Dear Justin, On The Occasion of Your Third Anniversary Home

 

Dear Justin,

I remember Freshman orientation for high school. We were all packed into the bleachers in the gym. There must have been a hundred of us. We got introduced to the Principal, the Counselors, and the Teachers. Blah, blah, blah. I didn't like school very much. I wanted to be anywhere but Orientation. I'm sure that somewhere, there was a comic book calling my name. I needed to race home, and check the red phone. Somebody there said, "Make the most of your four years here, because before you know it, it'll be over." I snickered. Yeah, right. High school is gonna drag on like Orientation.  The next day, I was wearing a cap and gown at graduation. As I accepted my diploma, I remembered those words.

The only real lesson I learned from high school is to make the most of every minute. You might think that's Carpe Diem. "Seize the day". I think it's not only seize the day - or jump at the opportunity - but "be in the moment." Savor every second. Now, I'm not a very patient person, but I look at this as settle in and get comfortable. That might have come in handy had I learned that lesson while I was still in high school. I wasn't sure what your Mom and I were getting into when we agreed to spend a week together. But I knew I wanted to meet you. I knew I wanted to know what would happen next.

 

I've never been a fan of roller coasters. Probably because of my experience on The Demon at Six Flags. The summer The Demon opened, my buddy Derrick and I went on it. We were standing in line alongside the ride as they pulled a woman off and set her in a wheelchair and rolled her away. She looked pale and dizzy. My buddy Derrick said the color drained out of my face and I stopped talking completely until after we got off the ride. He said I turned white as a sheet.

 



Buddy-boy, you have been the greatest roller coaster ride in the history of roller coaster rides. I don't mind getting whipped around in all the twists and turns, the ups and downs. Okay, so I tend to scream like a little girl a lot - but, you, my "little buddy", are keeping me on my toes. You, your brother Ethan, and your sister Bella. As bumpy and rocky as the valleys are the hills are pretty thrilling and exciting. Probably a better way to describe them is...breathtaking.

You are incredibly challenging. I know that you feel the same sense of accomplishment that Mom and I do at rising and meeting the challenge. You have come so far - and not just geographically - and accomplished so much in such a short amount of time. Mom and I are so proud of you. It is so great meeting your teachers and listening to them say the same things about you. They are just as glad to have you around, just as glad that you are part of their world as we are.

There are a lot of people that think you're pretty cool.

I don't want you to get a swelled head - you do pretty good on your own, without Mom's and my help - or any of your teachers' help, either. I just don't want a minute to go by without you, or Ethan or Bells knowing how much we love you.

The boy who came to stay

Happy anniversary!

Popi   

   

  

 

Patience and Faith

Dave sez, If our journey here to Kiev - three times - has been about any thing, it has been about developing patience and building faith. Oh, and adopting three children, two sons and now, finally, a daughter.

"...Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see...And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him." (Hebrews 11: 1, 6)

We are here in Kiev a third time. What is the difference between this third trip and the two previous trips? Not much. We see the effects months and months of protesting has had on the city. There is a side of this city that is permanently scarred from anger. But it seems like only half. The other half still functions. The two seem to co-exist side-by-side right now. It is hard to see if the wound is healing, or ever will.

 

From Independence Square, where there is still an Occupy-style encampment, across to the burned out Exchange building, we see that the angry scar has gone up the street to Parliament, and the cathedral next to it. We saw that yesterday.

 

  



Cathy and I have to compliment our facilitator Valentin. He is working very hard to make progress with our process and schedule our court date. Cathy and I would ask all of our "prayer warriors" to lift him, the SDA and the DFC up in prayer that the consent is signed as soon as possible - Monday - and that our court date is scheduled for TUESDAY. Cathy and I really need to have our court date scheduled for TUESDAY. Valentin had told us on Tuesday that consent forms had not been signed for close to three weeks. He has been working tirelessly and valiantly to move things along. He reminded them that we had been here twice before and we adopted two sons. He also reminded them that we were a Christian, God-fearing family.

Yesterday, we had just gotten to the orphanage for our visit with Masha. The phone rang. It was Valentin. He said he needed a brief description for the SDA and DFC about our church. What type of church it was that we go to and what type of church it was that Masha would be attending when she comes home. He asked if I could write something up and e-mail it to him.

"Where are you?" He asked.

I do a pretty decent impression of Nervous Ross...

I said, "Uh...uh...we're here at the orphanage, with Masha."

Perfect, he told me. I could use the computer there to write something up and send it to him. He called Igor to explain, I called Igor to explain. Igor called me back and asked where we were.

"Uh...uh...we're here at the orphanage, with Masha."

He cleared up my confusion by asking, where I actually was. He told me that he would explain everything to Neela in the office and that everything would be fine.

Valentin called me back and together we pieced a few sentences about our Faith a church. Then I handed the phone over to Neela and he dictated/translated to her. She typed it up and we signed it.

Next, we had to get this document to the SDA office before 1pm. That is when most government offices close for lunch for one hour. It was 11:30. So, we had to move.

We just made the 507 at the bus stop; which got us to Holosiivska station and back to Maidan by 12:25. That gave us a little over thirty-five minutes to make it up the hill from Independence Square and past Parliament to the SDA office. Walking up the hill we noticed that a lot of the restaurants we had frequented on the last two trips were closed and gone out of business. The Double Coffee had a "напрокат" banner in the window. There was a Russian restaurant where we had enjoyed a great dish of both Russian Salad and Chicken Kiev, that was closed now, too. The scar had climbed up the hill from the Square to the cathedral next to Parliament where there were more tents. 

We made it to the SDA by a quarter to one. We called Valentin so that he would let someone know that we were there with the document. He had been called into a court session, so we called Igor to call Valentin to call someone to let them know we were there with the document. Valentin called us back and let us know that he would be calling a woman with the SDA named Helen, who would come out and take the document from us. She did. She said, "Thank you," in English to us.

We got a call this morning from Valentin that it was possible that the consent to adopt would be signed off on Monday, and that our court date could be scheduled for either TUESDAY or Wednesday. He would keep us informed.

If our journey has been about any thing, it has been about developing patience and building faith.

"...I waited patiently for the Lord; He turned to me and heard my cry." (Ps. 40: 1)