tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45644620999815236872024-03-14T12:27:39.754+08:00Northern_chinaAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017827736604313680noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4564462099981523687.post-66187721698595158022015-05-07T12:22:00.000+08:002015-05-08T11:32:55.297+08:00Leaving ParadiseHere is a letter about our upcoming move...although that new move may sound exciting to you, some of our kids think we might be a bit psychotic, and i'm not sure I'm not inclined to believe them some days. Our living room full of boxes for a month is just one of the things that may prove 'insanity' is a closer fit for our lifestyle than 'exciting'. We hope to settle in Qingdao and call it home for quite a while and are excited to be closer to some of our greatest interests and passions: China, Chinese (the language), Chinese friends, International Students, Mountains, Orphans/orphanages/disabled children...and we'll even be a couple thousand miles nearer the US! Read the letter below to find out more. Blessings!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLbi7rYJxFMGXt_iZgXDYu-yl9SrdKi8oQoqHpKo4e5ALw4vpWS2lX9zFds3xlS5GcLmQWkzNz-AHFsf3FLP5xUx-VCMXGVWn1bLiQyILGJQRXGGMnAPipZRzc8_YGrXP4mx1jTIFXKvos/s1600/Fang-Suo-Chengdu-1-215.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLbi7rYJxFMGXt_iZgXDYu-yl9SrdKi8oQoqHpKo4e5ALw4vpWS2lX9zFds3xlS5GcLmQWkzNz-AHFsf3FLP5xUx-VCMXGVWn1bLiQyILGJQRXGGMnAPipZRzc8_YGrXP4mx1jTIFXKvos/s320/Fang-Suo-Chengdu-1-215.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New Bookstore!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7S4yNinlHPgOZsGmRcP99NLoXk7AaVYz1MPV4TgjqPKKJJn3LhF-Ne3AKV4dYDVaVJxMYsMN_JCykbTfNakPW-CTgMq6FL4bLp9xe9wajYzHWAKm-EcxaVcztbhyphenhyphenBZx43ADXgtqVWLLs7/s1600/Governors+mansion+qd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7S4yNinlHPgOZsGmRcP99NLoXk7AaVYz1MPV4TgjqPKKJJn3LhF-Ne3AKV4dYDVaVJxMYsMN_JCykbTfNakPW-CTgMq6FL4bLp9xe9wajYzHWAKm-EcxaVcztbhyphenhyphenBZx43ADXgtqVWLLs7/s320/Governors+mansion+qd.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old Governor's Mansion from the time that Germany controlled Qingdao</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgvN4DGjdOVqcpv95kkmz8QJUqY4EUJ3w4VoBsUWF5Rnrlkto_1GpPWFNdhW_QAoLqc1EoTHhr1a6vT6LjngLquNWzGmjBYMmR9pPrJzx0hEJsrt5_S2WnwC6oV9QAzpWyW-nOuDuOABTN/s1600/qd.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgvN4DGjdOVqcpv95kkmz8QJUqY4EUJ3w4VoBsUWF5Rnrlkto_1GpPWFNdhW_QAoLqc1EoTHhr1a6vT6LjngLquNWzGmjBYMmR9pPrJzx0hEJsrt5_S2WnwC6oV9QAzpWyW-nOuDuOABTN/s320/qd.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another shipping port, not as big as Singapore's but almost</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMbcUNjYNVtX5HyugDuF-uadgsp8wn4CJSV50nuiN6MdUJm_MLRhzlvfHtPJ8eYs-s_GNXzh4T7utFUgHitppEhLoz-0ApoDwmhFFjMoYkFeGYtnJDEO5AwED3C66EqcN11PN6ZENEdJUy/s1600/tour_img-207581-48.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="175" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMbcUNjYNVtX5HyugDuF-uadgsp8wn4CJSV50nuiN6MdUJm_MLRhzlvfHtPJ8eYs-s_GNXzh4T7utFUgHitppEhLoz-0ApoDwmhFFjMoYkFeGYtnJDEO5AwED3C66EqcN11PN6ZENEdJUy/s320/tour_img-207581-48.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Laoshan is the part of the mountain range outside of Qingdao</td></tr>
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<br />
When we came to Singapore 4 years ago we knew that we would be returning to China at some point. Although, we weren’t sure of how or when, we knew that we couldn’t walk away from China that easily! We’ve been impressed recently by the story of the Exodus, when Moses told the fleeing slaves of Egypt to stand still, the Lord had other ideas. With an army at their back and a roaring river at their front He said, “Why are you crying out to me? Tell the Israelites to move on.” (In other words, “Stop wailing, I never said to stand still, start moving forward.”) And it seems we’ve had the same word spoken on our lives. Adopting Amelia and integrating her into our family and care for her medically has been a huge focus of these years, and we couldn’t have picked a better place. The medical support has been high quality and all English! Mike has loved teaching social studies and spending time with students from all over the world. Ashley was a guidance counselor for three years until Grey was born.<br />
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We’ve thoroughly enjoyed our time in Singapore; our children have been enriched in many ways through the teachers and staff at International Community School. It’s going to be hard to leave behind our friends, not to mention, the comforts of a beautiful and clean ‘city in a garden’. But God has opened a unique door to allow us to work with Leadership Development Institute Schools in China. Since 1986, LDi has been making a difference in the lives of expatriate students and their families through International Schools. So, we are now busily going through the paperwork to procure a visa for China before we leave Singapore and figuring out all the other details of an international move. We are also planning our time back in the States this summer. <br />
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Mike will teach high school Social Studies, at International School of Qingdao (ISQ), in Shandong Province. Ashley will stay at home with Grey and hopes to reconnect with some of the activities she was doing in China before, such as orphan advocacy and rehabilitation for the disabled. There are ongoing projects such as these in Qingdao. The older 4 children will attend the International School where Mike is teaching and we are praying for friends and families to build relationships with over the next few years as the kids enter high school and prepare for college and adult life.<br />
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We're excited for this opportunity to be used by God to have an impact not only on the lives of our students, but also on our Chinese neighbors and associates. If you would like to find out more information, please check out the LDi website at: <a href="http://www.ldieducation.org/">http://www.ldieducation.org/</a> and contact us. <br />
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We covet your prayers as we make this big transition, <br />
<br />
Mike & Ashley<br />
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Email: mxstern@gmail.com<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017827736604313680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4564462099981523687.post-5764134256095581432015-04-22T13:44:00.000+08:002015-04-22T13:46:23.581+08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyqzlYXkxfYD2GQINuxxzee5JW86f_oU83l6cBa-VZFSO4E46xd2P21bN-yVxZWVPjbqbd3xsIVqVCpjgk76g' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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I can cross an ocean,<br />
I can learn a language,<br />
I can smile for the camera,<br />
I can learn a new name,<br />
I can draw beautiful skies,<br />
I can learn to bake a cake,<br />
I can learn to 'high five',<br />
I can learn to use my legs,<br />
I can learn to do my figures,<br />
I can learn to wear new clothes,<br />
I can kiss my baby brother,<br />
But no one can teach me how to hold a momAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017827736604313680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4564462099981523687.post-67207702460223794492015-04-15T13:44:00.002+08:002015-04-15T14:43:54.770+08:00Goodbyes: The impossible checklist <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghcnXq3ak-2lt-d9e9H7uRzCaLaYMR5QzKtZwVNJ3vqFU2I-UjIKUT_SZ3hQWE7eFooUd4xp4RZ5-58RFmqBwLbqlriXdWzlCXsyoMi4PV4KYDrf_8k4b4xq0o3Jg2bkRVvGXjJi8nDLao/s1600/4-IMG_1004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghcnXq3ak-2lt-d9e9H7uRzCaLaYMR5QzKtZwVNJ3vqFU2I-UjIKUT_SZ3hQWE7eFooUd4xp4RZ5-58RFmqBwLbqlriXdWzlCXsyoMi4PV4KYDrf_8k4b4xq0o3Jg2bkRVvGXjJi8nDLao/s1600/4-IMG_1004.jpg" height="190" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Checklist ie; what my mind does instead of sleeping</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The boxes arrived a week ago. Not sure why I wanted them so early, except that I have become less of a procrastinator than ever since the 4th, and 5th child came along. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Or...I need to go through the motions of doing those things that are possible, so I'm distracted from all the thoughts I could waste on all those things which are impossible. Those lists I cannot figure out, or speed up or predict:</div>
<ul>
<li>Will we get our visa paperwork while still in Singapore or will we have to traipse off to DC?</li>
<li>Will the kids survive another displacement and new place, new friends, new home, new food...</li>
<li>Will we need ____ in China or regret that we wasted space hauling it?</li>
<li>How do we connect the dots between Illinois, Wyoming, New York and all the people/places in between that we want to see. Trains, Planes and Automobiles? </li>
<li>Will the baby ever potty train? (Not that I care, but would love to pack less)</li>
<li>How will Amelia respond to moving back into her birth culture? </li>
<li>When will we feel settled? When will we be home?</li>
<li>Will we ever see some of these amazing people again? </li>
<li>How do you say, "thanks" for 4 years of friendship in the midst of some big life transitions such as adoption and a baby born to old people.</li>
<li>Will these curtains, sheets, pictures... fit?</li>
<li>What will life in Qingdao be? How will it be to return to China and not be in Shanxi?</li>
</ul>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And so, I soak up the enjoyment of wrapping those trinkets of our lives, and clothes we never needed here in a box and taping it shut. Stacking it in an inconspicuous place in an apartment measuring 900 sq. feet (Ha!) and saying I finished something. </div>
<div>
Really the boxes distract me from the real goodbyes. Goodbye to the people, the lessons God has taught, the society I have been honored to be accepted into, the doctors who have supported Amelia, the teachers who have coached our kids, the church we grew with.<br />
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But I'm reminded by watching my kids who are still living right here, right now with all their energy that this next few weeks is a part of the process. And the process is just as lovely as the goal.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxVF6yiOJbKIKAJa7wce8S9jm0v3wVRNio_bH-B2rKu9HO9p05lsmcHYZ74fqGiXvHEz-cCRh2GD3VqxZqdU0y8qGM0oAZpea2-eiC2Ha6OrkvVS97spwIf5OrDSU__Ltf6tka_u5Si0DM/s1600/1-ash00017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxVF6yiOJbKIKAJa7wce8S9jm0v3wVRNio_bH-B2rKu9HO9p05lsmcHYZ74fqGiXvHEz-cCRh2GD3VqxZqdU0y8qGM0oAZpea2-eiC2Ha6OrkvVS97spwIf5OrDSU__Ltf6tka_u5Si0DM/s1600/1-ash00017.jpg" height="320" width="275" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waves can be the most fun you'll ever have!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>The crashing unknown </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>is </b></span><b style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">exhilarating.</b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi02wUVo-PTLTkxtLh9sNYBnyv9IaxPfm6tgyLiklWu0RJlzmXgq7UJQnh95YkE_EOzEPQqEgmgylAUvZL9Izu-on7biFGjLcgRVCiqpSwFRPSfazfqXjwZ2Z6p7c296gLIXKvzLV4ceCc7/s1600/3-IMG_1009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi02wUVo-PTLTkxtLh9sNYBnyv9IaxPfm6tgyLiklWu0RJlzmXgq7UJQnh95YkE_EOzEPQqEgmgylAUvZL9Izu-on7biFGjLcgRVCiqpSwFRPSfazfqXjwZ2Z6p7c296gLIXKvzLV4ceCc7/s1600/3-IMG_1009.jpg" height="320" width="276" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Savoring the journey</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>The hike up the formidable staircase, is just as much fun as arriving.</b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPqr-nhuCx0bafHdlFMA9sw8g2IC9Vwu6SLCLvDWhkJqv1jTulTCQAY1xeI5lxF5K3ZQDcBtx7guNbMpWsvY_8O8RXCXI-Ecpg5IhgrDtGSM7jw0dpm15O_BsRIOwRKtQyjVpdkH2dfYBt/s1600/2-IMG_1129.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPqr-nhuCx0bafHdlFMA9sw8g2IC9Vwu6SLCLvDWhkJqv1jTulTCQAY1xeI5lxF5K3ZQDcBtx7guNbMpWsvY_8O8RXCXI-Ecpg5IhgrDtGSM7jw0dpm15O_BsRIOwRKtQyjVpdkH2dfYBt/s1600/2-IMG_1129.jpg" height="320" width="280" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>The mysterious monster that just might bite, is the story we tell our friends.</b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj851GHTWZHSFZi1-lldSQV9FAXS2srlNfxHO4VB6qp2pQ4cbVPQrQJ_No3S-rWz4GyUTHQsQa6gdglK9vTXIYgCB8HCeAwwyFuqcPOJEchMIYDKrxS7qyrWa_FPlaGSDwVFvOQYdEjERta/s1600/1-DSC_4907.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj851GHTWZHSFZi1-lldSQV9FAXS2srlNfxHO4VB6qp2pQ4cbVPQrQJ_No3S-rWz4GyUTHQsQa6gdglK9vTXIYgCB8HCeAwwyFuqcPOJEchMIYDKrxS7qyrWa_FPlaGSDwVFvOQYdEjERta/s1600/1-DSC_4907.JPG" height="320" width="275" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>Belief only during the calm, belies my lack of knowledge of the deep.</b></span><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFm7HGH7-NAv4Kp7V594W-c6j-0kkTOsAmAH8GLOi-w8bFZnDVaBk-UkomRdo6mUm3eBb76XDYYh2miR7iBxBi7hQeBN2nQBGzU6hxDfTP_0H-1nrhQ0u96WRklAVcqRY9fe2Pb6_oSkdi/s1600/5-IMG_3142.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFm7HGH7-NAv4Kp7V594W-c6j-0kkTOsAmAH8GLOi-w8bFZnDVaBk-UkomRdo6mUm3eBb76XDYYh2miR7iBxBi7hQeBN2nQBGzU6hxDfTP_0H-1nrhQ0u96WRklAVcqRY9fe2Pb6_oSkdi/s1600/5-IMG_3142.jpg" height="320" width="275" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I either need to get this tired, or become this trusting</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>Resting this deeply only follows a knowledge of the one who holds me.</b></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017827736604313680noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4564462099981523687.post-69455743246263269632014-12-08T12:49:00.000+08:002014-12-08T12:49:25.670+08:00A Flier, and a FearLife has a way of imitating life. On a recent family adventure I opted in though I had said I never would and suspended hundreds of feet in the air my fears were pretty plain to all. Grey, on the other hand...Indomitable and extreme athlete in all arenas already at age 1.5 rejoiced. I am sure he believed that he had willed us to our present height by his own desire. As soon as the flier (the highest in the world) came into view, still several blocks away, he began begging in languages none of us speak, but all of us understand that he wanted it, and badly. Gratified by our willing obedience we relented and put ourselves into the hands of technology and God, and climbed the skies.<br />
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Myself, feeling quite human, could not resist the urge to ponder the thrilling principles of Gravity and so I clung to the bench in the middle, knowing that leaning out over the glass walls could speed those timeless principles of falling, if only slightly. But Grey, true to his word (loosely translated) adored everything, even the rubber seal around those glass walls was inspected and pulled away by him.<br />
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The ocean he squealed about, the cars he begged to hold, the sky itself he gloried in even as more and more of it separated us from the earth he prostrates himself upon many times a day. Trying to get closer to the drama and thrill of the heights he laid down and scooted himself into the wall of glass, so no part of him was on the opaque portion of the floor; that portion that was so dear to my sanity. </div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">I and my doctrine of Gravity sat in the middle or squatted (we learn this in Asia or die of shame) with an outstretched hand clinging to his shirt. Silly, but every fiber of my being told me I had to, my grasp might be his only salvation. I clung. Thanks to those engineers and maintenance staff oiling the cogs and replacing the screws, Gravity never intervened and we survived. As we again stepped on to the beautiful, but admittedly less grandiose tourist scenes like Popeyes, Subway and McDonalds, I breathed and gave myself a 5 for participation.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">And then my mind, able now to function, thought of the Flier that is life with teenagers. Lofty conversations, grandiose ideas, amazing potential, near falling from great heights and oh the heights! While we pray they can defy gravity, beg that the earth remain stable and for the cogs in the wheel to remain true. And often, I sit in the middle, fear of what might be and grasp at their shirt tails, thinking my hand might be the only one to catch them when it all implodes. And confident my hand can keep them. </span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Hmmm... but underneath I want the faith to let go, stand up against that glass wall with them, and peer at the majesty, Remark on the beauty and revel in the experience of defying gravity. Grey's right, The sky is even more amazing from these reckless heights, I just need the heart to savor it. And you know, those two teenagers, and one who thinks he is, are pretty fun when I stop clinging and let them walk upright.</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017827736604313680noreply@blogger.com3Singapore Flyer, Singapore1.289397 103.863231000000041.2884049999999998 103.86197050000004 1.290389 103.86449150000004tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4564462099981523687.post-11218604997694249702014-11-13T11:38:00.003+08:002014-11-13T11:53:11.415+08:00A child who's lost her faith<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />I always search the ground for those things that will make me stumble, the hand never caught me<br />I never look at the sky in the swing, for the one time I did the arms did not comfort.<br />I never ask for food, I anticipate with fear that you will say no to my complaint of hunger, my newborn cries shushed instead of fed.<br />I cannot trust you when you help with home work, I taught myself how to talk, how to walk, how to crawl...you were not there. I'm not sure you understand 2+2.<br />I am in constant fear of falling off a chair, one foot always on the ground, my only attachment was a string tied around my leg and knotted to the crib.<br />I sleep with eyes open, the dark has not been peppered with gentle late-night kisses, and one more tucking-in.<br />I trip, because concerned about behind me, I look over my shoulder constantly. You have not always had my back.<br />I cannot listen to the words you read, so much of the rest of this might fade away, I hold on with clenched fists to the moments, I miss the story.<br />I weep at the sight of a doctor, I faced so many all alone.<br />I speak of friends and their jibes and habits with obsession. Someday I will be like them, carefree.<br />I panic when you walk away, for five long years they walked away and never came back.<br />I play, but frantically, as if it's the thing I must do, the way back to joy. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I read the book, There are no Children Here by Alex Kotlowitz, a classic social study on American inner-city growing up and I've spent hours in orphanages, numbed to the fact that the children are primarily, profoundly silent. But my son asked after returning to Amelia's orphanage one summer, why the room full of 3-5 year old boys and girls couldn't speak and I had to say, I guess they have no one to teach them to talk and play and run and smile. Who knew it had to be taught?<br /><br />As we try to regrow childlike trust in life, and see this modeled in Grey's wild, exuberant play, I find myself frustrated, wondering how long it takes to get back a childhood? </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.2000007629395px;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="background-color: white; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amelia balancing with friends, Eden and Gabe</td></tr>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017827736604313680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4564462099981523687.post-13125788433751495492014-11-07T14:44:00.001+08:002014-11-07T14:48:53.012+08:00I am Boy<span id="goog_1311187474"></span><span id="goog_1311187475"></span><br />
My sister likes pretty dresses and fluffy flowers and bright candy. That's nice...<br />
But I love digging deep into the earth with my toe and feeling the rough dirt clinging to my toes,<br />
The zmmmmzmmmmm music of weed eaters, and sawing, and drilling,<br />
The schschsch flash of the street cleaners brush left too low and sparking as it passes,<br />
The arf arf of the dog whose owner can't get him to stand still,<br />
The hum and majesty buildings at the wharf sliding along streets of metal,<br />
And the clang, bang, crash of the metal crate as it dangles in the air, a little toy box and crashes into place with a thousand others,<br />
The puff of hot coming out of large, loud trucks as they whir by,<br />
And the brbrbrbrbrbr of the motorcycles whizzing through the lanes.<br />
I love<br />
The tickle of a dozen ants as I squish them in my hands,<br />
The slime of lotion all over my tummy,<br />
The goo of yogurt as it drips down my chin,<br />
The Ssss Sssss of the sidewalk sweeper.<br />
The taste of insect repellent, fake leather, vitamin capsules and foam,<br />
The crane and excavator and buildings being born and buildings being torn.<br />
It's so fun to see<br />
The shock on mom's face as I chuck a large book at her her, and hear<br />
The roars of laughter when I wipe my food on the wall.<br />
The shout of surprise when I scale new heights, or burrow into new holes.<br />
I live for<br />
The feel of almost-dying when I climb up on the shoe cabinet to jump into the couch,<br />
The thrill of the fall when I dive off the back of the chair,<br />
And even the ouch of pain when my head hits harder than I intended,<br />
The way every different object falls so differently when thrown off the eleventh floor<br />
And the way my sister objects when she has to go retrieve her socks or shoes...again.<br />
The echo of my loudness as it catapults around the room,<br />
And the people who come running to see what all the ruckus is.<br />
You may call me crazy, wild, hyper, urban, gross, in-poor-taste or dirty.<br />
But mostly I am Boy.<br />
<br />
Inspired by Grey and recently watched documentary, <a href="http://michaelthompson-phd.com/books/raising-cain/">Raising Cain</a><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017827736604313680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4564462099981523687.post-2700085406103111832014-09-01T14:04:00.000+08:002014-09-01T14:04:11.798+08:00Cooking WhereverI was born for cooking with internet. I've long ago dumped recipe books as no sooner do I find a beautiful recipe than I also discover that I do not have, do not know the name in the local language, or do not want to go through the trouble to find one of the main ingredients. Don't get me wrong, I've never gone completely local and have trekked to find butter or cream or local honey on occasion, but really I am perfectly happy with how I can cook with a web device in my hands. Search millet, goat cheese, raisins, pork and I'm sure to find a recipe that calls for all 4 and claims to be gourmet (yeah, my kids never buy that, but...). Search for Amaranth flour, cocoa, coconut, vanilla and Iwith a 'm sure to find an amazing, healthy breakfast bar.<br />
And now with my husband on this radical diet, completely avoiding sugars and most complex carbs I can still search the limited ingredients available: goat cheese, chicken, spinach, garlic, quinoa, lemon and be sure someone out there has also been dieting and finding goat cheese for an unheard of 2 dollars a roll and fixating a bit...and blogging about it.<br />
In the wake of my daughter becoming a teenager and now living with two of them, as well as a tween, an 8 yr. old and a 1 yr. old I was thinking about the mixture of ways family is made, and the personalities that are dumped together and expected to survive--and even to sharpen each other and realized family recipes are for the birds. I'm actually not sure if the internet helps either. I haven't searched for 1 fastidious 14 year old with a desire to succeed that dogs him constantly; 1 13 yr old book worm who loves doing her nails, eating lemons and (who knew) playing soccer in the mud; 1 extremely energetic 10 yr old who loves guns, speed, friends, and playing badminton, biking, hide and seek, or swimming especially when the sun has already gone down; 1 8 yr old from China who loves pretty clothes, pretty shoes, pretty hair, pretty bracelets, pretty cakes, friends, school, and making sure she knows where mom is all the time; and 1 1 yr old who has already shorted our house when he caused an electric fire, jumped out of his crib, summersaulted into his crib, fell 4 feet to his head trying to keep up with sister on the playground, runs everywhere and will gnaw on a piece of celery for an hour. But I'm pretty sure I wouldn't find that exact mix and I'd be stuck trying to figure out how to parent these kids on another's contagiously emphatic success plan.<br />
And so I try not to search for plans, and instead pray, hope, laugh, and beg and know that today is the best day I have with these amazing souls and tomorrow they will be different, with different wants, needs, longings, hurts and victories. And today pray that the hope will someday be realized. Even better than a good recipe, I hope for adults that stand tall in the confidence of who they are, what they believe and where they are headed. Someday.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017827736604313680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4564462099981523687.post-26983602279152883242014-06-30T22:20:00.002+08:002014-06-30T22:43:47.297+08:00Monday Everyday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://mojuproject.com/about/orphans/">orphan fact sheet</a><br />
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In orphanages it's Monday Everyday.<br />
Those who believe international or interracial adoption is a form of cultural genocide have never seen inside orphanages; have never shown up unannounced, without an entourage of officials and cameras and bags of crackers and milk. I wonder how orphanages they've seen instill culture, and if that culture has anything to do with the culture of the birth country?<br />
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I've learned about special needs, how to feed multiple babies quickly, how to clean it up, diaper them, wipe their faces, lay them down for a nap and begin with the feeding and hygiene rituals all over again in another room. I've learned that coloring is messy and the mobile kids steal crayons, so they can't be left behind for poor Ling to color when I've left. I've learned that gifts disappear when I leave, and so does the holiday celebration. I've learned that the caregivers are too tired to sing traditional songs and teach traditional dances, that no one has a budget for party dresses and hair bows. Culture rarely happens over shift work.<br />
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I've learned firsthand from my little orphan, who is one no more, how little she knew about her beautiful land, and rich culture. She knew nothing of Chinese New Year or Dragon Boat Festival or when she should eat dumplings, or our favorite date-filled zongzi 粽子. She had not tasted the most famous dish from her hometown, Yangzhou chao fan 扬州炒饭 (fried rice).<br />
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She did know how to queue, and lay still while being tied to a crib, that it was easiest to be fed from a spoon, and not to feed herself, that she shouldn't make messes... <br />
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Culture is a part of the family. It is a mother and father who care about the next generation who instill culture, who celebrate achievements and who take a moment out of life to talk about the meaning behind a day. Culture is the collective memory of a group of people celebrating life and hope.<br />
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There are amazing foster homes where life is celebrated, like <a href="http://www.littleflowerprojects.org/work.html">Little Flower</a>, <a href="http://www.thestarfishfosterhome.org/index.aspx">Star Fish Foster Home</a>, <a href="http://newdayfosterhome.blogspot.com/">New Day Foster Home</a>, <a href="http://www.blueskyhealinghome.org/">Blue Sky Healing Home</a>, and many others...but for so many an orphanage is just like a school. Only the goal is not learning and nurturing minds and molding hearts, but surviving. And survival is all that gets done. Please check out this movie about all those who are still <a href="http://buy.stuckdocumentary.com/">Stuck</a> and how you can work to help. To help give a child culture, whether it is yours or their own. To help make less Mondays for more orphans.<br />
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See <a href="http://www.adoptionpolicy.org/intladoption.html">Current International Policy</a> for insight into policies that are curbing international adoptions around the worldAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017827736604313680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4564462099981523687.post-16888794223821520772014-03-29T15:37:00.002+08:002014-03-29T15:43:25.258+08:00It's so not Northern China!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Little Number 4 at a beach in Indonesia</td></tr>
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We have experienced a lot since the last post. And I even forgot how to blog, where my blog was and who follows it. But I've been inspired to begin again. A different part of the planet, a different lifestyle and a different family. Beginning again.<br />
For starters, we live in Singapore, and contrary to what the check-in lady at DIA believes, Singapore is not part of China. The Chinese here want to make that clear. The country is off the southern tip of Malaysia, a long ways from China and 1 degree north of the equator. Living here is breathtaking and stifling in many ways.<br />
I have learned to deal with hordes of ants creeping their way across my floor, become grateful for the gecko I know is lurking behind a picture frame and waiting for me to leave so he can eat the ants. I have learned to live with constant rain and ensuing mould. I have learned (most importantly) to add u to many words, see 'mould'.<br />
I have lived through the longest drought in Singapore since the mid 1800's and prayed for rain. I'm done praying now.<br />
I have wondered with the taxi drivers and neighbors where in the world MH370 went and considered that people living somewhere down the street were in that plane and are not found.<br />
I have learned to live very far from home. No more of those neat and clean 12 hour flights to Chicago, no. Now it is a 2-day affair to get home. I have learned to call Singapore, 'home'...much like 600,000 other expats in a city-country overrun with foreigners like me. I have learned to live around white people again, and even learned to understand the Chinese around here, well sometimes, some dialects. The pinyin still bothers me, and the characters confound me.<br />
I have learned how to take kids to the beach and how to have a swimming pool at my disposal. I have learned how to stop and smell the flowers and other amazing scents in the forest behind my house. I've learned to pay exorbitant rent prices and not gulp for air every time. I've learned how to keep things from moulding, but not before I lost a leather purse that I kind of liked and a few other bags and blankets. I've learned babysitters are much more expensive than a full-time maid, so I've learned to train a maid. That is harder than it sounds...we spent some months in utter frustration and confusion, as I'm sure she did too. It's working now though, and I have time to blog again!<br />
We also gave birth to a baby. A family long past baby things, and baby sounds, and baby nights welcomed a baby almost one year ago and he has been good. He has helped us to experience a kinder side of living and taken the edge off our days and shaved some of the sleep off our nights. But he is good. His joy is unstoppable, his adoration unending, and his zeal unquenchable. Here are a few fun pics from life in the (almost) Southern hemisphere.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Little Number 5</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marina Bay Sands, the iconic Singapore resort</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colin loves to explore the jungle in our backyard</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An intense sensory experience everywhere I look</td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017827736604313680noreply@blogger.com1Singapore1.352083 103.819836000000010.84410649999999987 103.174389 1.8600595 104.46528300000001tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4564462099981523687.post-17906571092940860292011-10-13T04:30:00.001+08:002011-10-13T04:32:50.936+08:00Life goes on<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Dj-eBHzBXQKlicvScudYxSaYsi1BB_P3-2G9lrW8nFOUFHyxrSHve7BCbU8cF7PRQrg0vihaYB59kQRFkF762DtFBIr0e4XsyuLxo2xmKpQCT1r3yr9X6aYjf8ugPHKsdlMbDlbYSq8S/s1600/DSC_1316.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Dj-eBHzBXQKlicvScudYxSaYsi1BB_P3-2G9lrW8nFOUFHyxrSHve7BCbU8cF7PRQrg0vihaYB59kQRFkF762DtFBIr0e4XsyuLxo2xmKpQCT1r3yr9X6aYjf8ugPHKsdlMbDlbYSq8S/s320/DSC_1316.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Yes, we are learning how to deal with a defect that brings added challenges to life and overwhelmed me a few times in the last few weeks. Yes, we are living ten thousand miles apart and most of our communique happens in texts and twitter-sized bits. Yes, the kids are still sad about leaving China and not sure whether they should be excited or nervous about starting all over in Singapore...knowing so recently how that felt. Yes, we just adopted a new child who is not a baby and who is learning with us what our family is like, and we are learning with her what she is like in our family and kids don't really have that objective of a view of it all some days (okay, to be honest neither do I)Yes, one of our family members only speaks one of our languages, and we're all having to brush up on that pretty quick, and sometimes it's hard to learn Chinese fast enough to yell at your little sister (thank God!) Yes, we sometimes just give into the strangeness and rebel, but really it's become normal pretty quick and considering how much Amelia has had to adjust to our family and all the nuances she has to learn everyday to keep from clamming up and shutting down I'd say we're getting right up there close to the normal bar. And if I was me and my kids were talking to me about how they are so weird and our family is so abnormal I would lecture them about how we don't try to be normal and no one is normal and blah, blah, blah, 'cause they don't believe a word of it anyway. So, I remind myself through this post that actually, normal isn't what we're after, so I can quit trying to define my life by that and start defining it by the creativity of a Creator who is anything but normal! Below, our family and their cousins, and grandma...yeah, maybe Drew's right, maybe they aren't that normal:)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuDfrf7T9QcFGi6yn1zTeM_mGyb3MANQmJ4KxRwTWfdpsYGyXgATSWVLKFIczfNtd-QE3v7kerFXXzUVB0G_ThAd2oOYQAypS1wK7eJ6UoLdLe0ToPB1OQBMtmhC28x8a16wZUuDny0sOl/s1600/DSC_1461.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuDfrf7T9QcFGi6yn1zTeM_mGyb3MANQmJ4KxRwTWfdpsYGyXgATSWVLKFIczfNtd-QE3v7kerFXXzUVB0G_ThAd2oOYQAypS1wK7eJ6UoLdLe0ToPB1OQBMtmhC28x8a16wZUuDny0sOl/s320/DSC_1461.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrqR9PmNz7TYb45m4QRkH7wKQcd9YMRZxjEhhSz__Z-QA5tUarcUN2_ori_A5VZFHR7p454zQHRHn5coJrN-s46jCP6JNuL695FBgwe8TWUulzlnwh8hOFe3buoHxf94ykXjL-jmUAHpyR/s1600/DSC_1399.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrqR9PmNz7TYb45m4QRkH7wKQcd9YMRZxjEhhSz__Z-QA5tUarcUN2_ori_A5VZFHR7p454zQHRHn5coJrN-s46jCP6JNuL695FBgwe8TWUulzlnwh8hOFe3buoHxf94ykXjL-jmUAHpyR/s320/DSC_1399.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf-oRfSqY20z1-KfizXejARoLLQzvF70l3LeE1iMA9A2U2fbV2I7KDR2C6tTD6FdsNR20t10lE36rdu0eBjNEuRj_gWxSJMZtLXqZKVal7yJGqVAokQF7iSqJQxkpr4tvY3waLJQnnSuna/s1600/DSC_1565.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf-oRfSqY20z1-KfizXejARoLLQzvF70l3LeE1iMA9A2U2fbV2I7KDR2C6tTD6FdsNR20t10lE36rdu0eBjNEuRj_gWxSJMZtLXqZKVal7yJGqVAokQF7iSqJQxkpr4tvY3waLJQnnSuna/s320/DSC_1565.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPZCLUshwmha4kdmyQCkzMHohkAxE1vLNowuNWjJNHBY6O0CivYbqj_hKbUh70bzV2fi0QI8VS9FITw8qF0OE251DnK9ezw6RtJRMhvfAVRA2SZulh-HOpxomqs0bse-c6ONnqOgRFLmV3/s1600/DSC_1627.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPZCLUshwmha4kdmyQCkzMHohkAxE1vLNowuNWjJNHBY6O0CivYbqj_hKbUh70bzV2fi0QI8VS9FITw8qF0OE251DnK9ezw6RtJRMhvfAVRA2SZulh-HOpxomqs0bse-c6ONnqOgRFLmV3/s320/DSC_1627.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017827736604313680noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4564462099981523687.post-91888621740988265832011-07-11T07:49:00.001+08:002011-07-11T07:56:08.260+08:00Packing for a Stranger<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwuHMYSUzhmBASvjFjQqlDSRR9aP8E0zkEaM4umdW8Q554UlCOIHmn4FRMIvRgEGbKOlGXrIb2JKp2D0sqfu8YpYggtKyf4QPFQnOkQOXvlHNhPexV-XoReF4UWGea3FKLSAr1NvsyX4-M/s1600/Yuan+Yuan+mar+2009-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwuHMYSUzhmBASvjFjQqlDSRR9aP8E0zkEaM4umdW8Q554UlCOIHmn4FRMIvRgEGbKOlGXrIb2JKp2D0sqfu8YpYggtKyf4QPFQnOkQOXvlHNhPexV-XoReF4UWGea3FKLSAr1NvsyX4-M/s200/Yuan+Yuan+mar+2009-1.jpg" width="169" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yuan Yuan 2009</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNCHb80Z2pmr1PY6t_gzusLZr2blmYGmLVscEs6KUCoz80RR-_BBQuPty5Z2zZgMSmoD8PL0LGiT2sC6ErUebmTc0elTNgxafCSb96_SRcFbBmpGrJb2yOiFsIfkHQd15oLuxvRvibM5kK/s1600/Yuan+Yuan+mar.20073-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNCHb80Z2pmr1PY6t_gzusLZr2blmYGmLVscEs6KUCoz80RR-_BBQuPty5Z2zZgMSmoD8PL0LGiT2sC6ErUebmTc0elTNgxafCSb96_SRcFbBmpGrJb2yOiFsIfkHQd15oLuxvRvibM5kK/s200/Yuan+Yuan+mar.20073-1.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yuan Yuan 2007</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxqvFxWVqkAtvgYKOh9W-DxtpJUURxtmrmvftGgKRUDi-K3IpmANNSemabC4f7PKGXLWaTNJa3Tn856CwKfLG8zPbkx-XKir1nQJ7lumDTnu3MRoz1S00XuSv_ETAMyW-PrR2LYelV-o2F/s1600/s%25C2%25A3%25C3%25A5s%25C2%25A3%25C3%25A5t%25C3%25A0%25C2%25BAt%25C3%25AB%25C3%25A7.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxqvFxWVqkAtvgYKOh9W-DxtpJUURxtmrmvftGgKRUDi-K3IpmANNSemabC4f7PKGXLWaTNJa3Tn856CwKfLG8zPbkx-XKir1nQJ7lumDTnu3MRoz1S00XuSv_ETAMyW-PrR2LYelV-o2F/s200/s%25C2%25A3%25C3%25A5s%25C2%25A3%25C3%25A5t%25C3%25A0%25C2%25BAt%25C3%25AB%25C3%25A7.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yuan Yuan 2010</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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Pictured are three precious pictures from an amazing orphanage who has documented the years we missed!<br />
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Just two weeks until we get to pick up Amelia. I'm beginning to worry about the plane ride already. So I spend my nerves packing. What do I pack for a child I do not know? Does she like dresses or pants? Does she like dolls or Legos? Will she want to wear her own familiar clothes? Will she let me help her bathe, and dress, or will she have been expected to do this on her own? How do I best express my motherhood through these choices? When all my children are so well-known by me I know how to pack. We've been doing lots of packing; living in Denver on our way to and from everywhere else, which will continue--thanks Rendy and Andy for always mopping for us:) I knew to pack swim stuff as it is a sport all three children agree on. Passionately. Always. Swimming works. But Drew doesn't feel great without his squishy goggles and a shirt to swim in. If I forget to pack pajamas no one cares, but if I left out an abundance of socks for Drew or a pair of flip-flops for Cora, life would not be quite as full.<br />
Spoiled. I guess Drew would call it that. But actually, it's my right and my love to know my children. A right and a love I think God could say a lot about. And so I wonder in the dark as I pack and repack a suitcase for our fourth child, who will be 5 so soon, and has had so many others packing for her for so long, but never me.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017827736604313680noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4564462099981523687.post-32495596693443150312011-05-23T21:09:00.001+08:002011-05-24T00:56:35.250+08:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAZVYyTopTdSEtthqeBtcf1alIaZwQo1vRLJIT6JZrJvY0L1lW7SXlssktmHIaLkFaDaeTsKFFNxaTH0McuOi6GKQYz_iiTpgrtrklM_3cHzeR4JXez3KuW21IQGYDgUbApRfFzncw_Y4c/s1600/DSCF0684.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAZVYyTopTdSEtthqeBtcf1alIaZwQo1vRLJIT6JZrJvY0L1lW7SXlssktmHIaLkFaDaeTsKFFNxaTH0McuOi6GKQYz_iiTpgrtrklM_3cHzeR4JXez3KuW21IQGYDgUbApRfFzncw_Y4c/s400/DSCF0684.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amelia's newest pictures</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs39tKkj3VhFQOd-zieY1lDF7exyfHCACb2Jw2mFG0b9TwyqWMvutr5T_JhKD4ZGgJEEad1FmJj8okg-YUBgzJZn1RovhAEq7cz45xsjH9v4vBq7iGJMcrbhvAics222laqRov97mhXC0t/s1600/Collages.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs39tKkj3VhFQOd-zieY1lDF7exyfHCACb2Jw2mFG0b9TwyqWMvutr5T_JhKD4ZGgJEEad1FmJj8okg-YUBgzJZn1RovhAEq7cz45xsjH9v4vBq7iGJMcrbhvAics222laqRov97mhXC0t/s400/Collages.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Boys...wow!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv7Cfzu_YPrctA2OLkYVnxlPJLjKuCn-r1SggG5icMaaSopZQaWbdtidwVaCFAOPb6TiWQGpZLhpyjd1eg1_nthOrBFGi99jjtqecuBe8q6aUc5mdtjASqYolAHSFh8KFO6-BNEUxJvBRV/s1600/DSCF0158-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv7Cfzu_YPrctA2OLkYVnxlPJLjKuCn-r1SggG5icMaaSopZQaWbdtidwVaCFAOPb6TiWQGpZLhpyjd1eg1_nthOrBFGi99jjtqecuBe8q6aUc5mdtjASqYolAHSFh8KFO6-BNEUxJvBRV/s400/DSCF0158-1.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: justify;">A picture from her orphanage, along with an explanation of her name which means a complete circle. The director wrote and said that she was named this because when she came to the orphanage she was in such a bad condition physically and that her health was so precarious that their wish for her was that she would be able to make it physically and hopefully even find a loving family. What a beautiful, caring orphanage she was blessed to be in. They also said that her surgeries have been done by China's best surgeons in the field in Shanghai's Children's Hospital. What an amazing story...Doctors here who reviewed her file said that if they didn't have video they would not have believed that the girl on paper could be the girl in the pictures. Someone is taking special care of her. Thank you!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017827736604313680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4564462099981523687.post-44026263692127777732011-05-19T05:18:00.000+08:002011-05-19T05:18:49.598+08:00New Picture of Yuan Yuan!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidOoztS4nnN9EYZClk1bFlo5HiwSWa4sFOvknbvWBuRz3AzEZQJ-Mxatjn6b604rgLnlcVVfNVEdSPCyJfhk08JLUl3EDcwfC0bq1rm_yr9f08GvaOe60BuCsi1IRfr_sKG-omYXE_I-Vj/s1600/IMG_1725%255B1%255D-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidOoztS4nnN9EYZClk1bFlo5HiwSWa4sFOvknbvWBuRz3AzEZQJ-Mxatjn6b604rgLnlcVVfNVEdSPCyJfhk08JLUl3EDcwfC0bq1rm_yr9f08GvaOe60BuCsi1IRfr_sKG-omYXE_I-Vj/s320/IMG_1725%255B1%255D-1.JPG" width="315" /></a></div>A wonderful lady who had the chance to visit Yuan Yuan's orphanage in April shared this pic--and a heart-warming smile which is a wonderful addition to our little collection of pictures and forms that define our little girl for now! Doesn't she look comfortable in that smile. So glad she's had enough experience at joy that she knows how to do that! Praying for your child's safety when you've never met them and you've never seen where they are is so, so hard!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017827736604313680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4564462099981523687.post-69648760231476322612011-05-07T07:26:00.007+08:002011-05-07T07:39:09.435+08:00<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh3ZinkOc5CVD7EkgdUuFHRwShzoFzbnjEvwgdUr6bGzrXrGOLbqZv61PsNn5GeWrai97KUMIU40_IcvuIoFVpOh48eH91O7bADbVPdOQuBl-ae7KQ0Ig9neDIvijkZ4RELtyDPPzXGs78/s1600/IMG_2849.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh3ZinkOc5CVD7EkgdUuFHRwShzoFzbnjEvwgdUr6bGzrXrGOLbqZv61PsNn5GeWrai97KUMIU40_IcvuIoFVpOh48eH91O7bADbVPdOQuBl-ae7KQ0Ig9neDIvijkZ4RELtyDPPzXGs78/s400/IMG_2849.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Craziness and Chaos</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-m3yaOT28nJ2SGLs8TtfQwaWwA7T-DRw-DAOvvSrt3XlSEmiyDbDuiQ-0vgF2iTvfxK-MsD6U5CUtvd7qkXM_rxLVciLEM5-ZrNEcx6So7gWxL-Fjtn6n7WSlnGCMP8ewSSY7gZUXQ898/s1600/IMG_2843.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-m3yaOT28nJ2SGLs8TtfQwaWwA7T-DRw-DAOvvSrt3XlSEmiyDbDuiQ-0vgF2iTvfxK-MsD6U5CUtvd7qkXM_rxLVciLEM5-ZrNEcx6So7gWxL-Fjtn6n7WSlnGCMP8ewSSY7gZUXQ898/s640/IMG_2843.JPG" width="640" /><span style="background-color: #e06666;"></span></a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxU8se6mPCG4GwHm2zVY4ALd-3Az69QoCmitzrhgom0bAyGHG66MDZaD7043OqrPZA1bgdthBQ5KB3ozcrshrtrEYXB0pHQynHwzII4QoPKuShWixs3dztGMfTur893f7afU0xImbjjV-F/s1600/DSC_0048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxU8se6mPCG4GwHm2zVY4ALd-3Az69QoCmitzrhgom0bAyGHG66MDZaD7043OqrPZA1bgdthBQ5KB3ozcrshrtrEYXB0pHQynHwzII4QoPKuShWixs3dztGMfTur893f7afU0xImbjjV-F/s400/DSC_0048.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alex, Andrew, Colin, Drew & Sky</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Chaos brings cousins, or was it the other way around?</span></span></b><br />
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</div><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Either way, and yes it went both ways the last month was different to say the least. The tragedy of Japan brought this family a special gift: The Dyer family, Michael excluded got to come visit, as refugees, but still it felt like a vacation to us:) And so we packed in as many fun things as we could, the Dunns were even gracious enough to adopt two new children in celebration of the event and it has been fun getting to know them. I'm going to share some pics of Kate and William's Wedding tea with all of the girl cousins, a welcoming party for Burtukin and Almaz, and an Easter photo session in the park...Enjoy.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDB_QqQdrpfrbqEL5vhGu83M70VXP-DvrIFWZ65EXjE7NmAB4VuZ-1ZGFr-275Jt2zryk5OXxKvUZTK-Zn3FuKTaO0Yhi5C9m7ZC7MomEDzA3YXaJjwroPyAbZdWHDbUO6ayjkCkef5S1N/s1600/DSC_0271.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDB_QqQdrpfrbqEL5vhGu83M70VXP-DvrIFWZ65EXjE7NmAB4VuZ-1ZGFr-275Jt2zryk5OXxKvUZTK-Zn3FuKTaO0Yhi5C9m7ZC7MomEDzA3YXaJjwroPyAbZdWHDbUO6ayjkCkef5S1N/s400/DSC_0271.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Princess Reagan</td></tr>
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</span></span></b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYtbZ9a3eAjvuR5iKj9caxAybv3bHyD9rXiEK0VWmP8mHz1Qeqbjpg0YFP6wg_jCcv0BZE6tR9AwAiuhHVZ9dKHctfioM05oCHr-2HkRbhrhhwssomgvFhQk85iGYR_LUFogYfFxwYTkkb/s1600/IMG_2793.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYtbZ9a3eAjvuR5iKj9caxAybv3bHyD9rXiEK0VWmP8mHz1Qeqbjpg0YFP6wg_jCcv0BZE6tR9AwAiuhHVZ9dKHctfioM05oCHr-2HkRbhrhhwssomgvFhQk85iGYR_LUFogYfFxwYTkkb/s400/IMG_2793.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Andrew & Cora</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk18Sxaq037-J6Y2m-0fZnIAbcjNFB2eAYrFZkdSeKeG40dzEoEQc_QmeKTEk6E-GUSRP0x4Pl3_Oqm1AqurWxn46aS3keiSEqlxoCw6hWoIwcBCvbhb9fxLdsAm0q666ukz09b0mayFHT/s1600/DSC_0260.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk18Sxaq037-J6Y2m-0fZnIAbcjNFB2eAYrFZkdSeKeG40dzEoEQc_QmeKTEk6E-GUSRP0x4Pl3_Oqm1AqurWxn46aS3keiSEqlxoCw6hWoIwcBCvbhb9fxLdsAm0q666ukz09b0mayFHT/s400/DSC_0260.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTfi0Pfbjc1DIzXcLgpU-gTVO7YX-Xf792i-zdvhsfQoenchFiI4Vnml4tcWS8osQeR6heX_VaUPmz3HBfMIbYhwUBdeniyPt8BH3z0Eax8n4PhfgcuOy9cl5ehMdyf9VvReTW-z1TbJ7f/s1600/DSC_0274.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTfi0Pfbjc1DIzXcLgpU-gTVO7YX-Xf792i-zdvhsfQoenchFiI4Vnml4tcWS8osQeR6heX_VaUPmz3HBfMIbYhwUBdeniyPt8BH3z0Eax8n4PhfgcuOy9cl5ehMdyf9VvReTW-z1TbJ7f/s400/DSC_0274.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kristine and her friend from University</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNVwAnCtFra4-NFvMzu2F7YWG_Slm89g8egtYqihBpXAUMpVH-Ih1jIXPHU0ACCBAagUdnKIlt7W9XD_vjz0o3zD0u37HIvnjnf3-NfX__cq07-ORsE1i3Qup8h5fDUIJrml7Pxl0Hgf6s/s1600/DSC_0405.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNVwAnCtFra4-NFvMzu2F7YWG_Slm89g8egtYqihBpXAUMpVH-Ih1jIXPHU0ACCBAagUdnKIlt7W9XD_vjz0o3zD0u37HIvnjnf3-NfX__cq07-ORsE1i3Qup8h5fDUIJrml7Pxl0Hgf6s/s400/DSC_0405.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amy and Kristine</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbkXQjoy9n2OgAviHYeR4RjdEaPxdQNSsVXwrSWiRUYMCV-e-DsWyNP2oXtuGCfzhEYxxBvDyFmRcSx4Lj92p_UKiDnCthxQE6-lxje9SA8m0hd97qQOJJAoNx95fNWZWHtBKganT9Zo3W/s1600/DSC_0299.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbkXQjoy9n2OgAviHYeR4RjdEaPxdQNSsVXwrSWiRUYMCV-e-DsWyNP2oXtuGCfzhEYxxBvDyFmRcSx4Lj92p_UKiDnCthxQE6-lxje9SA8m0hd97qQOJJAoNx95fNWZWHtBKganT9Zo3W/s400/DSC_0299.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Princess Party</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcUHFgqxcaYgvLBVU-pR0dlsGWmG5vLhNHBLGZhmBAhLaTeQk92CazO_s-dJ7H7jPw_bOg6jekj6y32ybfrdm0Xqqn5AuZuRnA_iGmRJQzhjCxPF2ivRX7c0rOesYJ9ZKT34H3dap0E34q/s1600/DSC_0317.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcUHFgqxcaYgvLBVU-pR0dlsGWmG5vLhNHBLGZhmBAhLaTeQk92CazO_s-dJ7H7jPw_bOg6jekj6y32ybfrdm0Xqqn5AuZuRnA_iGmRJQzhjCxPF2ivRX7c0rOesYJ9ZKT34H3dap0E34q/s400/DSC_0317.JPG" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grandma Sell at the tea party</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbmGZ0ckdc8uMQHpcXf67YqCn65zYNkoW9w4-kQMvrXxhsKWX99dKxvyqRqqhSn01nvjnFvvQuIWawWaksFs76AA2QMn0KyFWD33P1PjWGeOpbSZsA3TERf0f6AOTLn84cMl5UvsyzqGI2/s1600/DSC_0273.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbmGZ0ckdc8uMQHpcXf67YqCn65zYNkoW9w4-kQMvrXxhsKWX99dKxvyqRqqhSn01nvjnFvvQuIWawWaksFs76AA2QMn0KyFWD33P1PjWGeOpbSZsA3TERf0f6AOTLn84cMl5UvsyzqGI2/s400/DSC_0273.JPG" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Almaz and Reagan</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt66X29zql0eGbieWMgk06praZmpvPC8iUnUjC6DV7UYveElUgt4yRYb2MxUgJot_G8cE9-_V0sZzrx-AwWhusks8oj57kZGU5FRnwxMNCp3BJBQBFHN7KTZyf99mDUms7Ib4l7jYbrB13/s1600/DSC_0285.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt66X29zql0eGbieWMgk06praZmpvPC8iUnUjC6DV7UYveElUgt4yRYb2MxUgJot_G8cE9-_V0sZzrx-AwWhusks8oj57kZGU5FRnwxMNCp3BJBQBFHN7KTZyf99mDUms7Ib4l7jYbrB13/s400/DSC_0285.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Princesses</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTganwnhlMrABbDyafkNGC_-pzX7Fo7v2tuqK-bzDVpebupRGGZNzKYirDHVxFnox3U-NhgvmS4eCRBoUhWm8l8bLmTbFeqi_ATtFYg49gveaTyNvAy1t2C4QYA-LPr_xI6MDZmiaWtdSC/s1600/DSC_0280.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="408" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTganwnhlMrABbDyafkNGC_-pzX7Fo7v2tuqK-bzDVpebupRGGZNzKYirDHVxFnox3U-NhgvmS4eCRBoUhWm8l8bLmTbFeqi_ATtFYg49gveaTyNvAy1t2C4QYA-LPr_xI6MDZmiaWtdSC/s640/DSC_0280.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Olivia</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihWCVvcjkE-bepIrxc-IrKmlQH04bqbekn4wH0l8JV2AYb2YxUjpO8s8oF-TOnnJWUGFO-HAs4z_Wyo_ov8E0D-MHRVrcINtR7cFSAxAgpTXmrZVCT7IgtPMulx4rWWTjxFC3Xlil5Jl8J/s1600/DSC_0293.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="325" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihWCVvcjkE-bepIrxc-IrKmlQH04bqbekn4wH0l8JV2AYb2YxUjpO8s8oF-TOnnJWUGFO-HAs4z_Wyo_ov8E0D-MHRVrcINtR7cFSAxAgpTXmrZVCT7IgtPMulx4rWWTjxFC3Xlil5Jl8J/s400/DSC_0293.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Almaz and Burtukin</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0YccxETh59aJnaAEqvW1OG-pNrO8lJ7SHnFJg05vkO_TD_N6f0G_no4MRdTp4CwEvUW7OqYuGPR41G4hPscByZV4H7sVTDIS_CImqgudcU3vuVkQgGJ7ja43a-rT4Koi0ztkQEbUXrkcc/s1600/IMG_2786.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0YccxETh59aJnaAEqvW1OG-pNrO8lJ7SHnFJg05vkO_TD_N6f0G_no4MRdTp4CwEvUW7OqYuGPR41G4hPscByZV4H7sVTDIS_CImqgudcU3vuVkQgGJ7ja43a-rT4Koi0ztkQEbUXrkcc/s400/IMG_2786.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colin & Sky</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKw8cg7Ff1Xwt0xttHN_c9ZUfWun1F8EHbZbFyGD4ZAqCb4PmB6jXesqMdKjNyZBmsyd_FaW8HcLeTKsajrcK36HSpeEUSC3Op75egqbwdwx70NHGIjPjuLnr6Rth6B3_23OoJYKKxi59F/s1600/IMG_2868.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKw8cg7Ff1Xwt0xttHN_c9ZUfWun1F8EHbZbFyGD4ZAqCb4PmB6jXesqMdKjNyZBmsyd_FaW8HcLeTKsajrcK36HSpeEUSC3Op75egqbwdwx70NHGIjPjuLnr6Rth6B3_23OoJYKKxi59F/s400/IMG_2868.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And that's how we spent April!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017827736604313680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4564462099981523687.post-43242389261291800732011-04-26T07:19:00.000+08:002011-04-26T07:19:32.271+08:00Happy Easter!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdpLXBewvm2FYExX421CiKB_D3n2sVMhB9lEKpBsIUYzdP4ko7JiRVFq04cj9Y51B3r6Ayvf69yOpVRotjmPSAQjaHY7RxJxxuKaZ3_dL6oGTKIuemnIoMSncoeGAqdvIis11BhSoLVn0N/s1600/DSC_0260.JPG"><img style="CLEAR: both; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdpLXBewvm2FYExX421CiKB_D3n2sVMhB9lEKpBsIUYzdP4ko7JiRVFq04cj9Y51B3r6Ayvf69yOpVRotjmPSAQjaHY7RxJxxuKaZ3_dL6oGTKIuemnIoMSncoeGAqdvIis11BhSoLVn0N/s400/DSC_0260.JPG" border="0" /></a><div style='clear:both; text-align:LEFT'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017827736604313680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4564462099981523687.post-41786244563873336442011-03-15T23:44:00.001+08:002011-03-16T04:43:44.244+08:00Perspectives<div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">You know those days when you seem to be floating between reality and unreality? When the spinning in your head outweigh the reality of gravity and the day's events?</div><div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">I had one of those days recently. I turned on to a one way street the wrong way, and my children didn't even notice, nor did I. And then the cars coming at me kept moving over into the other lane and it felt all wrong. In China we always drive on the side of the road that is convenient so it took me a minute to realize my gross misjudgment.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi38jE5T8jzNfkC6fgBmQarv6tfTAHwpgQtrWIi3DuNyyHhYZz6D5JWwhTCMaW8D8-OBcruIXrYCoHrZqxiwWMyhKMDhHBtUXOOwcEPHDuQtYXViJucSXw97MDYubiwr8FLCpvOZd7LjR1S/s1600/IMG_2584.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi38jE5T8jzNfkC6fgBmQarv6tfTAHwpgQtrWIi3DuNyyHhYZz6D5JWwhTCMaW8D8-OBcruIXrYCoHrZqxiwWMyhKMDhHBtUXOOwcEPHDuQtYXViJucSXw97MDYubiwr8FLCpvOZd7LjR1S/s320/IMG_2584.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">In the middle of this day, I looked up at the mountain. It's close, I can see it out my window, it's 3,000 feet higher than my 5,000 and it is almost always covered with snow. But it doesn't seem 3,000 feet high. It just barely skims the top of my 6 ft. fence, and in my defense, I do understand perspective. This mountain is barely a couple of miles away...and yet it is snowing up there, and not down here, it is covered with snow, and here the snow comes and goes, melts or is blown away.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-tCqSLHBDrl_uy8LlI_dNH7YN1z4XIFwR8ioIh45rkx65i5Pbc7SkGQkKfv6SGVYipQcldwSSHVThdI-XcP3xroVclV2K_0eRCC46u_o6ZuVYN8m3c1-auI-mwLnruXDL4jCiAgLsXZk6/s1600/DSC_9765.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-tCqSLHBDrl_uy8LlI_dNH7YN1z4XIFwR8ioIh45rkx65i5Pbc7SkGQkKfv6SGVYipQcldwSSHVThdI-XcP3xroVclV2K_0eRCC46u_o6ZuVYN8m3c1-auI-mwLnruXDL4jCiAgLsXZk6/s320/DSC_9765.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">My life is full of these little perspective anomalies, my oldest child is almost as tall as me, and without any of the maturity it takes to be that tall. He is still so young and naive and did I mention young.</div><div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">I am in my home town and desperately home sick for my <b>not-home-towns</b>, all of them, any of them, except for Laramie, Wyoming or Columbia, S. Carolina (Can anyone be home sick for Columbia, S. Carolina?) But Moscow, Seoul, Taiyuan...and even Yangqu (pronounce it like it looks and you'll get an idea of the kind of place it is).</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">And then suddenly the never-ending Winter, which to me always feels never-ending suddenly became Spring and the kids played outside all day, and even reminded me they should use sunscreen.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">And before anyone was awake I turned on the computer, waiting for some personal joy and instead I'm smacked in the face by cars floating into airports and bridges and buildings collapsing and burning, and not all that far from where my sister lives in Japan. And there is more of that sadness and chaos that only comes with disaster. Disaster in the biggest, Universal sense of the word. And death and burning and so much clean up that it boggles the mind to imagine.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbvLC0LdgBliHt7ZmkYxuwTsGIDnGnMqo02ErLNqwLVxnkFYyKucUZimpP7nZCKaZdlfQ12k56nYK_5q6gSZgqNU2Q4bD4rKaEX-064I_OXSpA3IZX5RUdyWvW-bPtN8e4a2XhZ7OlfNFC/s1600/Yuan+Yuan-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbvLC0LdgBliHt7ZmkYxuwTsGIDnGnMqo02ErLNqwLVxnkFYyKucUZimpP7nZCKaZdlfQ12k56nYK_5q6gSZgqNU2Q4bD4rKaEX-064I_OXSpA3IZX5RUdyWvW-bPtN8e4a2XhZ7OlfNFC/s320/Yuan+Yuan-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">And then another overwhelmingly emotional letter: We have a new family member, she is four years old and as cute as a button, and from the most beautiful province in China, or so they say! We hope to be able to travel to get her sometime around the beginning of summer, but we shall see! We don't have much to say about her, but that she looks loved and well-cared for which is such a relief and she looks tall--I could be wrong, but she was not a little petite Southern Chinese baby, at least from her two year old measurements. That's okay, she'll fit right in! Our name for her right now is <span style="color: #e06666; font-size: large;">Amelia Rain</span>...but it's still in the negotiation process:)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">And that's my upside down day. (I think Amelia might have righted it!)</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017827736604313680noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4564462099981523687.post-89045698044113246852011-02-25T00:36:00.000+08:002011-02-25T00:36:56.479+08:00"Ordinary Miracle"<div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">We've had a tumultuous several days. Mike had a bicycle accident and messed up his mouth, and thankfully nothing worse although I have wondered if his brain was detached a couple of times since then...but then I wondered that before too!</div><div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Andy, my sister Rendy's husband, has been in the hospital with a very serious case of pneumonia along with several complications, he has now made a turn for the better and we hope will be on the mend quickly.</div><div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"> We also have discovered, thanks to some amazing friends that A little girl we have been trying to adopt has been neglected due to paperwork and is still not available for international adoption although the paperwork was begun a year ago. How many more children wait for families who in turn wait for these children because a pencil-pusher has no passion?<br />
I was touched this morning by a cup of rooibos tea and a Sarah McClachlan song, Ordinary Miracle. And inspired to Hope. And inspired to Give. And I was reminded of a few words that could add passion to my day, and maybe yours: </div><div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="font-size: small;">"<span style="color: #e06666;">I have seen the business that God has given to the children of man to be busy with. </span></span></div><div style="color: #e06666; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="font-size: small;">He has made <span style="font-size: large;">everything beautiful</span> in His time. </span></div><div style="color: #e06666; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="font-size: small;">Also, He has put <span style="font-size: large;">eternity into man's heart</span>, </span></div><div style="color: #e06666; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="font-size: small;">yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from beginning to end. </span></div><div style="color: #e06666; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="font-size: small;">I perceived that there is nothing better for them </span></div><div style="color: #e06666; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="font-size: small;">than <span style="font-size: large;">to be joyful and to do good</span> as long as they live; </span></div><div style="color: #e06666; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="font-size: small;">also that everyone should eat and drink and <span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; font-size: large;">take pl</span></span><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; font-size: large;">easure <span style="font-size: small;">in all his toil</span></span><span style="font-size: small;">--</span></div><div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="color: #e06666; font-size: small;">this is </span><span style="color: #e06666; font-size: large;">God's gift</span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #e06666;"> to man</span>." Ecclesiastes 3:10-13</span></div><div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">So we listen and we learn and we love and we take joy in each moment God gives. The snow in winter (even though it's cold and I am weary of the many layers wrapping the kids each morning and the mud on my kitchen floor) the sun in summer (and I can't for the life of me think why I wouldn't enjoy this one) and each human passing through our lives, the unlovable even more than the lovable one. And I learn to listen to the ache in my gut, that I think might be that nugget of eternity He planted there.And I must listen for the world is shouting for so much of me that I cannot possibly stop and enjoy if I do not stop to listen. The Chinese character for listen is beautiful and oh, so descriptive: </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2idrXnbKOtbL50EmaEaXcjQ4G_uwenLUIVRfmHFAGbk-izN3IdhHDQYnL8xzni3RH0wlSwgr9eqSceONamFx5twNaEt8EKEtBjEkp3YoNXKEpKSfvyHqHedWjqLigc1KM1uJUPfu3fNWR/s1600/Chinese+listen.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="98" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2idrXnbKOtbL50EmaEaXcjQ4G_uwenLUIVRfmHFAGbk-izN3IdhHDQYnL8xzni3RH0wlSwgr9eqSceONamFx5twNaEt8EKEtBjEkp3YoNXKEpKSfvyHqHedWjqLigc1KM1uJUPfu3fNWR/s200/Chinese+listen.png" width="200" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">The character for ear is written over a character for king, you can guess what that means. The character for eye is placed over the character for heart. We must listen first, and then watch with all our heart if we are going to hear beauty, eternity. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Hoping you find beauty and something eternal in your moments today</span>!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017827736604313680noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4564462099981523687.post-60787223347675938782010-06-01T11:16:00.002+08:002010-06-01T11:34:39.315+08:00Getting Organized<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpPRRETdJlsSPvVSz_Yx0dorvwVNb64AWpF93sAQ2sieXrkq3vjPhg_Z_nylhtEB1mP6XBE-2x96W5FlEYjI3xGlDeENx_mti5U8T03bsBqHhgHSIntrMV-v0eZ6BjfE1GqZ-IFVms1eDO/s1600/IMG_1269.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpPRRETdJlsSPvVSz_Yx0dorvwVNb64AWpF93sAQ2sieXrkq3vjPhg_Z_nylhtEB1mP6XBE-2x96W5FlEYjI3xGlDeENx_mti5U8T03bsBqHhgHSIntrMV-v0eZ6BjfE1GqZ-IFVms1eDO/s400/IMG_1269.JPG" width="225" /></a></div><div align="left" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">The kids have a bit of Spring Fever, enjoying everything with a little too much energy and a little too much creativity these days. Lots of playtimes end like this: "Okay, time to go outside!" I don't remember, but I'm thinking this was just such a day...</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">"Truly wonderful the mind of a child is."</span></div><div style="text-align: left;">--YODA</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017827736604313680noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4564462099981523687.post-32679302214249790492010-05-30T14:10:00.000+08:002010-05-30T14:17:02.067+08:00Beginning Again<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">We started a blog years ago, and for the last three we just stopped. We have many good excuses that we would like to spend time posting, but we won't. So, just to say, we would love to have you follow our lives if you care to. We are in the middle of two very important processes right now:</span><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">1)Planning a 2-yr stint in the States while Ashley studies Social Work, and</span><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">2)Adopting our 4th child...</span><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">I must say that planning a couple years of study is nothing compared to what the process of adoption is and after we are really able to call a new little girl from China our very own, applying for school and studying again will, comparatively, be a piece of cake. Don't get me wrong the process to adopt is SO worth it, we're just still on this side of that reality, so sometimes we may complain a bit!</span><br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017827736604313680noreply@blogger.com0