Strap yourselves in…here we go for some long overdue posts. First, the storm.

I got another nasty-o-gram in my comments box after I blogged about the tornado. In case you missed it, it said.

“We almost died? How about pay homage to the family in Colona who lost a child and has 2 seriously injured in the STORM NOT a tornado as you have previously stated. A little overdramatic, you think?”

Anyone else think anonymously commented negatively on a blog just seems a bit silly? Alas I must be honest with my gets-their-jollies-from-anonymous-blog-commenting…he/she is right in that the weather people did say it was a STORM (I liked how you used all caps, my new friend) not a TORNADO. However, 100mph winds, whether from a funnel cloud or not, creates the same devastation. It was a storm that masked itself as a tornado. But here are the pictures I promised. Overdramatic, possibly, seeings we obviously did not perish (and please, don’t pretend to know how much the Colona family haunts or does not haunt my reality dearest stranger, it just makes you sound ignorant). But here are pictures, though it might not be as telling of a picture for those of you that did not see camp before, it will certainly for those who had.

I apologize in advance for being an ass, but being an ass begets being an ass so there you have it.

Tree that fell too close to the window Dailah sleeps under.

One of the coolest parts of the morning was finally reaching the point where cars could get into camp and seeing this. A dozen or so cars who came within a few hours to help clean up the mess. God’s grace is bountiful.

This tree damaged the machine shed and landed where the horses roamed, amazingly enough, no horse was injured in the STORM.

Our front yard which now houses a large tree. Most of our lawn ornaments (i.e. kids’ toys) were thrown amidst this downed tree.

One shot of our house through the rubble.

Another shot of the house and neighboring trees. Dramatic or not, try telling me that tree couldn’t have created large scale devastation in our small family.

Just a big arse tree that couldn’t withstand the STORM.

The only way in or out of camp.

Last tree before breaking into the relative calmness where all the cars were (and, in this case, where my mom-in-law Terre had parked to help us with our Exodus from the house).

Terre in the middle of the above tree breaking the heavy silence with the quip, “Does this tree make my butt look small?” (Just ask why I love that woman? Not only does she use humor in the face of sadness, as I do as well, but she’s carrying her weight on her back to get us out in one load.)

Just to show how big the tree is, that, had it fallen the opposite way, could’ve landed on the house…that is a man attempting to cut it down with a saw.

So we’re still in the dark, with no water or electricity we’ve been lodging at my parents-in-law since Monday morning. We’ve actually had a lot of fun and Trysten even announced to my nephew, “I live here now.”

We went back to camp this morning for the first time since the storm to get a few necessities (like undies for the boys, seriously, when do boys ever stop putting poo runs in their undies? It makes it VERY hard to reuse even in times of crisis) and get our car finally. It still looks like a disaster area. It really is heartbreaking. Zach and I were talking this morning and I said something and he said, “Tesi, you do realize WE almost died.” Though that’s perhaps a very slight exaggeration, I can’t help but thank God we did, in fact, live to tell the tale.

And on another note, we are without an arm cast here! Tariku has been cast-less for 1 hour now and he couldn’t be more excited. I cannot believe how bad his arm stinks. In the car I kept asking what that smell was until I used the sniffer to sniff directly to the moldy, tiny, white/black arm. Poor guy. A good soakin’ should do the trick. He still holds it like he’s got a cast on it but other than that, he’s happy as a clam.

Did I tell you the great news yet? MY SISTER IS MOVING TO DAVENPORT!!! So today we’re heading house hunting for her. It should be a lot of fun spending someone else’s money on a mortgage. Good thing she trusts me!

Off to get a shower. Those are hard to come by in a life like mine!

P.S. I’ll write about our first orphan ministry project next, I had to head home to get a few of my notes. Stay tuned!

So a tornado hit camp. We are alive and well, thanks in full part to the big man upstairs. We are staying at my in-laws as our power and water are off and will be for, reportedly, 2-3 days. There are trees fallen all over and somehow, the trees fell AWAY from all of the buildings. 80 kids, 20ish counselors and one 5 person family okay. 1 chocolate lab rattled but safe. We are blessed.

So something exciting happened to me today…Jody, another woman from church and I “unofficially” launched an “orphan ministry” at church today. So many quotation marks, such a small sentence, I know. It’s unofficial because it’s organic, it’s a brainchild of us, it’s without knowledge or consent from the church leaders. “Orphan ministry” because it doesn’t have an official name but at it’s best that’s what it will look like, a group of people ministering to orphans.

Jody and I had started this ragamuffin group of fellow adoptive/foster parent people many months ago as a place to 1) get support for the process and 2) minister to orphans. For better or worse we dropped the second and dwelled, perhaps too much, on the first. I was getting too frustrated with that as, you’ll notice from my blogs, I’m no longer okay with the plight of the orphans just because I brought one home. I’ve been submerged in Grace and I want to submerge the people who God holds near and dear.

Which brings me to…did you know God mentions the orphans, widows and strangers 60 times in the Bible. Wowsa. God is described as, “A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, Is God in His holy habitation. God sets the solitary in families; He brings out those who are bound into prosperity. ” Psalm 68: 5-6

So our “orphan ministry” has a “mission statement” (now I’m just getting carried away) of sorts. It’s James 1:27: “Pure and faultless religion is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress…”

You know what’s disturbing? I just came across this statistic. There are more than 70 million orphans in the world. At least 35,000 children under the age of five die every day as a result of malnutrition or starvation, and there are at least one million children currently suffering under the oppression of forced prostitution. At least 100 million children are involved in child labor, and 1.5 million children are currently infected with AIDS.

What’s MORE disturbing? “A 2001 Barna Research Group poll revealed that evangelical Christians are less likely than are non-Christians to give money and assistance to AIDS-related causes. Only 3% of evangelicals say they plan to help with AIDS internationally as opposed to 8% of non-Christians. This is only one example of how Christians have let down in their love for the unlovely.” Fields of the Fatherles, C. Thomas Davis.

Not one of those people stirred by statistics? How about this:

He was one of those statistics 4 months ago.

So was he.

And of course she did not know the words for mother or father but now not only knows the words, but the feeling, and the smell and the comfort of those powerful words.

I am so excited about this. My personality has always been what some might call “strong” when I get an itch…it’s tough to get it scratched and I hesitate to even slow down. But I know God’s timing is perfect and I pray we can reach even just one child, whether one across the world or here at home who did not know love but will find it in God’s eternal Grace.

Stay tuned for my next post on what our first “activity” (I just haad to) will be and how you can help!

WE CUT MY DAUGHTER’S HAIR FOR THE FIRST TIME!!!!!! Yikes! It all started because I wanted a hair clipping of her baby hair before it became like her mommy’s; all thick and course and not cute. So we thought we’d just even it out. Went to JCPenney’s. And it looks so stinkin cute. She looks so old! She was so funny, since it was past her naptime we thought she’d show her attitudema but she just sat on her chair like she’s done it 20 times. She was so proud of herself and her little throne. I’m fairly certain if we would’ve asked them to do a quick manicure at the same time she would’ve appreciated it. Here she is. Tell me this isn’t the cutest face you’ve seen.

Dailah in her pre-cut timeout. This is not looking promising…

First time in the chair…”I think I could get used to this.”

Hair ready for stages. “Daddy, why are you and mom so giddy? I’m used to this kind of treatment.”

Almost done. “Daddy, am I still your princess?”

Complete perfection. “All done!” (That’s Doozie’s new favorite phrase.)

And I never did shed an actual tear, just got dangerously close a few times.

I seriously love being a mom. Sometimes I can’t believe it myself. I’ll be the first to admit I was skeptical of the whole thing but 6 short years ago. Then it was thrown on me unexpectedly (but what a blessing!) and I haven’t looked back since.

Sure, I like those few hours when the grandparents take them to movies or to other fun adventures and I get a few clear headed minutes and big deep breaths. Sure, we uphold a strict 7pm bedtime whether they need it or not so Zach and I can get some time hanging out with each other without the constant hum of children.

But I do love this whole thing.

Dailah is about to turn 2 (the 26th). Can’t believe this. I still think of her as a baby, which she uses to her advantage at every turn. Hard for me to believe when Trysten was this age we were starting to think about having another one. The girl is still in diapers and is still small enough to carry for goodness sakes! 🙂

It could also be that we’ve already added to our family since she’s been with us and though Tariku is not a baby, it’s still a welcomed addition so that could be why.

Nothing earth shattering today. I just saw them walk out of the office with Trysten first, Tariku next and Dailah following behind and I had to pinch myself to make sure I was this lucky. Seriously, they are such great kids despite having a mommy like me.

Doozie and her boyfriend, Zeke. I have a feeling her taking the wheel of the car will be a theme in her life.

Here are the kids at Jody’s. Silas of the Bottomly fame were in town. He was adopted from Ethiopia as a wee baby a few months back. Good to talk to his mommy, Amy, about their process as well as spend some QT with the Landers.

The kids LOVE this at the lakehouse, who can blame them?

Trysten holding his second cousin, Alleyna. Really, just too cute. He got the idea from Tariku.

Tariku was obsessed with the babies. Had a hoot of a time feeding this cute gal.

Went to 2 weddings last weekend. Done for awhile. 🙂 Grandma and her boys.

The kids were delirious after a long day of “I dos” so sugar was really the only thing that worked. I’ve never been above bribery.

One of my best friends from grade school was at the wedding, so great to catch up for awhile with her.

Tariku getting his cast off. I think he’s cussing at the guy in Amharic. Bit freaked out about the whole saw bit but who can blame him?

Tariku and Doozie playing with Tariku’s new cast. (only 2 more weeks!)

Yay photos!

Ethiopia. I can’t do it.

Last night I was up until 12:30am (a huge feat for someone who wrestles to make it until 10 most nights) just thinking about things. I had just read an article about Doctors Without Borders setting up a site in Tariku’s hometown in Ethiopia. I was thrilled to hear it but saddened at the same time. If they actually had to set up shop there then things are even worse than I had thought. Check out my friend Rebekah’s post on Plumpy’nut, good reads. (She’s of the “All to Love” fame on the sidebar).

So within about 4 hours I had decided I was a) going to become a doctor just so I could join DWB or b) sell everything in the house on ebay to pay for a trip to Ethiopia to volunteer with someone changing lives over there. After a talk down from my enthusiastic (ahem) husband, I recovered.

It’s interesting, as the commenter from the previous post noted (thanks!), there are MILLIONS of ways to be the hands and feet of Jesus in this world. Zach asked me why I don’t go volunteer at homeless shelters in the area or battered woman’s shelters. It’s a good question, certainly there are lots of places in our community who could use a gal like me. But I honestly don’t believe in coincidences when it comes to my restlessness over Ethiopia. I do believe God speaks to us all differently and He turns some people on to the local communities need and others to Africa or what have you. But it does get a bit overwhelming to try to do it all. I’ve volunteered for many different organizations, served on a few Board of Directors, what have you. I’ve hammered nails for Habitat, done things like that. But none of that has come close to keeping me up at night like this has. God is not whispering to me about this, he’s smashing me in the face with a 2×4. It would certainly be easier (in some respects) and cheaper to be this passionate about the community but I truly believe in a bigger, worldy community and certainly bringing Tariku home has made Ethiopia our home as well.

I read a great book, “The Irresistable Revolution” by Shane Claiborne. Here’s just a few of my many favorite tidbits.

–“Managing poverty is big business. Ending poverty is revolutionary. Too often, the church has chaplained the corporate global economy, caring for the victims of the systems. As long as we uncritically manage the collateral damage of the market economy, the world can continue to produce victims. But as Dietrich Bonhoeffer said during his age of injustice, ‘ We are not to simply bandage the wounds of victims beneath the wheels of injustice, but we are to drive a spoke into the wheel itself.'”

–“Tithes, tax-exempt donations, and short-term mission trips, while they accomplish some good, can also function as outlets that allow us to appease our consciences and still remain a safe distance from the poor.” (This one probably hit a little too close to home if you ask me)

–“I’m convinced that God did not mess up and make too many people and not enough stuff. Poverty was not created by God but by you and me, because we have not learned to love our neighbors as ourselves. Gandhi put it well when he said, ‘There is enough for everyone’s need, but there is not enough for everyone’s greed.'”

–“It is risky, and yet we are people of faith, believing that giving is more contagious than hoarding, that love can convert hatred, light can overcome darkness, grass can pierce concrete.”

–“With new eyes, we can see that our family is both local and global, including but transcending biology, tribe, or nationality, a renewed vision of the kin-dom of God with brothers and sisters in Afghanistan and Iraq, Sudan and Burma, North Philly and Beverly Hills. Any vision short of that is too myopic for Jesus whose own biological family called him crazy for saying things that disrupted traditional family values.”

There really are many more. I try to channel my inner Jesus (she’s tucked WAAAAY down sometimes) in my daily interactions with folks here. I try to be nice to everyone I train or teach, do other things that would just sound silly and miniscule in this blog but things I hope are making a difference nonetheless. It’s the hard stuff. The Ethiopian stuff. The stuff like the fact that I am a world away, that my heart is presently straddling two different nations, that kind of stuff that makes it hard. God has made me very uncomfortable and I know it’s not a coincidence. I have some ideas, all of them making me very uncomfortable but would it be worth it if it weren’t?

Tariku reads my blog. That’s the only reason I can think of that he’s done a 180 and has been an absolute gem (for the most part) these last couple of days. This must be love.

I was thinking the other day how completely aware of EVERYTHING I am with him. Today he and Trysten were playing house (they included Dailah and she was doing her best at channeling her inner mom by screaming, “No TT!” and No 2T!” Don’t know where she gets that from) and I just sat back and watched and listened. Tariku was the daddy and Trysten was the son. Here is a quick recap of the story.

Tariku a.k.a. Daddy who sounds a lot like mommy: “No, brother, in time-out. I say no talking. You talk? Then in time out. No cookie. Brother talk, brother no cookie. What do you say, brother?”

Trysten a.k.a Brother who sounds a lot like an Ethiopian boy learning English: “I sorry, daddy.”

Tariku a.k.a Daddy who makes same facial expressions as mommy: “Give me a kiss. What do you say?”

Brother: “I love you.”

Daddy: “Good, go play.”

2 seconds later…

Daddy (slight exaggeration if you want my personal opinion): “NO, BROTHER! IN TIME OUT NOW!”

And on and on it went. I thought it both sad and hilarious that he considers me the-lady-who-puts-me-in-time-out-every-2-seconds. It leads me to what goes through my head all the time.

How’s attachment going? Tariku is doing remarkably well. Though if I’m being honest with myself I know we’re not there yet. He plays at attachment really well. He likes snuggling, hugging and kissing. BUT, he’ll go to pretty much anyone with his love. He’s a loving dude in general. He likes coming to me when he’s hurt but he’ll also go to any of our extended family if they’re around. He tells me he loves me randomly and I find him looking at me with those huge adoring eyes for no particular reasons. There are definitely signs he’s getting there, but I know he’s not there yet.

Just today I was wondering if I’m actually not further along in my attachment to him. In his short 3 years of life he’s had 3 caregivers now. All 3 of them have treated him like family, and it could be argued I’m probably the least favorable to him at this point as the above reenactment suggests. I’ve truly loved him since November 12th of last year. It has only grown since then and every day it gets easier to call him my son and to laugh at his hilarity and give sporadic kisses. It’s kind of heart breaking for me to realize he could just be playing nice because he thinks this is temporary too and one day he’ll kick this lady with insufficient cooking skills and more than sufficient time out spots. I don’t know, just hard for me.

It’s hard to do the attachment thing for me. It’s hard to force that stuff for me. I’m a touchy feely kinda gal so the hugging and kissing and snuggling, that’s a no brainer for me. But the “time ins” and “re dos” and all of that stuff are just…too…foreign to me. I’m used to giving a time out, putting a load in the laundry, adding a few ingredients to the pot, getting reconicilliation kisses and hugs, folding a few clothes and adding last ingredients to the pot. I have been truly tested in this adoption with my inability to focus on doing one thing (i.e. getting my older child to attach to me) at a time. Anyone else struggle with this? I admit my mind strays too quickly to the, “It’s not like he’s going to be 16 and unattached, I can just parent him like the other 2 and it’ll come.” That’s me, that’s the way I think.

But that’s not necessarily true. I really have to get better at this. But just like I commented before, as if mother guilt is not enough, we throw on attaching. Phew. One of my good friends just birthed a baby, cute little girl. I was in the hospital holding her and my friend’s mom says, “Throw out the guilt, Becky.” Because Becky was starting to sound a bit guilty about putting the baby in the hospital nursery to catch up on some much needed zzzzzzs following 4 hours of pushing. If only it were that easy, right?

I think in my case this guilt is pushing me to try on this whole attachment deal and see how it fits. Sometimes guilt is a good motivator. Sometimes, like tonight, it’s why I’m thankful I have a bottle of wine and internet. What kind of night is it for you?

My new camera came in. Well actually it’s my second new camera, broke the first one in a few days so the replacement came today. Get excited for some sweet pictures.

I’m back to teaching after 4 weeks off and it hurt so good tonight. I have a headache from all the lactic acid…and pizza rolls… that have accumulated over those weeks.

We had a really great time at the lake this weekend. Lots of pictures to come but suffice it to say it was relaxing and beautiful and perfect and you really can’t ask for more. I had to dump Tariku off the tube for him to get over his fear of fish biting him but it worked and we were all a whole lot happier after he stopped crying at the thought of getting wet. 🙂

He gets his cast off tomorrow only to have to put on a new, shorter one. Owell, it’s progress. They’re hopeful he’ll just be in the short (a bit below his wrist) cast for 2 weeks. The kid sweats like what’s her face on Flashdance so I’m sure there will be a bit of mold and/or mildew under that bright orange cast of his. Owell, what can they expect from a 3-year-old who NEVER stops running or moving or talking?

We’re getting along well here. Trysten told a whopper of a lie today so Zach and I were considering punishments. Zach thought perhaps he should take a day off of camp because one of his best friends since 2 is here this week. I considered the thought of all 3 of them with me, at the doctor’s office, while Tariku gets a saw to his arm and thought that it was more a punishment for me than for Trysten. Afterall, Trysten gets to see Tariku writhe in preterm fear, what more could an uuber competitive brother want? So I think I was convincing enough and we might’ve settled on earlier bed times. Plus, he had to miss Wipeout tonight and I think that’s punishment enough. What a great show.

I think that’s all I know right now. Still no real internet out here. Nothing like various networks of people to drag their feet to make my exile from blogland take even longer. If only I could rule the world…

On that note, I just heard and saw a beetle kamakaze into Zach’s office wall, better get out of here before I catch the West Nile. Peace.