Sunday

A few interesting things after I posted my blog last night.  It seemed Julia just got tired of being sad.  She and Libby were under a blanket together, and she seemed to finally just relax a little.  Also, Jon Eide, a local Mission to the World missionary called us and arranged for us to go to the church plant they are working with.  So that was the plan today.  We got up and started the day with no hot water.  It teased us - it wasn't freezing cold, but it would not get warm . . forget hot!  At least we were awake after our shower!  It wasn't really that bad. It was just a tad above the temperature that would make you shiver (can you really get clean if all your pores are puckered shut into goosebumps?). Jon sent a taxi for us, who took us out near where the church meets.  As it turns out, we were standing near a casino with a man-market going on while we were there.  We had flashbacks to our trip to Odessa.  We were just standing by the side of the road, we didn't know where we were going, and we didn't know how to get back to our apartment.  Fortunately, Jon's daughter walked up and took us to church.  We had a great lunch - we bought a chicken yesterday, so we cooked that, had mashed potatoes and salad.  Not bad, considering we never know what half the stuff is that we buy.  I had a mini-celebration seeing that Auburn beat A&M.  I was hoping, but would not have bet on it.  Today was much better with Julia, until I went and acted all fatherly and made Julia cry.  A necessary conversation, but also difficult.  As I'm sure you all know, it is not the first time I have made one of my girls cry.  But she and Libby are snuggling under the blanket again (an advantage to cool temperatures at night) and she seems to be okay.  

Saturday in Kiev

That sounds like an exciting title, doesn't it?  Sorry if I misled you.  Today was a difficult day.  Julia is deeply mourning leaving her friends, and spent too much time conversing with them on the Ukrainian version of facebook.  It is very hard to make time pass - there is simply nothing to do.  It was too chilly to just wander around outside, and not being able to talk to Julia greatly handicaps the fun these adventures might otherwise be for her. We went shopping for food a couple of times, so we can cook in the apartment and try to save some money.  Supper wasn't quite as good as it could have been since the jar we thought was spaghetti sauce was really only tomato paste.  We ate it anyway.  We had to go find a few items for Julia (she came away from the orphanage with only one pair of socks!), no hair brush, no tooth brush.  It is all a mystery.  We found them in the underground shops in the tunnels under the major roads.  At least I knew where to go to look for things.  We made a few very small steps at working on English today, but she was just so sad, her heart wasn't in it.  Our apartment is nice, with separate bedrooms, so we can have some small amount of privacy.  We have a washing machine again (yeah!), so we have both the drying rack, and my rope loaded up with damp clothes, with the hope of clean underwear tomorrow!  Still issues with immigration.  I have written the embassy again, but of course cannot talk to them until Monday.  I will see what they can do, but then I think it is time to unleash the big guns.  It will be Senator Sessions and Congresswoman Roby time.

Here is Libby and Julia cooking supper together.

Musings

Sometimes having too much time is a bad thing.  When you have burdens on your mind, and nothing to otherwise occupy you, you think thoughts that can stir fears and doubts.  The slow motion day yesterday was one of those times.  What are we really doing? Why are we here?  Is this really the best thing for Julia?  Sitting at the table at the pizza place and watching her having fun with her friends, and knowing that in just a few minutes she would get in a car and never see them again, I wondered at the meaning of adoption.  What did God know before He adopted His children? ( I know God knows all things - that's not what I mean).  Did He expect me to be grateful? Would I grasp the significance of what He saved me from, and the potential of the path He set me on?  Would I wish for the old way of life and old friends, or would I be happy knowing that what lay before me was much better? (Would I be like the Israelites and long for Egypt instead of the promised land?)  So what does Julia know?  Does she know that in just a couple of years, all of her friends would scatter anyway, and she would have to make her way in life (just as happens in the US when kids leave high school and head off to college)?  Does she know the statistics that of graduating female orphans in Ukraine, 75% will wind up as prostitutes or dragged into the sex slave trade?  And what about me?  What do I expect?  Will she love me?  Or thank me?  Will she even learn English?  I DON'T know all things, neither can I control the future, or "cause all things to work for the good for those who love me".  The price I am paying is time and money, and some frustration thrown in.  Libby and I have decided to love our new daughter, not for anything she has done or will do, but because we have set our mind and heart to do so.  God has shown His love to us in this way: that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.  So how intense was God's love for us?  "For God so loved [me] that he gave His only begotten son, that whosoever believes in Him, will not perish, but have everlasting life."  I only have to spend money.  My adoption cost the Son of God his LIFE.  The confidence we have, that we must have, is that God knows all these things, he DOES know our future, and the plans He has for us and for Julia.  We keep pressing forward, not with clear vision, but with hope that God hears and acts and will cause all things to work for our good and His glory, because we love him and are called according to his purposes.

Back in Kiev

Today was emotionally draining.  It was like knowing a dark secret that was to be sprung on someone, even though the day should have been pure joy.  We knew it would it be sad for Julia, to leave all her friends, and we knew the timing.  It would be right after the pizza party.  So the day unfolded in slow motion.  We packed everything and took it to the lobby to wait until Stas appeared.  We then went by the orphanage to get Julia's medicine, and give presents to the Director and assistant director (neither of them were there), then we went to say goodbye to Cosette and the kids.  Sean was out with Svetlana on his first day pursuing a birth certificate and passport.  Then back to the orphanage at 2:00 to track down Julia, only to be told she was not there.  She had run off (ahhhh . . that's what WE were thinking, too) she had run off to say goodbye to her brother and sister.  So we killed some time and came back closer to 3:00. She had returned, thank goodness, and brought down her belongings, whatever they might be (we did not look in her bag) in a suitcase which is not the one we gave her last year.  I think that is just how things work in the orphanage.  It took a while to round up all the kids who were going, but we eventually wound up with about ten teenagers.  The pizza party was fun, but then the awful surprise.  The kids were returning to the orphanage, but Julia was not.  And the realization hit all the kids at once.  This was it.  And the tears and hugs commenced.  It was a sad ride to Kiev, not to mention fast and very rough.  I was sure a few vertebrae in my lower back would be cracked.  I cannot count the number of times the car bottomed out hard at 80 mph.  But we got settled in to a nice apartment, but only for one night.  We will have to move tomorrow.

Finally . . . Progress!

Can you hear us screaming?  I have Sean properly trained, and he actually said to me "Touchdown, Auburn!"  We drove to Sumy (again), got to the right office to get the correct piece of paper, then Svetlana took that critical piece of paper to another office that absolutely had to have that piece of paper, and we headed to a different building 10-15 minutes away where the passport photo would be taken.  Svetlana banged on a door, which eventually opened, only to find out that on Thursdays, that office did not open until 2:00 pm.  It was only 10:30.  So we set out for the DHL office, and found it with no problem.  We went in, trying to figure out how to print the final translation I needed of the original birth certificate.  The lady was very helpful, and just let me sit at her computer and get into my email, and print it.  Easy!  So the critical package to immigration is now in the hands of DHL, set to be delivered in Missouri on Monday.  However, DHL did not take a credit card, so between the hotel bill, DHL, and the taxi fare, my hryvnias were wiped out.  No problem.  We still had plenty of time, so we found a local bank.  This was a funny experience.  Mine was either the first American passport they had ever seen, or it was a new women helping me, or both, or even a third option, but it was painful waiting for them to do all the paperwork and computer entry they did to change out my money.  But eventually, they handed it over.  Still more time to kill, so we went to lunch.  We ate at a Ukrainian restaurant (which had an American West theme).  It was very good.  We lounged around for a bit and finally it was time to go back for the photos.  This was more torture.  Svetlana would disappear in a door for a while, then reappear and go to a different door, etc.  But eventually she returned, and right as she got to the car, she started smiling and said we were done!  Tomorrow, we check out of the hotel that has been our home for about three weeks, have Julia's pizza party, and head to Kiev.  To help celebrate, the Foxes invited us over for dinner.  It is like a relay race.  We have finished our leg, and they start the whole process tomorrow.

Small steps forward

We didn't do much of anything all day.  It was rainy in the morning, turning to heavy mist as the day wore on.  By afternoon the rain had stopped, but remained heavy overcast and cool.  I emailed the embassy and copied the adoption staff, trying to develop a comprehensive list of all the documents I needed to send to immigration.  There were two I missed, so I called Andrew, and even though he was out of town, he called his parents to tell them to let me in.  I hiked down to his apartment, printed the two documents I needed, and hiked back.  We visited with the Foxes a little bit, then saw Julia for a couple of hours, and then finally caught up with Svetlana.  She had been to Sumy all day, still trying to break the log jam free.  She is hopeful that the final document will be ready at 9:00 am, so we are leaving here at 7:30 am to arrive in Sumy on time. We reviewed the package of documents, and realized that we were missing two english translations of documents.  So back on the phine, called Andrew, Libby and I hiked in the dark and wet back to the apartment, and I printed two more documents.  Women are amazing creatures.  Libby and Mrs. Andrew's mom sat on the side of the bed and looked at pictures and chatted like old friends, with hardly any comprehension at all, and yet they communicated just fine.  We hiked back home, but realized we had nothing for breakfast, so we stopped at one of the many small stores on the way, and found something to eat.  Back to our room, down to the cafe for supper finally, at 8:30 pm, and now almost to bed.  And of course, because this paperwork exercise has been snake-bit, one of the two documents I printed is the wrong document.  Svetlana said to get the translation of the new birth certificate, but I really needed the translation of the old birth certificate.  We will have to try and deal with this tomorrow.

One funny observation, at least to me.  Modern strollers in the United States are pretty fancy gizmos, but in Ukraine, they are Cadillac versions.  It seems to be a cultural thing that it is a healthy practice to make sure your kids get out in the fresh air, no matter the temperature, even from a young age.  So these strollers are built like winter fortresses.  Quilted sides and bottoms, cocoon enclosures with a warm top cover.  When it is chilly, all you see is a pudgy face peeking out with a stocking cap pulled down to the eyebrows.  Strollers and moms are everywhere, everyday.

(Libby)

Today was a day of rejoicing and choosing gratitude after a day of failure.  When we think of all the myriad ways God has blessed us it is shameful that we got so discouraged yesterday.  Many of you prayed for us, many of you emailed us, many of you are helping us in various ways.  We thank you and we thank our amazing God!  I finally had the privilege of meeting Andrew's parents.  His father was gracious and gentlemanly, like Andrew.  His mother welcomed me like an old friend even though conversation was impossible.  We were able to communicate in spite of everything.  It is humbling to receive so many kindnesses and not be able to even thank people adequately.  We certainly owe many debts of love.  When we left, Andrew's father brought a lovely plate of apples for us.  Then his mother brought a bag for us to take them in.  We also had a great visit with Julia today.  She used more English and we laughed and had fun together.  She is very affectionate and seems to be happy to have parents, even when we must set limits or tell her no about some things.  Today was a good day.  We also got a picture with the girls from the cafe who have endured our lack of Ukrainian language and have helped us order our food so many times.  We hope to be traveling to Kiev on Friday!  Prayers please!

This will be Short

Have you ever had a day, after which, it is better just not to talk about it?  Well, it was "one of those days".  We are going backwards.  We spent 7 hours in the car today, either driving to Sumy, or sitting outside a government building waiting for Svetlana.  We went there today to take passport photos, and never even got to the photographer.  I can't write about it . . . I might put my fingers through the Ipad.  And immigration is no better.  They have placed me in a Catch 22.  I basically have to do two different things separately, and together, at the same time, but not all at once.  Make sense?  Not to me either.

I better stop now.  I feel the effects of the truffle and cookie wearing off rapidly.