Leaving Paradise

Here 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!

New Bookstore!

Old Governor's Mansion from the time that Germany controlled Qingdao

Another shipping port, not as big as Singapore's but almost

Laoshan is the part of the mountain range outside of Qingdao

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.

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.

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.

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: http://www.ldieducation.org/ and contact us.

We covet your prayers as we make this big transition,

Mike & Ashley

Email: mxstern@gmail.com

Skype: mxstern 

Facebook: Michael Stern or Ashley Sell Stern 

Blog: http://northernchina.blogspot.sg/

Goodbyes: The impossible checklist

My Checklist ie; what my mind does instead of sleeping

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. 

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:

• Will we get our visa paperwork while still in Singapore or will we have to traipse off to DC?
• Will the kids survive another displacement and new place, new friends, new home, new food...
• Will we need ____ in China or regret that we wasted space hauling it?
• 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? 
• Will the baby ever potty train? (Not that I care, but would love to pack less)
• How will Amelia respond to moving back into her birth culture? 
• When will we feel settled? When will we be home?
• Will we ever see some of these amazing people again? 
• 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.
• Will these curtains, sheets, pictures... fit?
• What will life in Qingdao be? How will it be to return to China and not be in Shanxi?

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. 

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.

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.

Waves can be the most fun you'll ever have!

The crashing unknown 
is exhilarating.

Savoring the journey

The hike up the formidable staircase, is just as much fun as arriving.

The mysterious monster that just might bite, is the story we tell our friends.

Belief only during the calm, belies my lack of knowledge of the deep.

I either need to get this tired, or become this trusting

Resting this deeply only follows a knowledge of the one who holds me.

A child who's lost her faith

I always search the ground for those things that will make me stumble, the hand never caught me
I never look at the sky in the swing, for the one time I did the arms did not comfort.
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.
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.
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.
I sleep with eyes open, the dark has not been peppered with gentle late-night kisses, and one more tucking-in.
I trip, because concerned about behind me, I look over my shoulder constantly. You have not always had my back.
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.
I weep at the sight of a doctor, I faced so many all alone.
I speak of friends and their jibes and habits with obsession. Someday I will be like them, carefree.
I panic when you walk away, for five long years they walked away and never came back.
I play, but frantically, as if it's the thing I must do, the way back to joy.

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?

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? 

Amelia balancing with friends, Eden and Gabe

Monday Everyday

orphan fact sheet

In orphanages it's Monday Everyday.
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?

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.

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).

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...

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.

There are amazing foster homes where life is celebrated, like Little Flower, Star Fish Foster Home, New Day Foster Home, Blue Sky Healing Home, 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 Stuck 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.

See Current International Policy for insight into policies that are curbing international adoptions around the world