dingle, party of 8

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Eight?

Yes, you read that right.

No, this isn’t a belated April Fool’s Day joke.

We started looking into adoption programs a couple months ago, expecting to pursue a country in which the process would be long and hard. We’re not gluttons for punishment, but we know a lot of people opt for the easier countries while orphans sit waiting in the harder ones. I can’t explain it, but we were drawn to the hard places. We figured, why not start now if it will take a while?

Then, we found out about a waiting sibling group through a friend on Facebook.

A group of three in Uganda, ages 2, 4, and 6.

After we talked with the agency and prayed and sought counsel from godly friends, we knew our answer was yes. We knew it was crazy, but we knew we were committed to these beautiful children.

Our beautiful children.

photo credit: rebecca keller photography {she's wonderful!}

See those three additional kiddos in Jocelyn's work of art?

They're our other three children, the ones waiting for us in Africa.

I feel like I should offer some logical or reasoned explanation for why we’re adopting again so soon. But I don’t have one. All I have is this:
Pure and undefiled religion before our God and Father is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself unstained by the world. {James 1:27}
Learn to do good; seek justice, correct oppression; bring justice to the fatherless, plead the widow's cause. {Isaiah 1:17}
I’ll be sharing more details in the coming weeks, like what our next steps are and how we’ll be rearranging bedrooms and when we think we might travel and if we'll be done after this.

For now, though, please pray for us. We aren’t naïve; we know this is huge.

Sweet ones, we love you. Mommy and Daddy are coming.

if you feel like you're on the sidelines

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This morning was as rough as expected, being the first school day after spring break. First, we slept in. Then Jocelyn whined about wanting to stay home to do all the fun things we didn't do during spring break because of the great stomach bug of 2013.

I went through the motions, packing lunch and motivating Jocelyn to get dressed and making juice cups and heating a bottle of milk and changing a diaper. As I loaded the kiddos in the car, I glanced across the street.

The sweet older gentleman, who brought us flowers the day we moved in, lay crumbled and motionless in his driveway.

My heart stung, every muscle engaged to run across the road to help. But another neighbor was already at his side, and he assured me that he had alerted the in-home nurse. As I pulled out of the driveway, I saw the nurse dial 911 on a cordless phone. Lee returned from walking the dog moments later to offer assistance, but the ambulance arrived just after he did.

I knew my role. I needed to be with my kids.

Still, I felt sidelined from the action. 

I continued going through the motions, answering questions like "Is he dead, Mommy?" and "Why do some geckos have to lick their eyes instead of having eyelids?"

We practiced this month's Bible memory passage for the children's church program.

We made afterschool plans, including a promise that we'd go for a long walk in the beautiful spring weather.

The entire time my mind was on the help I wasn't able to provide to our dear neighbor.

 As I dropped Jocelyn off and returned to our neighborhood, I glanced back at the neighbor's now-empty driveway. The water someone sprayed on it didn't wash away the bloodstain.

Instead of feeling remiss that I hadn't been there, though, I realized something:

there are no sidelines


I had been in the action the whole time. While another neighbor and a nurse and my husband and a few EMTs were meant to be caring for that man in his time of need, I was meant to be caring for three darling children in theirs. 

Moms, your action might look different from the action of those EMTs, but it matters. It matters so much.

{thanks to my beautiful friend Tish for letting me share this moment she captured with her son}

When you're going through the motions of caring for your family, what you're doing is valuable. Eternally valuable. 

Why? Because the ones you're teaching and feeding and carpooling and diapering and bandaging, they're valuable. Eternally valuable.
And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up. {Galatians 6:9}

(In case you're wondering, our neighbor was talking, though disoriented, when he left in the ambulance, and the prognosis sounds good for a man his age. Thanks be to God!)

would you pray for us?

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I can't offer details right now, but we're making some big decisions this week. Please join us in praying that God would provide clarity, wisdom, and direction and that we would be faithful to follow where He leads.



And, if you're so inclined, pray that I would manage my time wisely so I can get the Easter letters in the mail by tomorrow.

 {Yep, the ones I had printed for Christmas. Maybe I should have asked for time management prayers a few months ago...}

in which I try not to die

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For those of you following me on Facebook, the title doesn't refer to my tuberculosis exposure. Nope. 

Sure, my positive TB skin test paired with the three days we spent last summer with our sick baby girl in a hospital in Taitung, Taiwan, means I was exposed to the bacteria... but thankfully my chest x-ray was all clear, so I'm waiting for my appointment with the health department, which will launch several months of preventative antibiotics and public health monitoring.

Hi, my name is Shannon, and I'm a walking petri dish.
See the joy on our faces as we sprung Zoe from the hospital? Who knew that I was also busting out a few TB germs? {photo credit: The Archibald Project}

So why the concern that I might die?

Today, my friends, marks Day 1 back in the gym.

We tried having an elliptical in our bedroom. It's still there. Lee loves it, as it works the entire body through voodoo clever design. Me? It messes with my knees.

Plus? When I work out at the house, it feels like a chore. As I juggle the kids, the laundry, and whatever else I'm setting aside for the elliptical or a exercise video, the workout ends up feeling anything but refreshing. Knowing the benefit for my physical and mental well-being, though, it's not an option to opt out of exercise, though.

So I rejoined the gym.

It's the same one we used to go to, with the perk of being down the road from Jocelyn's elementary school. We cancelled because we didn't have time to go in the midst of the move, and then we knew Zoe wouldn't be ready for childcare yet for a while after we brought her home. (Plus our new house payment is higher than the old one, so I needed to have the time to devote to my freelance writing gigs which fund my membership, as well as our adoption fund.)

I'm praying that the childcare staff is the same, because they were fantastic.

Though Zoe will be peeved about being left, no matter how wonderful the staff is. 

 Even if my lungs try to give up on me today, though, the good news is it's just from being in poor shape and not from tuberculosis, right?

The other good news? We'll be returning home from the gym in time for therapy for Zoe... which means someone will realize soon if I don't make it home because I'm passed out on the floor of the locker room.

Where, ironically, I might pick up some bacterial infection. 

 {Probably not TB, though.}