Our 1st Year of Remembrance

Today our family celebrated our 1st year anniversary of adoption. The weeks leading up to this event were filled with tears. Tears of sorrow....tears of anger....and tears of why? I believe it has finally taken our oldest daughter Kidan a year to let her tears begin to flow; Gerima has had tears of anger toward her Ethiopian family which became evident as she stopped praying for her them during our morning prayer time. Abenezer has matured at expressing his tears with words that give me a better understanding of his thoughts. Mizan shares her dreams of her Ethiopian family and tells me when she misses them and asks the why questions.

But today was different. Today we celebrated. They put on their traditional Ethiopian attire. Streamers of both Ethiopian and American colors hung in our dining room. Aliza made an Ethiopian flag out of construction paper.

We brought out some Ethiopian memorabilia and placed it on the table. We watched movies of our trip to Africa and relived some of our precious memories, especially seeing their Ethiopian mom, sisters, Grandpa, and Grandma at their home near Adwa. Ethiopian music was played, and of course dancing followed. We had a wonderful breakfast at home for which Auburn made special pancakes that had chocolate chip smiley faces, shapes of Africa and even letters that spelled E-T-H-I-O-P-I-A. Some played outside, while others went for a walk on this 85 degree (!) April day.

Later, banana splits were made, and what a treat that was! We ended with a movie that the littlest ones enjoyed the most.

We made the one-year mark, which some adoptions do not make. I know without a doubt it was nothing short of the Grace of God that covered us this last year. There was no adoption support group for us -- we had two families bring a meal, and one of those was from a family of 13 with the dad being unemployed; their love to us was amazing. The adoption blog world wasn't as supportive as I thought it would be, most of them were more concerned about building up their blog empire then giving you any individual attention, which I really could have used. Our homeschool group was pretty silent with the exception of two families congratulating us. Our church family has been kind to us, yet relationships are distant, leaving very little adoption support there. I guess you can say I have felt pretty much alone in this process, and when you are alone in something you know is so right, you can get kinda sad and down and yeah, even somewhat mad. I have wondered, "Why does it have to be like this God?" He was silent... so very silent....

Upon reading other blogs I saw some of them getting help, from churches to volunteers helping teach English, to family members being available to relieve the load. We had none of this; it was all on us, or it wasn't gonna happen. I began to feel burned out and wished I had someone to share this load with. My husband is my best friend, but we still needed people with skin on to be there for us.

Encouragement can sustain you when you walk a path less traveled. I wish I could say everything's better now, but that would not be true. I may be walking with a limp, but I'm pressing forward into God's heart; its the heart of Love that holds me when all others fail. Would I do it again, what else would I do? Spend my time counting down the Big empty nest days? Get my nails done each week? Sell Norwex or Tupperware? Watch TV every night to fill my mind with the imaginations of Hollywood? How about investing my time in a great diet plan that promises me hope for a "new me" (heaven knows I could use it)? Or how about going to the mall every Saturday to fill that empty Love spot in my heart by buying more material possessions?

Herein lies my problem: I want to do something, be something and feel something for the One who has my heart, because all else pales when I'm with Him. And when I do His stuff.... His way ....it's pretty much just Him and Him alone who sees me. There's just not alot of glamour in that, but it sure is addicting as it exhilarates every fiber of my being.

2011 What lies ahead?

Ever feel like you don't know what tomorrow will bring let alone a whole year?

8 beautiful daughters,who would have thought?

I am so blown away by what my life has been this last year that I hesitate to speculate what may come in the future.

I have been sifted and am still being sifted, there is so much that I have yet to learn and I often find myself feeling like I have nothing to offer someone else. I am in the place where I don't even feel worthy to write in this blog, I don't have a bunch of exciting thoughts to share. This is really a strange place for me to be in. It's awkward when you can't find words to express your thoughts. When I speak the words resonate empty and dry which makes me want to draw back from speaking my thoughts, out loud. There's not much to give, when you feel so empty?
What about you? Have you ever felt like you were empty? When words fail to express your feelings? And you walk around in a daze just kinda wondering all kinds of things, but not sure what to do next?

Even so, let me leave you with this truth;
I am deeply moved when I think about the Love of my life.
His name is......Jesus and the wonderful cross is where I fall.



Me, hubby and children along with Cambodian friends


P.S. The adopted children are doing great, and I am amazed by God's goodness to me in this area. Please continue to pray for our family as I believe we are where we are only by the Grace of God and nothing from myself.

Welcome to America!

Oh, Dear Sweet Jesus I'm back!!!





He is so very Sweet to me. I've been metamorphosing since the adoptions and
I have found out that it's harder to become a butterfly than I originally thought, but in the end I sure am going to be beautiful and strong. No promises....of joy everyday, soooo "Put on a Happy Face", ever heard that song? But inside you're crying out for God's Grace to fill you in your darkest hour; the loneliness at times is deafening. I have so much to learn about giving and killing my wanna be's. The adopted children are so very kind, but they are children, and children have needs and then they have wants. I guess you could say that we're learning together, funny how that works:)

Jeff and I share a bedroom with our two little boys. We have one big bed and two little beds, sounds alittle like Goldilocks doesn't it?:) It's a Love, Hate sleeping arrangement. They are so beautiful as they lay there sleeping, little cupids. It's great that we know what they're doing at night and if they need our attention, but man, it's hard on your Love life if you know what I'm talkin about. I mean jeepers folks! can't a gal' have alittle fun without someone waking up? I mean come on!! Or if I want to read, the lamp light can sometimes cause them to stir around and I'm thinkin and prayin, "Are they going to wake up?? Oh,I hope... Oh,I hope... NOT!!!"

Getting back to Ethiopia:
I remember getting on the plane from Addis Ababa heading to New York and how the six of us were situating ourselves on the plane. I was managing six backpacks,sweat on my brow,trying to maintain some type of communication (No,Yes,ishy ishy); glancing around, I could see a few other adopting mom's on this big plane with their little dark babe wrapped around them in some cute snugly contraption sleeping away. I longingly looked at them and sighed.




It was at that point I felt we were worlds apart -- how could they understand me and how I felt? I was bringing an army home, and I had multiple needs to consider, older children who can't be wrapped in a little snugly yet needing snuggled just as much - maybe even more...but...midway through our long ride home the tide began to turn. I began to hear the screaming babes, and I watch the adopting mothers jiggle them around from hip to hip,swaying them side to side, pushing bottles or pacifiers, trying to console the crying babe and looking very tired. It was then I realized that they had their difficult times too - it was just different than mine, and the grass didn't look greener on the other side anymore. So... I leaned back in my seat and continued to read my book with my head phones on listening to some quiet music.
When we landed in New York I was telling the children about America and how great it was that they finally arrived at their wonderful new country. As we entered the customs line waiting our turn, I decided to video tape the kids' first time on American soil - after all this was an important point in their lives. I put the video camera away and got out my digital camera and I just took one picture (it must have been the flash that got his attention) when I heard "STOP...PUT THAT CAMERA DOWN NOW!!! He motioned with his hand, "Henry, go get that camera from her and take her film" (I'm thinkin, it's digital, bud; we are in 2010 after all.) Every one's now looking at me, the new-found criminal...seriously, a mother carrying a "Cars" backpack with four newly adopted children??



What? are you kidding? "Ma'Am, you are NOT to Be taking Pictures in Here!!!!!" SO Henry runs over to get my camera, I show him the pix, he tells me to delete it and any other pictures on the camera I took during customs. Thank God he didn't see me taping, he probably would have taken the video film. The big guy in charge was sooooo angry with me I thought I may have seen a tail, and believe me it wasn't a cute bunny tail! I apologized to him several times, but he wasn't about to lower himself to receive it. I had no idea that it was against "the rules" because I sure never saw any such "rules". The children just looked in bewilderment, "Welcome to America kids"(I thought with sarcasm)... I was so sad that they had to experience this "first" in such a negative light. There wasn't any "Welcome to America, we are so glad you came!" I was shocked at the response of our country, and I was so glad that they did not take my digital card or find out about my video film. If they would have taken it all, imagine the pictures from Ethiopia with the memories gone because of some mistake I made, so be forewarned.

I have always had problems with rules, I seem to always break them. Seriously...I don't always intend to do it, it just happens with me, and I have had to carry the guilt of that all my life. How is it that I'm crushed by the Big guy who wants to make sure I suffer for breaking a rule I was never told existed? It's just like the enemy to try to take us out....guilt....guilt....guilt...
Wise up, daughter. Know your enemy. Try this on.
Grace.....Grace....Grace....oooh, my friends, that feels so much better! I think I'll wear that instead:)

Extravagant Auntie

It was mid morning and we were waiting at our hotel for the children to arrive. As we looked out over the veranda, you could see the big city of Addis Ababa. Inside I was stirring, how was I going to do this? Again rehearsing my inadequacies to take on this huge task. Then came the van and we watched them come out with an extra woman in-tow ... who was she? A Nannie perhaps?
Mommie!!,Daddie!! they yelled as we stood from the balcony waving at them. Jeff turns and quickly runs down the stairs to greet them. But they are faster and are running up the stairs to greet us. This unknown woman comes up the stairs with them carrying a large suitcase. She is smiling ear to ear and introduces herself; I'm still thinkin "nannie", and wow! these kids sure brought a ton of stuff with them.

After a few times around the introductions of each other we come to the realization that this "nannie" is the girls' aunt! Who would have thought we would meet their aunt?!? She was so happy to meet us, and the suitcase was filled with things she had got for us. We were honored to be given such graciousness, and shown such extravagant love. She bought all the children traditional outfits (including Abenezer who is not related to her), a coffee set (with all the extras needed to have a traditional Ethiopian coffee ceremony), leather wallet for me, a belt for Jeff, necklaces, headbands/wristbands for the boys, bracelets for all the girls at home, weaved baskets, unroasted coffee (or so we thought,but 4 months later found out it was a dried grain snack,ha.ha:)and spices.
She does not have the means to do this easily, it took great sacrifice on her part to give us such an abundance of gifts.
She was so happy for the children,for them to be given a home and a family,and her joy was so very evident. I kept thinkin, 'You're such a stingy American, Cindy' --how could I not look honestly at myself in light of whatI was being shown. She wasn't carrying a Christian label or trying to get me to see how great she was, she was just being who she was -- "giving" -- and I knew that I wasn't even close to her in heart, and that hit like an arrow in my selfish heart. Really, I felt so inadequate to be given so much, and trusted with so much. She trusted us to care for her family and wanted to honor us with all that she could muster ... What do you do with that?

We had a good visit (considering the language barrier) and we're delighted to meet more of the girls' family and find out a little more about them. The girls had been given time with their aunt who lives in Addis Ababa, which we were totally unaware of until then. She gave us a beautiful picture of the girls when they had their traditional clothes on, and I've kept it in my Bible ever since. She is the one we have connection with to this day, and I cannot express how thankful I am that we have this relationship since we have adopted older children, this is more than helpful to them.

Meeting for the first time

When we flew into Addis, the driver who picked us up looked at me with my white scarf draped around me, wearing a bright yellow tie-dyed skirt and motioned with his hands how surprised to find me looking so nice - or should I say so traditional. I felt he was pleased to see an American women honor their customs. So guess what? I got treated with honor - amazing how that works?!
We were hoping to meet someone else that day but they cancelled. I can't go into detail here, but let's say we have some unfinished connections that still needs/wants to be done. They asked us if Jeff and I would like to meet the children ... we weren't supposed to meet them until the following day. Yes! We would love to meet them and surprise them at their school! We both thought it would be so much better this way, as they would go back to the Care Center (a nice name for orphanage) that night and come to stay with us the next day as planned. It would give us both time to get used to the change, rather than the usual abrupt drop off and run:) (sorry I couldn't resist). Having adopted older children, I think it worked much better. They drive us to their school,and we sneak up to the Principal's office. As we wait I hear the bell ringing for them to get out of class, but the Principal is talking our ears off and I'm thinking, "Please stop, I want to go see our children!!!" Finally?! we get out of his office and we see the two oldest girls, Kidan and Gerima. Wow! They looked so much smaller than the pictures we had seen of them! I said, "You're so little," and I kept thinking they are way smaller than their pictures showed them. It seemed sad to actually see that they were so vulnerable to what may come their way. I guess you could say I felt like a mother hen. They were sooooo receiving of our love and I was thinking what a wonderful God I serve that their hearts are open to receive us. I can't say I was in la-la land, because I wasn't. I knew I had a sound mind and this was not an emotional high for me. I really am glad for that, because I'm a feely person and sometimes that doesn't go so well for the looooonnnngggg haul, if you know what I mean?! They really liked the white scarf and skirt too; they said, "Mom, you louk so boootiful."

I really believe God was directing all my choices right down to the clothes I wore. Who knows, for you it may be a T-shirt that has a name on it that connects you or a bill-cap with a picture, or a necklace with a unique design. It amazes me how God created us to take delight in our senses and how He communicates to us through them.

Kidan and Gerima were both as I pictured them and acted just like I thought they would. We said our good-byes with the promise of seeing each other the next day. From there we went to see the two smaller ones, Abenezer and Mizan, at their school.
They were surprised to see us and had no problem knowing who we were.

Mizan was so tiny to me, and Abenezer was more distant and loud; they were both cute as could be. No blissful dreamy feeling here, I was praying, "God, I need you" in order to do this. Four children, that's 1. 2.. 3... 4.... oh, my goodness!!!! that's alot of children, it's gonna have to be God or bust. I smile as I type this because someone who's been stretched further would just smile and say, "Honey, you're just starting, you haven't seen anything yet!"







The schools were pretty simple and the van that carried the children to and from school was shockingly poor-looking.

I still remember their radiant smiles in that dirty, torn-up van; they were children care free and not encumbered by the "have nots" of life.

In America we have, have, have and yet where are the smiles of happiness??? These children have not, not, not, yet they are happier than most children I see. I would much rather ride in a dirty van filled with radiant children than ride in the richest vehicle with one unsatisfied child.


Don't you just Love God's way? The last will become first and the first will become last. God will choose who sits at the head of His table and He will give honor to whom honor is due. I know we will be surprised out of our socks who God honors, because it won't be who we thought; I just can't wait for that day.

We were so glad to meet their teachers and one teacher in particular caught my heart.


I prayed a blessing over her as I just could sense the love she had for these children.
Later we went back to our quiet little guest room alone, pondering what we had seen and felt. The next day was coming soon and our lives were to change completely ... never to be the same again.





Sorry for not being more regular ... it's just so busy at home, and I need a good block of time to write with clear thought.

Mom left her purse hanging

We were suppose to fly back to Addis the next day, but as it turns out the Ethiopian airlines pilot can't fly at night, What?? I know, I know, it sounded unreal to me too but it's true. It was turning dark and it just wasn't going to work, so they provided a hotel room for us and paid for our food, too. It really worked out good for us, considering we got one hotel night and meal paid for when we were short on funds to began with. So for us it was a God thing. We're sitting in the hotel restaurant eating when we ask a gentlemen from our airline group to join us at our table.

We began the general conversations of who are you and who are we, ect. Well, I began to tell him about our adoption and how God moved in our hearts and how the Father loved us because He adopted us..... and I pause a moment and decide I might should cool it because I'm not sure where he is at with all this, so I ask him his name. He says, "My name is Mohammed". Beep..... beep... beep.. beep,beepbeepbeepbeepbeep - Click! my mind is whirling, Cindy, I believe you're sitting across from a Muslim! Yep, I sure was:) He was born and raised all his life, all his parents' lives and so on in this belief. He comes from a large family in Saudi Arabia and he goes every year to celebrate Ramadan. He has an open disposition to listen to Christians, but his family does not even like to do business with Jews or Christians; he does not agree with his family's angry attitudes towards them. We had a really good talk, and Jeff even got out his Bible to share a piece of scripture with him, and I was praying that his heart would be open to God's truth. I wished I could say that he received Jesus that night, but I'm beginning to understand that it's not my job to "git'er done". I only need to follow the Holy Spirit's leading and do what God asks of me for that moment, and the rest is up to God. It's really quite simple if you have a "Child like" heart:)

After our divine dinner appointment, Jeff and I headed back up to our room with excitement in our steps - and I'm talking steps!!!!! It must have been 8 flights of steps as we were almost on the top floor. We start to get ready for bed and Jeff's counting his money for the hundredth time as we were always in a state of "Do we have enough???" He looks over at me and says, "Cindy, where's the money I gave you to keep?" "It's in my fanny pack", I casually respond, putting my PJs on. "Where is your fanny pack?", he asks. I began to look over the room and see where I laid it, when a light bulb goes on: " Oh my God (with complete honor), I remember taking it off and hanging it on my chair in the restaurant. "Jeff, QUICK!!!!!!" RUN DOWN AND GET IT NOW!!" So off he runs in his PJs down the 8 flights of stairs. And let me tell you folks I was praying, oh God, oh God, oh God please help us. I knew it was only by His mercy that we would ever see our money back in that bag.

When Jeff got there the bag was gone from the chair and he was told that someone had taken it to the front desk. Off he went to the front desk to hopefully retrieve it, upon asking for little green purse/bag the attendant handed it to him with an odd sort of smile. As Jeff returned up the stairs (panting) and counted the money, not a cent was taken - and that was a lot of money folks ,$4000.00 to be exact! God granted us mercy when my mistake could have been devastating. This was not the first time I've done this; I did this exact thing when we went to Israel five years ago - ( hung bag on chair in restaurant and they moved to front desk) why did I repeat? God did the same thing: mercy was given ... and not a cent taken.

I'll tell you one thing, I knew He was watching "my back" or should I say "my pack":)

PS- earlier, remember my upsetness with my husbands lack of calculating the correct amount of money we needed?, well lets just say, I could feel a repentance coming on. I was getting an attitude adjustment toward humility, really fast.

Mom...

You gave me life, when I had nothing to offer you.

You met my needs, at your own expense.

You loved me when I was helpless, small... unlovely.

It sounds a lot like Jesus. Your heart has taught mine to love Him. I find that you are usually right. You have a perspective that sees beauty in small things. You have eyes that see hope. You can match the colors of the skies with the color of your soul. When you cry, God catches your tears.

You have taught me what to fight for. To listen to God. To follow him. And most of all to Love Him with all of my heart. Not to be half-hearted, not to be cold, to let everything else go, to cry a lot, a love a lot more. To soften my heart, search it, listen to it, and then to wear it on my sleeve --just like Jesus.

I was in the garden, talking to Jesus, and I looked over and saw a bleeding heart plant.

God said to me, "This is my heart for everyone. Hanging out in the open. I don't hide my heart; it is there for everyone. Always the same."

I said, "But what if people are careless with your heart? What if they take it and use it?"

He said, "People may hurt my heart every day, but no matter what, it is always there for them to hurt again... You will Always have my heart."

Wow... what love!! It's enough to make me do cartwheels!

When I say your heart sounds like Jesus', that is what I mean. Your heart is on the line for me all of the time. It is beautiful. Thank you, thank you, thank you--feels like empty words when I compare them to the amount of love you have poured into me. If I never get another gift from God, I will always be blessed for being given a mother like you.

I can't even see the full light at the end of the tunnel. But you placed my hand in Christ's, and I will never let go.

I love you.

Your daughter,

Annabelle Leslie