So remember in my last post when I mentioned the delegation from the US Department of State coming to Kinshasa at the same time as we were there? Well, today we got an update. And it wasn't good news.
We were able to listen in on a conference call set up by the Dept of State, the US Citizen and Immigration Service, and the US Embassy in Kinshasa. Adoption agencies who had programs in the DRC and adoptive families whose children are stuck in country were able to take part as well.
First of all, let me mention what an AMAZING thing it is that our Department of State has taken part in this and is doing this much for these kids and this program. This is not the norm in the international adoption world. We are so grateful that our government has taken such efforts to travel to DRC, to meet with officials, to try and convince them of the legitimacy and integrity of the American adoption process, and then to relay the info back to us. For all the ways our government has frustrated us in this process, they have more than made up for it in the way they have handled this. So cheers America. Well, done.
Now, the bad news. Just to catch you up..,the DGM (which is like the Congo's state department) is the agency that issues the exit letter to the Congolese adopted child saying they can take their valid US Visa and their completely vetted US parents and actually leave the country, shut down back in September. This "temporary closure" happened because some officials had heard reports that homosexuals were adopting Congolese children and/or that Americans were abusing the children once back in the states. Now, I can't speak to these specific reports. What I can speak to is that now there are children stuck in their country. Children with families. I heard parents crying on this teleconference today. Their babies are sick and need medical treatment. Or their spouse is stuck in the country because when they thought they could come home with their kids back in September they stayed and waited and waited for their exit letter (all the while bonding with their new child) and now refuse to leave without their babies. That's SIX MONTHS now y'all. So families are split up as one spouse cares for their Congolese child and the other stays in the States working and caring for their other children. I just cannot even imagine.
So, the basic news that they gave us from their trip was this: The DGM won't let anyone tell them what to do and they will re-open when they want to. Which will not be any sooner than SEPTEMBER.
This is definitely NOT the news we wanted to hear. This is NOT what we were hoping for nor what we expected. This news to an already fragile heart right now has sunk me a little deeper into sadness. Josiah needs to be home with us now. At any given moment, I am picturing what he would be doing at that exact moment if he had come home with us. Sam on a tricycle...of course Jose would be riding on the back. Dinner time...always that empty chair that sits there. Of course Jose would probably NOT be sitting in it, but he would definitely be crawling all around it. Everything just seems so incomplete now. This was hard news.
It's so easy to be angry at the DGM. At the Congolese government. At Congolese people as a whole sometimes. It's easy to point fingers and blame certain entities for the languishing of orphans when they could be set in families (and I should also mention that Americans are not the only nation adopting from DRC. Canada, France, Italy, and Belgium adopt more children than Americans do, actually). Mitch and I left for the Congo two weeks ago thinking that we had a good grasp on their history and their present, but as we discovered...we had no idea. We have learned so much more. I have become obsessed with reading anything I can, probably just trying to make sense of the things that we saw and experienced while we were there.
I have to choose to not be angry at them. Because we just don't know what it has been like or continues to be like for them. I have had people say to me (mostly from people who have been to Uganda or Ethiopia or other fairly settled countries) as I explain the Congo, "oh yeah, Africa, it's so crazy there." But y'all. It's so beyond that. My heart physically hurts as I read and know more. Like why the hell don't we know about this? Why don't we know that in some ways, the American government is responsible for this?
Did you know that the DRC is the POOREST country in the world? That it holds the title of MOST DANGEROUS COUNTRY FOR WOMEN? That the WORST WAR SINCE WWII took place in Congo? That it is the MOST CORRUPT COUNTRY in the world? That it is THE RAPE CAPITAL?
Are you kidding me? If you care at all about Jose's country or better yet, if you care at all about humanity and hurting people, I encourage you to read THIS ARTICLE. It gives the best overview of the history of violence and oppression in DRC and also doesn't gloss over the fact that the West played a pretty vital role in that.
So, as much as I hate this. As much as I want to find someone to hate and cuss about, I can't let myself find the scapegoat in the Congolese government and people. From where I sit, in my cushy American house, these people are doing the best they can. They may hate American adoption, and they may not be able to care for their orphans themselves and that may confuse the hell out of me, but being angry and hateful makes me not be able to hurt for them. And I do. And you should too.
I have had some thoughts recently that what I had hoped from the beginning that our adoption story would maybe inspire someone someday to adopt internationally (because let me remind you again the need is REAL. And these babies are REAL.) has more realistically driven people to RUN away from international adoption. Even the people who have a HUGE heart for adoption have said to me "yeah, that's crazy. And there are kids here. So we choose adoption through foster care". And let me tell you, I would probably have too if I had witnessed this as a bystander.
But, I am still praying. I am still hopeful that someone out there will choose to fight for these kids. For just ONE kid SOMEwhere. Even if it's a three year PAINFUL journey like ours. And that you have to sacrifice and scrape and fundraise to make it happen. Because in all the ways I have doubted this journey we are on, I am more confident than ever that we were called to international adoption and that we are called to advocate for the international orphan.
So, we will keep fighting for our ONE kid SOMEwhere. Because he matters. And we love him. And my heart hurts thinking we will probably not get to celebrate his birthday with him AGAIN.
But, God showed me this verse this week in my quiet time, and I have decided it's my new life motto. I may even get it tattooed somewhere.
It's the story of David handing over the building of the temple to Solomon. David says to him "Take this seriously. The Lord has chosen you. So be strong, and do the work."
BE STRONG AND DO THE WORK. So, I choose to suck it up, choose love and compassion instead of anger, and do the work. The work of loving a kid so far away and getting ready to bring him home some day. Because it WILL happen.
David ends his speech to Solomon by saying, "Don't be discouraged by the size of the task, for the Lord, my God is with you. He will not leave you or forsake you." What a gift this was to read this this week and have it so engraved on my heart before today.
Friday, March 21, 2014
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
Our trip
This blog post is long. And it might be too much detail for most of you. But I tried in my mind to boil this trip down to just a few main points, and it was just too hard. There are too many times God protected us and guided us and allowed us to fall totally in love with this kid and it's worth sharing.
So, if you get bored and give up, I won't blame you. But if you make it through this crazy story there is a little gift for you in the end….a video of the cutest kid ever.
Day 1:
We traveled to Atlanta only to arrive late because of rain and ran, RAN, to our next gate for our connection to Paris only to arrive completely out of breath and too late. We were sent to the help desk where we waited for someone to fix this gigantic problem. I was beyond frustrated. Knowing that each missed connection meant longer until we got there. I may have cried a little. I also may have wanted to yell at someone until they fixed our problem. But obviously that would not have helped (we saw many people doing this and no, it did not get them to their destination any faster). God matched us up with this precious and fire-y French woman who worked and worked to make it right. It did mean we had to stay in Atlanta overnight with no luggage. And it did mean the only flight we could make was a 16 hour one to Johannesburg where we didn't even have seats together. But, they extended our trip on the other end so we ended up with more time in Kinshasa than we would have to begin with. Grateful.
Day 2:
Still traveling. Not really sure what time it is or what time zone we are in, we arrive in South Africa for a short layover before flying to Kinshasa. Trouble with our boarding passes. More time spent in line trying to fix the problem.
We finally board the plane for Kinshasa. I prayed and read Psalm 91 the entire time. I was beyond nervous about arriving in the DRC. We knew that coming into the country with our travel visas could be tricky and we knew just enough about the security/police force there to make us feel uncomfortable. This turned out to be completely justified.
The Kinshasa airport is tiny and old. We got off the plane on the tarmac and walked to the passport entry area. Somehow we ended up last in line. And of course we are pretty easily identifiable as Americans, so without going into too much detail, there were lots of dirty looks, some bribes requested, guards following us, and people scamming us. Welcome to KINSHASA! :) God, once again, proved faithful and put a local girl who was traveling as well there to help us. She interpreted for us, she stood up to them for us and she stayed with us until our driver came to pick us up. (Did I mention this was all happening around midnight which made it seem so much more dramatic?)
Deep breath as we crawled into the car with the driver and our attorney. And then the driving began. No more deep breaths. When you picture crazy driving, you probably picture Mexico. Mexico doesn't hold a candle to this. Trust me. Swerving, honking, people crossing the boulevard and no one even slows down, people hanging out of vans, sitting on top of vans, smashed inside the vans. It was amazing and scary at the same time.
We finally arrived at the guest house and tried to get a good nights sleep knowing we were meeting J the next day.
Day 3:
We had asked for J's foster mom to come as well as an interpreter so we could talk with her and they arrived mid morning. She had dressed him in his nicest clothes and he came walking up like he was supposed to be there all along. What a crazy moment it was to see in person the boy you have been praying for and loved for three years. There he was...those eyes, lips, little bow-legs we had only seen in pictures. And he didn't know who the heck we were. We were honestly, probably the first white people he had ever seen. It didn't seem to matter that much to him though.
We were able to chat with Mama Miss for a few hours as well as walk to the store across the street so she could show us what he liked to eat (which we found out was EVERYTHING). She told us how strong, brave, and friendly he was. And also warned us that he breaks EVERYTHING. You could tell she loved him. (But you could also tell she was ready for a break!)
Then they left. The attorneys, the interpreter, the foster mama. It was just us and him. Mama Miss had right away told him we were Mama and Papa and he called us that from the first minute. How sweet it was to hear that from his mouth. He was confused at first, for sure. I know from reading tons about adoptive children, that easy attachment is not necessarily a good thing, if they attach super quick to you it means they can attach super quick to anyone. He didn't do that. He was friendly but guarded. He cried when Mama Miss left but we were able to comfort him and distract him. It's amazing how much bonding can be had over a tiny ball or a puzzle.
Day 4-6:
We spent the majority of our time just playing. Reading books, wandering around in the courtyard at the guest house, frantically searching the French dictionary to figure out what he was saying, only to realize that he was saying it in Lingala instead. We taught him some English words, like eyes, nose, mouth, yucky, and NO. We quickly discovered he had probably not been told "No" that much in his life.
The excitement of being with him was soon met with the reality that this is a TODDLER. And an ACTIVE toddler at that. We haven't had a toddler in a few years and had to remind ourselves quickly how different that is! But he was so easy to teach and love. He was full of life and never stopped moving and dancing. We also discovered that we are pretty sure he is older than they guessed. The size 6 shoes I brought for him didn't begin to fit and some of the clothes I brought for an 18-24 month old didn't either. He has great gross and fine-motor skills and lots of vocabulary (even if we didn't know most of it).
He was amazing. We saw how undeniably perfect he fits into our family. He imitates everything (perfect for big brothers) and wants to be with you and hold your hand (perfect for big sister). He will bring such life and joy to our house (and he will probably break a bunch of stuff too).
We soaked up every second. Playing, napping, eating, chasing lizards and balls, showering (he had never done that before...only sponge baths), and sleeping and cuddling. While a little guarded the first day, we saw him warm up and giggle and laugh and love us back. You could tell he doesn't get attention and interaction like that. We know Mama Miss loves him and cares for him, but culture-wise, all the interaction and attention we gave him was new to him. Mitch made the observation that it was almost like he didn't know how to just flat out giggle. Like pee your pants giggle. Mitch made sure to tickle and flip and throw him a ton to break him in. And by the end, we heard some real belly laughs.
We left the guest house just a few times. We drove out to a chimpanzee preserve way out of town and saw a lot of life in Kinshasa. It was crazy. Beyond what I could have ever thought. The people are beautiful and busy. They work hard and have little. The people of the Congo have been through SO.MUCH. Like it blows my mind how, since the days of Belgium colonization, their lives have been filled with violence and oppression. This has affected their culture, their attitude towards westerners, their family structures, their safety. It has affected everything.
I have to be honest and tell you that because of extremely false information spread by a select few in DRC, the idea of Americans adopting Congolese is not hugely popular. (there was a rumor that adoptive Americans were selling babies for their organs. What.) This made me feel constantly watched and fairly uncomfortable. But there was never once that I doubted our calling to Josiah there. The need in DRC is unimaginable. Hundreds of kids are abandoned and orphaned constantly. The orphanages have no support, so most kids end up on the street. There is little being done to help families stay together. Mostly because the government structure is weak and most western countries' churches are too fearful to serve in missions there. Local fostering doesn't happen without adoptive support. And most families are already caring for other additional children. So the need was never in question, but we did have to choose to be sensitive and thoughtful about our actions while we were there (which meant we didn't parade around town while holding Josiah).
We were able to spend a lot of time with our interpreter, Billy, who consequently became our friend. He shared a lot of insight with us about this country that he loved so much. These people are hungry for the gospel. They are hungry for their country to be more than it is or has been. We met Billy's brother who is a pastor at a tiny urban church (which he built with his own two hands). They are eager and in need of ministry partners and we were so happy God led us to this relationship. We know God ordained this friendship and opened our eyes to this for a reason. We pray that we are faithful to the things God laid before us and that more people will be led to Jesus as a result.
Day 7:
This is the day we had to hand Josiah back over. Wait. Have I mentioned that his name there is Jose? Not like the Spanish Jose (Hose-ay) but the French Jose (Jo-say). Which we loved and called him the whole time we were there.
I dreaded this moment. I actually laid awake the night before and bawled my eyes out fearing this moment. We knew what we were getting into. We knew this is how it would end. But it was still hard. I held it together pretty well and he was happy to see Mama Miss and also to get to ride in a car (also something he doesn't do very often). He waved and they drove off.
We know this isn't the last time we will see him. We know that he is OURS and we will be able to bring him home at some point. But the waiting. Ugh. Now the waiting seems so much harder.
We were able to spend a good amount of time with our attorney discussing our case and the Embassy investigation. While we were there, a delegation from the US Department of State came to Kinshasa and visited with DRC officials to figure out how to solve the problems. Our attorney was confident that the issue will be resolved and had good insights into our case as well. We felt like our questions were answered and our issues were put to rest.
There is not much that we can do on our end. We will continue to communicate with the Embassy and nudge our case forward. We will pray for the delegation from the DRC that will be traveling to the US next week to visit DRC adoptive families. We pray they will be convinced that these kids are happy and healthy (with ALL their organs) here with their new families and will lift the suspension on Exit Letters within the month.
The time was short there so we were urged by our agency the day before we left to wait until our next trip to visit the orphanage. I was sad we weren't going to get the chance to deliver all the small gifts everyone had donated, but knew she was probably right. Our time was limited and the reason we were going this time was just to meet and bond with J. We still have them and will definitely be visiting on our next trip. Thank you for your hearts for those orphans. The cars and crayons and stuffed animals will make a trip to Africa, I promise.
Coming home was a whirlwind of more airport problems and long and delayed flights. But, it hit me hard once we were finally home that our house now feels a little empty. It's definitely missing a lively 2 year old little boy.
I am so confident in the decision we made to travel and visit Josiah. I know there were some who questioned our reasoning a little bit, and I understand. I probably would too. But, we have zero regrets. We left a photo book of us and the kids with J as well as a recordable story book and the other toys we played with while we were together. This kid is smart. He will remember us, I'm sure of it.
So, if you're still reading, thank you. I hope that wasn't a waste of your time. Thank you for praying for us. God shook my world a little bit (maybe a lot) and it was comforting knowing we weren't really alone.
Now, enjoy a minute of the pure delight we got to experience for 5 days
So, if you get bored and give up, I won't blame you. But if you make it through this crazy story there is a little gift for you in the end….a video of the cutest kid ever.
Day 1:
We traveled to Atlanta only to arrive late because of rain and ran, RAN, to our next gate for our connection to Paris only to arrive completely out of breath and too late. We were sent to the help desk where we waited for someone to fix this gigantic problem. I was beyond frustrated. Knowing that each missed connection meant longer until we got there. I may have cried a little. I also may have wanted to yell at someone until they fixed our problem. But obviously that would not have helped (we saw many people doing this and no, it did not get them to their destination any faster). God matched us up with this precious and fire-y French woman who worked and worked to make it right. It did mean we had to stay in Atlanta overnight with no luggage. And it did mean the only flight we could make was a 16 hour one to Johannesburg where we didn't even have seats together. But, they extended our trip on the other end so we ended up with more time in Kinshasa than we would have to begin with. Grateful.
Day 2:
Still traveling. Not really sure what time it is or what time zone we are in, we arrive in South Africa for a short layover before flying to Kinshasa. Trouble with our boarding passes. More time spent in line trying to fix the problem.
We finally board the plane for Kinshasa. I prayed and read Psalm 91 the entire time. I was beyond nervous about arriving in the DRC. We knew that coming into the country with our travel visas could be tricky and we knew just enough about the security/police force there to make us feel uncomfortable. This turned out to be completely justified.
The Kinshasa airport is tiny and old. We got off the plane on the tarmac and walked to the passport entry area. Somehow we ended up last in line. And of course we are pretty easily identifiable as Americans, so without going into too much detail, there were lots of dirty looks, some bribes requested, guards following us, and people scamming us. Welcome to KINSHASA! :) God, once again, proved faithful and put a local girl who was traveling as well there to help us. She interpreted for us, she stood up to them for us and she stayed with us until our driver came to pick us up. (Did I mention this was all happening around midnight which made it seem so much more dramatic?)
Deep breath as we crawled into the car with the driver and our attorney. And then the driving began. No more deep breaths. When you picture crazy driving, you probably picture Mexico. Mexico doesn't hold a candle to this. Trust me. Swerving, honking, people crossing the boulevard and no one even slows down, people hanging out of vans, sitting on top of vans, smashed inside the vans. It was amazing and scary at the same time.
We finally arrived at the guest house and tried to get a good nights sleep knowing we were meeting J the next day.
Day 3:
We had asked for J's foster mom to come as well as an interpreter so we could talk with her and they arrived mid morning. She had dressed him in his nicest clothes and he came walking up like he was supposed to be there all along. What a crazy moment it was to see in person the boy you have been praying for and loved for three years. There he was...those eyes, lips, little bow-legs we had only seen in pictures. And he didn't know who the heck we were. We were honestly, probably the first white people he had ever seen. It didn't seem to matter that much to him though.
We were able to chat with Mama Miss for a few hours as well as walk to the store across the street so she could show us what he liked to eat (which we found out was EVERYTHING). She told us how strong, brave, and friendly he was. And also warned us that he breaks EVERYTHING. You could tell she loved him. (But you could also tell she was ready for a break!)
Then they left. The attorneys, the interpreter, the foster mama. It was just us and him. Mama Miss had right away told him we were Mama and Papa and he called us that from the first minute. How sweet it was to hear that from his mouth. He was confused at first, for sure. I know from reading tons about adoptive children, that easy attachment is not necessarily a good thing, if they attach super quick to you it means they can attach super quick to anyone. He didn't do that. He was friendly but guarded. He cried when Mama Miss left but we were able to comfort him and distract him. It's amazing how much bonding can be had over a tiny ball or a puzzle.
Day 4-6:
We spent the majority of our time just playing. Reading books, wandering around in the courtyard at the guest house, frantically searching the French dictionary to figure out what he was saying, only to realize that he was saying it in Lingala instead. We taught him some English words, like eyes, nose, mouth, yucky, and NO. We quickly discovered he had probably not been told "No" that much in his life.
The excitement of being with him was soon met with the reality that this is a TODDLER. And an ACTIVE toddler at that. We haven't had a toddler in a few years and had to remind ourselves quickly how different that is! But he was so easy to teach and love. He was full of life and never stopped moving and dancing. We also discovered that we are pretty sure he is older than they guessed. The size 6 shoes I brought for him didn't begin to fit and some of the clothes I brought for an 18-24 month old didn't either. He has great gross and fine-motor skills and lots of vocabulary (even if we didn't know most of it).
 |
| First day...wasn't so sure about us. |
He was amazing. We saw how undeniably perfect he fits into our family. He imitates everything (perfect for big brothers) and wants to be with you and hold your hand (perfect for big sister). He will bring such life and joy to our house (and he will probably break a bunch of stuff too).
 |
We left the guest house just a few times. We drove out to a chimpanzee preserve way out of town and saw a lot of life in Kinshasa. It was crazy. Beyond what I could have ever thought. The people are beautiful and busy. They work hard and have little. The people of the Congo have been through SO.MUCH. Like it blows my mind how, since the days of Belgium colonization, their lives have been filled with violence and oppression. This has affected their culture, their attitude towards westerners, their family structures, their safety. It has affected everything.
I have to be honest and tell you that because of extremely false information spread by a select few in DRC, the idea of Americans adopting Congolese is not hugely popular. (there was a rumor that adoptive Americans were selling babies for their organs. What.) This made me feel constantly watched and fairly uncomfortable. But there was never once that I doubted our calling to Josiah there. The need in DRC is unimaginable. Hundreds of kids are abandoned and orphaned constantly. The orphanages have no support, so most kids end up on the street. There is little being done to help families stay together. Mostly because the government structure is weak and most western countries' churches are too fearful to serve in missions there. Local fostering doesn't happen without adoptive support. And most families are already caring for other additional children. So the need was never in question, but we did have to choose to be sensitive and thoughtful about our actions while we were there (which meant we didn't parade around town while holding Josiah).
We were able to spend a lot of time with our interpreter, Billy, who consequently became our friend. He shared a lot of insight with us about this country that he loved so much. These people are hungry for the gospel. They are hungry for their country to be more than it is or has been. We met Billy's brother who is a pastor at a tiny urban church (which he built with his own two hands). They are eager and in need of ministry partners and we were so happy God led us to this relationship. We know God ordained this friendship and opened our eyes to this for a reason. We pray that we are faithful to the things God laid before us and that more people will be led to Jesus as a result.
Day 7:
This is the day we had to hand Josiah back over. Wait. Have I mentioned that his name there is Jose? Not like the Spanish Jose (Hose-ay) but the French Jose (Jo-say). Which we loved and called him the whole time we were there.
I dreaded this moment. I actually laid awake the night before and bawled my eyes out fearing this moment. We knew what we were getting into. We knew this is how it would end. But it was still hard. I held it together pretty well and he was happy to see Mama Miss and also to get to ride in a car (also something he doesn't do very often). He waved and they drove off.
We know this isn't the last time we will see him. We know that he is OURS and we will be able to bring him home at some point. But the waiting. Ugh. Now the waiting seems so much harder.
We were able to spend a good amount of time with our attorney discussing our case and the Embassy investigation. While we were there, a delegation from the US Department of State came to Kinshasa and visited with DRC officials to figure out how to solve the problems. Our attorney was confident that the issue will be resolved and had good insights into our case as well. We felt like our questions were answered and our issues were put to rest.
There is not much that we can do on our end. We will continue to communicate with the Embassy and nudge our case forward. We will pray for the delegation from the DRC that will be traveling to the US next week to visit DRC adoptive families. We pray they will be convinced that these kids are happy and healthy (with ALL their organs) here with their new families and will lift the suspension on Exit Letters within the month.
The time was short there so we were urged by our agency the day before we left to wait until our next trip to visit the orphanage. I was sad we weren't going to get the chance to deliver all the small gifts everyone had donated, but knew she was probably right. Our time was limited and the reason we were going this time was just to meet and bond with J. We still have them and will definitely be visiting on our next trip. Thank you for your hearts for those orphans. The cars and crayons and stuffed animals will make a trip to Africa, I promise.
Coming home was a whirlwind of more airport problems and long and delayed flights. But, it hit me hard once we were finally home that our house now feels a little empty. It's definitely missing a lively 2 year old little boy.
I am so confident in the decision we made to travel and visit Josiah. I know there were some who questioned our reasoning a little bit, and I understand. I probably would too. But, we have zero regrets. We left a photo book of us and the kids with J as well as a recordable story book and the other toys we played with while we were together. This kid is smart. He will remember us, I'm sure of it.
So, if you're still reading, thank you. I hope that wasn't a waste of your time. Thank you for praying for us. God shook my world a little bit (maybe a lot) and it was comforting knowing we weren't really alone.
Now, enjoy a minute of the pure delight we got to experience for 5 days
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