope and faith that he would multiply their blessings and their wishes tenfold in the wake of heartache. I have not been the perfect daughter, but I am theirs, and they are mine. And let me tell you guys: 

I praise Him because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; His works are wonderful, I know that full well.

Happy National Adoption Month, to all our fellow adopters & adoptees... and HAPPY NOVEMBER to everyone else!

xo | cms

Happy NOVEMBER!

I'm a day late on ushering in November, but today seemed far more fitting a day to do so than yesterday anyway. 

yes! 

I woke up today with two immediate options: 1 - Early church service and then yoga at Rhingeist, and 2 - Regular church service and no morning yoga.

It's Sunday. I wanted to sleep in a few more minutes before five full days of up-at-its before 6am, so 11am church it was. Anyway, we walked into today's message not knowing what to really expect, and walked back out with a commitment to return in the evening for an informational session.

You see, November is National Adoption Month! Here's the little blurb I posted along with that collage earlier this afternoon:

#November isn't just my #birthday month; it's #NationalAdoptionMonth! I'll bid adieu to my 20's in a few weeks, but my love of and appreciation for my own #adoption will never age. 

My biological mother's choice to surrender me reflected courage & selfless sacrifice in hope for her child to prosper beyond her resources - the type of selfless love I can only hope to exercise in my own life. Her last declare of maternal rights was that I be placed in a practicing Christian home. I was an #orphan. A couple who valued family over biology were called to choose, #adopt and love me as their own. And with that, I was placed by grace into a home half a world away.

My life would have been exponentially different if not for adoption. I am among the SMALL fraction of orphaned children who are #blessed enough with a second chance to find life and #giveback.

I'm #HONORED to #CELEBRATE #family this month. Cheers, all my fellow #adoptees & #adoptive families! Happy November!

It's something that I often take for granted, when I'm flying at lightspeed through a day in the life that I live, in this culture of ours that is all hustle & bustle, with deadlines and consequences for missing them. I don't always think to count the opportunity to participate in this life as a blessing rather than a burden, because the alternative is a rather stark contrast.

Amen? Amen.

So after a morning message about our purpose in life to reach out to people... to love and honor people.. to give of ourselves to people, we decided to come back in the evening to gather information on the church's planned mission trips for Spring 2015.

I'm happy to share more in detail about these upcoming trips when the time is right, but for now, I'm going to only ask that anyone reading along today, for whatever reason you're here reading - just... pray. The two trip options as they stand now are either Haiti or Panama. Both have clear advantages, and drawbacks as well.

PLEASE PRAY! ... 

... For the leadership team at my church, whose planning well precedes the initial meeting they held today. 

... For the other people who sat there for an hour watching past footage and testimony of those who've been to these places and touched the mission with their own hands. 

... For those who are there, in the middle of unimaginable poverty, disease, famine and spiritual desolation, reaching into untouched groups of people with the purpose of enrichment & love. 

... For the orphans, who, like myself, are/were not responsible for their circumstance. Pray that they will find the peace, attention, love and adoration they both crave and deserve. Pray that they, like I as well, will by grace become a tenfold blessing to a family that's missing what will be completed by adding even just one, beautiful little spirit to its bind. 

... For Rob & me, as we pray together over this, to determine if.. and if so, which trip to commit ourselves. It will be a spiritual, physical & financial commitment that we won't make overnight. 

One of my truly beautiful friends Marianne leaves tomorrow for a 3-month Italy endeavor: a mission-bound trip on which I have no doubt she'll grow just as much as the kids she'll be reaching. We're called to step OUT of our comfort zones. We're called to do MORE than live in the safety of our own schedules. 

We're called to lead, to love and to LET GOD do the rest. 

Happy Sunday, to you & yours!! 

xo | cmd

#EndItMovement : End Human Slavery.

The world in which we live is a beautiful, enjoyable place if you look at it through the eyes of someone who's in a place they can enjoy. For others, life is an ugly, unforgiving monster with a battery of unending pain, hardships, failures and even torture.

I am fortunate enough to find myself among those who can look at [my] life and realize that while it hasn't been perfect, it is by far more than I deserve. I have what every person needs: a family, friends, a stable home life, a job, a car, etc., etc. The list goes on and on of the things and people that and whom have blessed me in a million different ways.

But beyond being a person, born abroad but raised and still living in the United States, I am a human.

And I have what every human needs:

LOVE.
FREEDOM.
EMOTIONAL SECURITY.
DIGNITY.
DISTINCTION.
LOVE. REAL LOVE.

Between the core fundamental components we need to survive - food, water, bodily nutrients - and the list of things we are wired as social creatures to desire - companions, a purpose, possessions - well, that's where I believe these things are found.

And I have all of those.
And a lot of people DON'T.

Today is February 27, 2014.
Today is the day we SHINE A LIGHT ON SLAVERY.



www.enditmovement.com

Yes, human slavery. As in, the buying, selling, owning, trading and abusing of human beings. In other words, human trafficking. It makes me ill to even think about the strife suffered by various people groups over the course of history at the hands of others who were so disillusioned that they actively treated other humans as even less than goods on a barter system. YEARS later, we as a general population [at least here in the United States] are ingraining equality as a building block to societal progression.

 

We are BLIND.

For the most part, when the term human trafficking is heard, minds automatically divert to some off-trodden third world country, where basic amenities are scarce and the quality of life in general is sub-par to what we would ever accept here. Or perhaps, we've seen movies like Taken, which shed light that human trafficking operations can be [AND ARE.] buried right beneath the nose of even the most economically-sound hubs. Opportunistic criminals are lurking in places we may not have ever imagined.

 

Like, for instance... here. We call it a homefront, because this is where we live. The U.S.A. Ohio, Alabama, California, New York.. the other 46. You know, the UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. Land of the free, home of the brave? Yes, here. There are men, women and children here, in the shadows of every day American life, who are not living, but simply existing.

 

And that pisses me off.
It should piss you off, too.

 

Not sure that you believe human trafficking exists here in the U.S.? Google a survivor, like Clemmie Greenlee, and listen to her explain to you how she was abducted at age 12, raped by the men who took her, and then shuttled around to major cities with the expectation to sleep with anywhere between 20-40 men daily during major tourist events like the Superbowl. Federal law dictates that the prostitution of a minor is considered sex trafficking. Any parent of a child will tell you that they would lay down their own life if it meant erasing that permanent, irreversible physical and psychological damage to their son or daughter.

 

Slavery doesn't always mean sex trafficking, either. It could mean what I know I understood it to be when I was being taught about it in school: literally forcing another person to obey your commands, regardless of how frivolous or extreme they are. Read up Quita Puchalla's story and tell me that I shouldn't be counting my blessings every single night that as an adopted child myself, this never happened to me. Adopted children, especially those from other countries, sometimes become decidedly "bad calls" by their adoptive families and basically listed online as Free to a Good Home, right between the litter of unwanted puppies and a ferret. REALLY?! These children are traded in underground "markets," if you will, then forced to do things that NO. HUMAN. EVER., let alone a CHILD should have to do. One girl was forced to dig her own grave. She wasn't even 15.

 

This is not right.

This is not okay.

THIS IS NOT LIFE. 

 

So yes, today I pledged the skin on my hands - a SMALL, unutilized surface of my body to be covered with a large red X. It's not much, I know, but it is a statement that I will make today, along with thousands of other people around the world [hopefully] that human slavery MUST end. I wanted to convey this message on two hands, put together to signify the full symbol; no one of us could conquer much on our own, but together we can create movements. And wings. I have always believed birds, owls, even bats.. really anything that can and does fly - they have a liberated vantage point on this world that we could only hope to have. They are nearly without limits if they are allowed to reach their potential, and I know that we as humans should have the same right to find ours. It starts with something as simple as just.. loving someone else.

You are the people who are shaping a better world.
One of the secrets of inner peace is the practice of compassion.
- Dalai Lama 

My heart broke today reading some of the stories from survivors of human trafficking, slavery and torture. It is 2014, which in most minds signifies another year of achieving things we never thought possible. I would hope & feverishly pray that in 2014, the efforts to disband and destroy trafficking operations is a mighty one.

I believe in the power of unity, and in the strength of love over evil.
I believe that every human being not only needs, but deserves:

LOVE.

FREEDOM.

EMOTIONAL SECURITY.

DIGNITY.

DISTINCTION.

LOVE. REAL LOVE.

 

The men, women and children existing in the dark world of human trafficking don't have any of those things. The self-worth they are told they have is the opposite of what they really are. The "love" they know is nothing more than the loyalty forced by fear, not by real love. They are not free. They have no emotional security. Dignity is a word they do not know. Distinction of the reality versus what they've been conditioned to believe is probably more terrifying to weigh than the torture that comes with disobedience or failure.

 

As a parent, I of course have hesitations and concerns with raising children in this - in our - world. I can't keep my children in a bubble. I can't hold them back. And I won't. But, I will show them what love - real, purposed love means. I will teach them that while they may make mistakes, they are not mistakes. They have a purpose. I will not hide the realities of this world and the corruption that comes along with it, but I will shade them as best I can from trading their childlike innocence for hard-fought life lessons before the time is right. I pray that I can show them the beautiful things in this world, and guide them through the ugly parts in ways that teach them to exercise due caution, but above that compassion, love and selflessness.

 

And I pray that these children.. these men.. these women who are at the hands of tyrants.. can find peace. I pray for healing. For justice. For reunion with family, or separation if need be. I pray for the organizations around the world and here locally that tirelessly crusade against modern day human slavery, and for the individual advocates who rescue and council victims from that monster every day.  

We are not called to go where it is easy,
and love already exists.
We are called to go where we are sent,
and bring love with us.
- Anon.
 

Stand up & speak out, friends. It's the least we can do.

xo | cmd

Father's Day 2013

My dad.

I'd never sit here and tell you all that I had the perfect childhood. However, I definitely won't tell you I had a hard one, either. I wasn't a criminal at age 12 or anything like that; like the majority of small town kids, I had limited range to commit too much malarky. Be that as it was, I may've escaped my child and teen years without a juvenile record, but I still managed to put my parents through the ringer a few times before I moved out of the house.

It's one thing for a mom to rustle with her teenage daughter, and all of the angsty head-clashing that comes out of it. I fully expect to grit and grind with Sydni here and there when she's that age, because I know it's normal. It's another thing, though, for a Dad to learn the ways of coping with a hormonal teenage girl. Luckily for Dad, I wasn't one of those girls who had all kinds of teen-boyfriend drama, or genetic acne issues, or even .. I dunno, suppressed sexuality problems. No, nothing like that.

Most of the tension in my adolescent years stemmed from my adoption, and the abandonment issues that it created for me... regardless of what my parents could or would do.


1985. the first time i met my parents.

I'll start there. Any guy can easily become a father to another human being. It takes a man to become a Dad. It takes an even more rare breed of men to commit themselves into that life-long relationship with a child who is not theirs.

I met my parents for the first time in Denver, CO, when I was brought off the plane by the nuns of the orphanage back in the Philippines. Yes, I'm adopted. Yes, my parents were the original Brangelina ;). << I'm joking, but c'mon, as popular as foreign adoptions have become in the last decade, I can't help but giggle a little.
Anyway, I said all of that [and omitted much more] to say that I have been blessed, beyond words, with a DAD who gave everything he had to have a child with my mom. They tried nearly everything, but when they realized it wasn't meant to be for them to have a biological child, they prayed and found themselves choosing me out of a matrix of several other babies.

You don't realize how fortunate you are until you look at a composite of yourself and 15 other kids and know that not all of those children were selected right away by other families for adoption. Then you realize that you had it made - a family who provided for you, guarded you from people who didn't necessarily understand what couthe was when it came to addressing bi-racial families, and never once behaved like you weren't the product of their own fibers.

And while my mother was [and is] one of the strongest women I have ever met, my dad was the head of our household, and I never once had to question his dedication, his loyalty to our family, his availability when we needed him most, or the fact that he would do anything it took to make sure we had what we needed. He was DAD, through and through, the kind of man who makes mistakes and admits them, who loves unconditionally but enforces rules when they're broken.

We've been through a lot. I mean, a lot.
He's never once walked away or led me to think that I couldn't go back, even when I made some huge mistakes of my own. He's the definition of a Dad, and now a grandfather [aka "Pappy"], too.

just some of my family...
heidi. dad. jonathan. me. syd. mom

Sydni doesn't know just yet how lucky she is to have a grandpa like Dad.
She will, though. (:


pappy. syd. mama. | "3 generations"

Happy Father's Day, to my dad, and to all of the other real DADs out there who know what it's like to stick by theirs, without question, who commit without doubt, and who are there -- REALLY there --  when they're needed. It's because of parents like you that this world can still produce decent men and women.

♥ you dad

I love you, Dad.

xo | cmd

A Tuesday with the Truschinski's

I said I would take a more well-spirited attitude with me to work today, and I made good on that promise to myself. Today proved overall to be a much better experience than yesterday. While I was right in predicting that some of my client fires wouldn't fizzle out before 11am, by 5pm the cycles were back in balance and I left with a sense of peace and confidence that I reluctantly did not have at the same time yesterday.

Good stuff.

I actually started off the day with some Joy FM [99.1 fm], which is the normal frequency on our car stereos when the CD's aren't playing. The first thing we always do when we move to a new area is hunt down the best radio stations, so a finding the Christian-based dial is always good. Aaanyway, all week, the morning show hosts have been amped up about Steven Curtis Chapman and his wife Mary Beth being in the studio to talk about their organization, Show Hope. [I just danced to Cinderella as the first dance with my father at our wedding!] I usually stray away [I'm just being honest] from listening on days like these, because I'm a commute-soloist who can usually be spotted at redlights wailing away to some catchy tune. Yeah, don't act like you don't ;).

So this morning, there they are, explaining how the origin and current function of their organization: a medical program operating in China. They provide the medical treatment and corrective operations to children who are otherwise unadoptable in their current physical states. They shared story after story of successful operation or treatment that led to an approved adoption status and ultimately the placement of a child with a life-long family. Talk about tugging at the heartstrings. For me, this holds personal weight since I was an orphan in a third-world country with odds stacked against me. I dedicated the my entire commute to hearing their testimony and how they're impacting lives in a truly measurable way. I rolled into work with a smile on my heart for their work and kept that with me throughout the day.

After work, I headed back to base to grab Sydni and creep [I say creep, because with base speed limits, that's the only thing you'll do] over to the Truschinski house for dinner. On a side note, the Truschinski's have been blessed with one of the most beautiful base housing setups I've ever seen, and Melanie's decorating skills are top-notch. Kudos :).

Dinner was phenomenal, and the kids had the chance to play while the adults had conversation time. Many thanks to Melanie and Ryan for opening their home to us and giving us a break from cooking!

Lastly, but never least: Joe is STILL in the running for a spot on the All Air Force soccer team. His latest report is that he's sore beyond belief, but hanging in there. Our prayers are on the table for him :)

Today was a good day.
Those are the best kind.

xo | cmd