A Cup of Humility

I woke up at 12:02 am to the sound of our girl needing some sustenance and mama. “We’re getting this party started early,” I thought, as I scooped her out of her crib & nestled her little body against mine, realizing how ferociously the rain was pouring down outside.  To the sound of the water plummeting, my tears began to flow. Birthdays. Anniversaries. Family gatherings. They’re all viewed through a different lens now; one of memories and longing, one of retracing the playing out of how his once-strong body diminished before my tired eyes.  Life is two stages: one before and one after the loss of my dad.  I’m taken back to only months ago while sitting by his bedside - in the very spot he took his final breath - studying the intricacies of his elbows, and wondering to myself how many times those elbows must have extended and bent in his lifetime. Fixing cars, sitting behind a steering wheel, wiping up after children, rubbing backs, cheering on sporting events.  The

God doesn’t call you to help all 153,000,000 orphans worldwide, but you can help one, and for that one child, you can change the world. (Lifesong for Orphans) It’s been a couple weeks since the big Luau Adoption Fundraiser extravaganza.   We are still organizing the aftermath in our household with grass skirts strewn about and a heap of ‘thank you’ notes to write, all while marveling at the tremendous way this event played out. Now that it’s all wrapped up, we want to tell you that your awesome donations totaled just over $8,000, which is nearly half the guesstimated adoption cost!   (We don’t know the exact cost as it depends on how various legal &/or birth mother expenses tally up).   This adoption – the persual of our third child – is so much bigger than us.   While we have logically understood this concept from the beginning, the support and contributions received to date have solidified just how much truth that statement holds.   It is with heartfelt