Remember how our family wanted to buy some chickens? World Vision, the featured service organization for the month of May, was the group to make that happen.

Not only does this incredible organization help purchase animals for families who need a hand out of poverty, they help connect children with sponsors, as well. Our family sponsors an eight-year-old girl from Bolivia named Jhovana. A sponsored child with World Vision is provided with things like clean drinking water, nutritious food, and an education. This organization not only helps the sponsored children, but provides for the whole community, as well.

I’m honored to have a guest post today from someone whose life work is changing lives.I met Lindsey Talerico-Hedren last year through a connection at World Vision. I love Lindsey because she shares my heart for missions and love for children.Let me tell you a little more about Lindsey.

Lindsey Talerico-Hedren worked at World Vision’s headquarters in the U.S. for nearly three years as a social media specialist – integrating new media and communications with marketing, media and public relations. Her work there took her to Bolivia in August 2011 as part of a new blogging initiative. She has three sponsored children… Memory in Zambia, Noelia in Bolivia, and Arminda in Bolivia. Lindsey met Noelia and Arminda in person. In February 2012, she moved with her husband to Auckland, New Zealand to take the first ever social media position at World Vision’s headquarters there. 

Here’s Lindsey:

Nine Months Too Long

It’s been nine months since we were in Bolivia. Nine months since we nervously gathered on a last conference call before meeting in person. Nine months since we packed our bags and boarded our planes. Nine months since we made monthly financial commitments to support children we never met.

In August last year, eleven of us set out to write a new story together as bloggers and compassionaries. We were going to Bolivia to witness the work of World Vision first hand and to blog every mile of the way.

We were taking a flight of faith, believing in new experiences and opportunity. Believing in friendship and trust. Believing in the work of World Vision.

It was everything we could’ve imagined and so, so much more.

We met schools of children who gathered weekly to lead one another in a devotional time. Lizbeth is only 13 years old, but as she spoke quietly from Matthew 13 telling the parable of the mustard seed, she captivated her classmate’s attention and ours.

We witnessed hope and happiness at a World Vision center for children with special needs. Weeping parents thanked us, people they never met, for giving them a place where they and their children were accepted and cared for in their community, where they were no longer the focal point of community gossip when their children were considered not “normal.” I sat beside fidgety, excited, smiley Arturo when hearing aids were fitted for his ears for the first time, a gift from the donations of child sponsors.

I cried as I watched Celestina cry for the hardships her family has overcome. I saw pain fall in tears down her face as she told us her neighbors thought her son Wilfram was slow because she must have drank too much while pregnant. I saw love in her tears as she told us nurses discovered Wilfram had a heart defect during his annual health check-up as a sponsored child. I saw fear drip from her eyes as she prayed the prayer she repeated to herself while she waited during his heart surgery. That surgery gave him a new life. When I met Wilfram, he ran long and hard and laughed the entire way. Child sponsorship gave him that surgery.

We met heaps of sponsored children, including our own. My heart melted when I met Noelia, just as it does now every time I think of her. This was the precious eight-year-old girl I sponsored from a webpage on my couch in Puyallup, WA. Weeks later I sat next this petite beauty, sharing a stairwell with her mother and father. She likes basketball and the color pink. I brought her a doll, nail polish, hair ribbons, stickers… but of all the gifts, she liked the crayons the most. An artist, maybe she’ll be one day.

We listened through stories that made our hearts ache. We were on the bus when our trip host, a beautiful young communications officer with World Vision’s office in Bolivia, told us the story of a little girl whose parents were trying to give away. Since no one wanted her, they left her. Later, a woman was walking by. She had no money, three kids, a very sick husband, and living in conditions most of us can’t even fathom. She found the little girl eating noodles from the ground and asked whose daughter she was. But no one knew. She took her home and adopted her. She had next to nothing, but she had the heart of a mother to give this little girl.

The moment I heard that story I recognized who the little girl was. In one of many preparations made before this trip, I scoured our photo library in search of photos from Bolivia we could use to in our announcement blog posts and to create banners should readers be inspired to sponsor a child. There was this photo:

It was taken six months earlier and its caption spoke of a little girl who was adopted by a neighbor family. I remembered she was a sponsored child and her new family has a pig farm started from a small gift of two piglets from World Vision’s Gift Catalog.

It was the little girl from our banners. It was the little girl whose story I was hearing.

Arminda was ten times more angelic and charming than in her photo, if you can imagine that. She has this giggle that makes you wish you saw what she saw in all of us – we must have been awfully silly looking as we awed at her family’s pigs. I knew the photo I had seen before of her was taken awhile back, but on the day we met her she wore the exact same pale pink plaid dress. I asked Andrea, our trip host, why that was, perhaps she had no other clothes. Andrea told me Arminda had other outfits, but this was her best. She knew we were coming and she wore her best for us.

I’ve had this growing suspicion for quite some time that World Vision was going to crawl (not just into my career, but also) into my heart and never leave. And it’s happened… but the World Vision that is forever planted in my heart is not paperwork; it’s not Excel sheets; it’s not campaign headlines; it’s not Facebook updates — even if these things are what help create my daily work.

It’s Lizbeth, Arturo, Celestina, Noelia and Arminda. They are my World Vision, my small contribution, my reminder that no amount is ever too little.

It’s been nine months since our stories collided with the stories of those we met in Bolivia.

Nine months since we looked into their eyes, held their hands, were welcomed into their homes as we listened to their struggles and cheered for their dreams.

Nine months since we embarked on a journey through uncharted blogging territory dragging our nerves behind us and letting go of our naivety along the way.

Nine months since we laughed and played with children whose impoverished circumstances know no bounds for joy.

Nine months since we soaked up the presence of God in Bolivia.

It has been nine months too long.

Connect with Lindsey:
Lindsey blogs to write, share and find community.
@lindseytalerico - http://lindseytalerico.com

Carol

It was pure jealousy that resulted in the new competition getting pushed out the window. But it was true friendship that brought him home again.

Yep. I’m talking about Buzz and Woody.

While Woody didn’t appreciate Buzz’s arrival, they soon realized they “had a friend” in each other. I find it funny that both Buzz and Woody were male toys because the jealousy factor is usually most prevalent in female relationships. Fingernail scratching, hair snatching…we can be vicious at times.

Have you ever struggled to find a girlfriend or group of girlfriends who you can always count on? Ones who always accept you for who you are, but challenge you, as well, to be more?

Mary Snyder did, and she has written an incredible book about girlfriends and combined it with grace and God to create a work that will leave you grinning. When Mary’s publisher sent me a copy of God, Grace, & Girlfriends, I couldn’t put it down.

Her book is divided into two parts. The first section is about finding friends. Sometimes, it’s harder than it seems. But Mary gives practical tips for creating lifelong friendships. Part two is my favorite. Titled Girlfriends, Gatherings and Getaways, it suggests lots of fun activities to do with your BFFs.

One example is to plan a Gardening Girls’ Day Out. Mary suggests you grab some pots, soil, and your garden gloves to spend a day in the dirt together. She provides an actual list of things you’ll need for setup and supplies. Then she offers some discussion questions to take your day out to a spiritual level. I love it! The gardening day is only one of many activities.

For actual getaways, Mary even provides a list of actual places that would be good options, with a description of each. This is a practical guide that I will return to again and again. For those of you interested in planning a full-scale retreat, she gives great details and lists about how to make it happen.

I teach the ladies Bible study group for my Sunday school class. God, Grace, and Girlfriends has given me lots of ideas and inspiration for planning some fun summer activities for the ladies. With such practical advice, this book is written in the light, often humorous, style, reading it feels like you are talking to a girlfriend.

So, here is some great news. Mary’s publisher has provided me with a copy of the book to give away! And because I want you to be able to spend time with your girlfriends, I am adding a $10 Starbucks card. Coffee AND a book. What could be better?

HOW TO WIN:
You will have the opportunity to earn multiple chances to win. They are listed below:
1. Leave a comment on this post telling me what you and your girlfriends like to do for fun. = 1 Entry

2. Pin this post to Pinterest. (You must let me know you’ve done it in the comment section or I won’t be able to count it.) = 1 Entry

3. Share this post on Facebook. (You must let me know you’ve done it in the comment section or I won’t be able to count it.) = 1 Entry

4. Sign up for my email subscription. (Be sure you activate the link after you get a confirmation email from Feed Burner. Once again, let me know you’ve done this.) = 1 Entry

5. Go to the May Service Calendar post HERE and print the calendar for your family. (You must let me know you’ve done it in the comment section or I won’t be able to count it.) = 1 Entry

6. Follow me on Twitter or Tweet about the contest. (You must let me know you’ve done it in the comment section or I won’t be able to count it.) = 1 Entry

7. Go comment on Mary’s post HERE and leave her an encouraging comment. (You must let me know you’ve done it in the comment section or I won’t be able to count it.) = 1 Entry

Okay, that’s a lot of ways to win. You can do one, several or all of them. Just be sure to let me know which ones you’ve done so I can count them as entries.

This contest will close on Friday, May 18 at 11:59 p.m. I will announce the winner on Monday, May 21.

*New Hope publishers did provide me with a promotional copy of the book, but the opinions listed here are my own.

Carol

You know when you flip the light switch in the bathroom first thing in the morning and your eyes sting because the light is so bright? That’s the way it was with my dreams.

They were always there – the dreams –building and stretching as God molded and shaved away pieces, fashioning who I was to be. But it wasn’t until the light, the bright light, that I could see and recognize them for what they were.

Paul had a bathroom light switch experience, too. Well, he was really Saul then. His blinding moment of light changed his life forever. I believe it’s that way with all of us. There is one defining moment, whether it’s one thing or the culmination and pinnacle of many, where we know what God’s created us to do. The knowledge is so dazzling, your first reaction is to close your eyes. But you can’t. You were blind, but now…

From that moment on, everything in the past seems so obvious. Of course, He was preparing you for this. To look back and identify the markers are enough to make your mouth drop.

At first, I couldn’t put a finger on my bright light moment. It could have been after reading a particular book. After finishing Bruce Wilkinson’s The Dream Giver, I thought my dream was to be published.

The desire in me so strong, I started writing devotions just for me and saved them in a safe place where no one could see. But you can’t be published if no one reads it. So I started a blog and signed up for a writer’s conference. Those steps of faith launched my writing journey.

Soon, I was published in a magazine. Then another. And another. Then came a book. It was as if I stumbled onto something, but my journey to write wasn’t by chance, for the pathway that led me there was easily recognizable in my rearview mirror. And then in the middle of writing a book proposal, somewhere in between writing a competitive market analysis and volunteering in a prison for research, my real light switch experience happened. I realized my dream wasn’t really to write, per se. My dream was to change lives, and many times that happened through the written word. God is in the business of changing lives and was asking me to join Him.

And that’s where my dream lies – in that process of change. While writing fuels much of it, sometimes the life adjustments come in different ways. Perhaps it’s changing the attitudes of the little people in my own home and sometimes it’s sending money for clean water and schoolbooks for my World Vision child. There are days when I teach and encourage men serving time for murder and others when I help a grandma wipe the ketchup off the floor at McDonald’s after she’s made a mess. There’s no task too big or too small when it comes to making a difference in someone’s life.

You see, I realized there was no fairy godmother to appear with sparkles and fairy dust when I finally had my name in print. It isn’t my name that’s important – it’s His.

I’m a mom of three that stays up too late every night and drinks too much coffee every morning. I’m not famous, and probably never will be. But that’s okay, because each day I’m choosing to live my dream, working to affect the lives of people around me – one word, one act of mercy, one let-you-in-front-of-me-in-the-grocery-store, one step out of my comfort zone at a time.

How about you? What has God placed in your heart?

________________________________________________________________________________

I’m linking up today with my sweet friend Lindsey Talerico-Hedren where she is posting about dreams. Come read her post So Long Old Dreams, Hello New Ones where you’ll also find a treasure chest of dream posts from other incredible bloggers.

Carol

“Wanna buy a chicken?”

Every family has a joke. One that no matter how many times it’s told, you can’t help but laugh. Other people look on and wonder what’s wrong with your kinfolk because the joke is obviously not that funny.

But they haven’t been at the Christmas parties where it’s uttered at just the right moment. They haven’t heard your grandfather tell it with a straight face. They don’t have the memories flood back each time the joke is told.

But you do.

I’m going to tell you my family’s joke. You can laugh if you want. You can poke fun. But none of that matters because, to my family, this one silly joke brings back many years of memories and laughs.

Here goes:

Do you know how to sell a deaf man a chicken?

YOU WANNA BUY A CHICKEN????!!!!!!

I promise it’s a lot funnier in person when you scream in the listener’s ear. So here’s the crazy thing – our family really DOES want to buy a chicken.

In an attempt to get my children more involved in helping others on a global scale, I poured through the gift catalog on the World Vision website and found chickens. For $25 you can purchase 2 chickens for a family in need. Those chickens will provide food and the chance for income as they produce eggs and more baby chicks.

So I grabbed a jar, put a picture on the front and told my kids about the idea. They loved it and immediately purged their piggy banks. Over the months that followed, I watched as my children would choose to give part of their birthday money and allowances and place it in the jar.

I never pushed because I wanted the kids to come to their own sense of “need to do something.” I wanted them to give because they wanted to, because the Holy Spirit was working in their own lives – not because I forced them. The thing about faith in God is it has to become your own before it works. You can’t scoot by on the faith of your parents. So dollar-by-dollar and quarter-by-quarter, they’ve raised the $25 to purchase the chickens.

Now a family somewhere in the world will receive the gift of chickens because of an eight-year-old girl and a ten-year-old boy. I think I’ll celebrate with a scrambled egg dinner, then I’ll let them look at the catalog to decide how they want to help next, but I’m crossing my fingers they choose to buy a sheep.

The funny thing about the chicken jar is for months I’ve walked past the jar on the kitchen counter, and each time I think, “You wanna buy a chicken???” And then I chuckle to myself and nod.

“Yep. I do!”

See below for SERVICE CALENDAR.

**Starting your own chicken jar is one of the ideas for this month’s service calendar.

Please click HERE to download the May Service Calendar.

Print it out and put it on your fridge to encourage your own family to get involved. Then encourage other families to join in by sharing this post and calendar on Facebook, Twitter and Pinterest. Remember change always starts with just one.

Don’t like chickens? Visit World Vision’s gift catalog HERE and pick out a different animal or choose to help build a well. There are lots of ideas to choose.

Carol

“Ugh, my hair needs cutting, and I look fat,” I spoke to the mirror while trying to make sense of the haystack of hair floating around my head.

“Ah-hem.” My husband cleared his throat and gave me the look. You know the one that says stop what you’re doing – now. His hand on my back; he spun me around, “I think you are beautiful. I’d like you to list me five things about yourself that you like.”

Crickets chirping…

The Cafe is running one of my posts again. This one is a great reminder. Join me for a re-run at the Cafe today and find out how I used praise to help my marriage. Click HERE to read the rest.

Carol

I knew when my son asked his father to marry another woman there was a problem.

He had it all figured out. “Dad, could you please take a second wife? I know it’s okay because Jacob in the Bible had two wives, Rachel and Leah, and God knew all about it. But when you pick one this time, could you make sure she likes dogs?”

Want to know how I handled this situation? Join me today at the Internet Cafe to find out. Click HERE to read the rest of my devotion. 

Carol

Dear Mother,

God sees you. I needed to tell you that. Yes, I’m talking to you. Yes, you. God knows your hurts. He hears your quiet sobs in the night.

It stormed here last night. The rain fell, and my baby cried. I paced the floor between her bed and mine. The well-worn path needed nothing to illuminate the way. My heart led. That’s the way of things when your child is sick.

I wanted you to know there’ll be nights like this…

Are you a mom? Are you exhausted? This letter is for you.

Click HERE to read the letter at 5 Minutes for Faith.

Carol

Are you eyes open yet? This week’s posts really leave me thinking about the orphans.

Defend the weak and the fatherless; uphold the cause of the poor and the oppressed. Psalm 82:3 NIV

Today I’d like to introduce you to another special lady who is in the process of adopting a sweet girl from India. Meet Michele Fort. She’s finding out adoption is risky business.

“Family freely assumes the risks…”

While reading and signing the 20-page contract sent from our adoption agency, I found myself zeroing in on one particular word in that phrase.
Risks.

The document stated that “international adoption is a complex process, often involving circumstances beyond the agency’s control…”

Risks.

Those things you spend your life trying to avoid because you know they could cause trouble or bring you unnecessary harm.

Risks.

Your lungs are at risk if you choose to smoke.

Overexposure to harmful UV rays increases your risk of developing skin cancer.

Not wearing a seat belt greatly increases the risk of being injured or killed in a car accident.

Investing all your money in the uncertain stock market could be a risk to your stable financial future.

If you use this particular medication, you are at risk for liver damage.

Danger:  Enter at your own risk.

risk - possibility of suffering harm or loss; potential peril; uncertain danger; presumed threat; chance of trouble

I admit my naivete.  I admit my lack of knowledge.  I admit I’ve thought adoption to be a lot of things.  But the word, “risk” had yet to cross my mind.  Until now.

I had to put the pen down.  I had to think, to really think over all of the possible risks the agency had just listed.  There were a lot.  A whole lot.  Including the whole darn thing following apart all together.

Bottom line:  there are no guarantees.

Not one.  Not even after all our paperwork is completed and mailed off.  Not even after all our fundraising and payments are processed.  Not even after all our wanting and waiting.

Adoption is a risky business.

At the bottom of the last page were two lines marked with an “X”.

My line:
Prospective Mother’s signature
X_______________________

My husband’s line:
Prospective Father’s signature
X_______________________

And above both lines, were these words,

“We have been informed…and freely accept the risks.”

Do we?  Do we freely and fully accept the risks?

Both of us stopped.  We held hands and we prayed.  We sought guidance from the One who called us to this journey in the first place.  And in that holy moment, peace prevailed and we were reminded of these simple facts:

Driving a car is risky.
Buying a home is risky.
Starting a new job is risky.
Making new friends is risky.
Giving my heart to another is risky.
Saying “I do” is risky.
Carrying a baby for nine months is risky.
Being a parent is risky.
Stepping out in faith is risky.
Loving big is risky.

“He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose.” ~Jim Elliot, missionary in Ecuador; lost his life by the Waodani tribe warriors

And yet even in the midst of all the possible risks, I rest in these constant certainties:

• Jesus promised, “I am with you, always” (Matthew 28:20).
• He said, “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you” (Hebrews 13:5).
• He will remain faithful, even when I am faithless. (2 Timothy 2:13).

“If anyone comes after me, he must deny himself, take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it. What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, and yet lose or forfeit his very self?”
~ Jesus

All of life is risky business. Period.

But if I never take the risk, how will I ever know the reward?

So I pick up my pen and I sign on the line.  Freely assuming and accepting the risks.  Knowing full-well that adoption is a risky business and we are entering at our own risk.

“If you’re not willing to give up everything, you’ve already lost.”
~ film, Act of Valor

Thanks Michele for sharing with us. Please take a moment to drop by Michele’s blog, Following the Forts, and see her adorable family. They are in the fund raising phase of their adoption. Did you know it costs around $30,000? Maybe you’ve read the posts this week and thought I care about the orphans but I can’t adopt a child. You can still be a part of blessing orphans by donating to a family who is adopting. Visit Michele’s blog to donate to her adoption to India or visit Give 1 Save 1 and help out a family there.

Carol

You are in for a real treat today. This is a guest post from my friend Missy. I started reading her when I first started blogging. We met several years back at a She Speaks conference, and she is just as funny and beautiful in person. What stood out most to me when we met was how genuine she was. I love it when people are real. Missy and her family are in the process of adopting a baby girl from Ethiopia. Please visit Missy’s blog It’s Almost Naptime to follow her adoption story and fall in love with the rest of her adorable family.

Now let’s hear from Missy:

I’ve got a confession to make: I’ve been boycotting all things orphan.

I only casually glance when facebook friends bring home their newly adopted children. Haven’t watched a gotcha video on YouTube in weeks, maybe months. My Africa reading list? Collecting dust.

This book, especially, I have boycotted. I stopped just a couple of chapters in. I knew it would be too painful to read the detailed descriptions of abandoned orphans in Ethiopia. I’d be in complete agony, wanting to go there now, to grab hold of just one of them now. Decided not to torture myself.

We thought we might have our daughter by now. Thought we would at least be close to having her sleep under our roof, in our arms. But our adoption has trickled to a crawl. Slow as molasses. Slower than Christmas. Insert any other annoying euphemism to describe how painfully long this process has taken and the disappointment and heartache that has ensued.

To cope, I’ve shut down emotionally. I can do that, if needed. Years of practice taught me that skill.

I’ve reminded myself that it is God’s timing several billion times. Decided to delight in the fact that I have serendipitous free time, for the first time in eight years, what with all four of my children in school. I’ve painted half the rooms in my house and have big plans for the rest. Organized many cabinets, even built a shelf in one. Got a much needed surgery done. Scheduled long neglected physical therapy appointments. Joined bible studies, prayer groups, the PTO. Met friends for lunch. Got a mani/pedi, right in the middle of the day.

I even convinced myself that this was a good thing, this delay. A gift. Some “me time” before I jump back into the me-less world of mothering an infant, especially an adopted infant.

Then tonight, I get a text from a dear friend, with long awaited and coveted information about the child she is finally about to meet. “He was abandoned in a market,” she writes. “Someone brought him to the orphanage. They gave him a name and a birthday. He was so malnourished, they were probably a year off. Think he’s 3, not 2.”

And the walls I’ve built up come tumbling down and pummel my heart out of its sleep state. As it awakens I remember why I turned it off. It was because these stories hurt.

Once I was shopping at Target and there was a little girl of about four years old, walking alone. I took note, then a minute later, when she was still alone, I walked closer, and stared. When I took my eyes off her for a quick second, I noticed that there were no less than three other women, all of us staring at her. Our mom-dars had all gone off, and from a safe distance, we had encircled her like a band of wild animals. We would not leave her until we knew she was safe. Finally she cried “Mommy!” and bounded away to a worried faced woman. Instantly the spell was broken, and all of us went back to sifting through sundresses or pocket tees.

Had a boogie man tried to approach that child, he would have had four women to contend with. Would we have let him take her had we any suspicions? Not on her life. Not on his life. Not on our lives. Is it because we were heroes? No. We were just mothers.

I vividly recall myself at her age, wandering in another Target unaware that I was even lost, when someone firmly gripped my arm and began to walk away with me. I tagged along unquestioningly, curious, until we appeared at the front counter where a man asked my name and paged my mother. The strange silent woman disappeared. She had rescued me from the unknown. Was she a hero? No. She was just a mother.

Another time, I was separated from my family at Galveston beach. Another strange woman grabbed my hand, talked to me about seashells as she walked me up and down the beach until I was claimed. Was she a hero? No. She was just a mother.

I picture another little boy, abandoned in a crowded place on the other side of the world. Tears stream down my face as I imagine how scared he must have been. I pray that if he has any memory from that day, the Lord will see fit to erase it. I praise Him that He has taken what was eaten by locusts and is restoring it here, with two parents who have labored so long and painfully for the opportunity to call this child their own.

But I wonder what happened, that day at the market. How many strangers passed by, not taking note of a crying, lonely toddler? But some noticed. Some strangers stared, and circled him, until one grabbed his hand, took him to the proper place, made sure he was not left prey to anyone who might wish him evil. Because Lord knows they are out there. The stranger who took his hand knew that they are out there. And the stranger rescued him.

Was that stranger a hero? No. But I bet you, I just bet you, she was a mother.

And now that child, who has fattened up and found his smile in an orphanage in Africa, will soon be held firmly by the hands of my friend and her husband. She has sacrificed more than the woman at the beach. She has spent a lot more than the women at Target. Is my friend a hero? No. She is just a mother.

There’s a lot of controversy about those of us who adopt thinking of ourselves as “rescuers” – there’s a lot of criticism for rich white people who “swoop in” (as if) and adopt poor brown babies. This mentality is probably contributing in part to the slowdown in Ethiopia now.

I get it – now, finally, over two years in this wretched process. I’ve been schooled. My innocence is gone. I’ve learned things about the adoption ‘industry’ that has made me literally want to throw up. And recently Walker and I watched this movie, which shows clearly that indeed, those people do exist. A certain celebrity and her questionably ethical adoptions have only perpetuated the stereotype of a brown skinned baby being the latest must-have accessory for the highly fashionable trendsetting white woman.

Do I think that we are “rescuing” our daughter?

Another confession: (deep sigh) (bracing myself) yeah. I believe fervently that orphanages are no place to raise children. I believe that even the most loving, well run orphanage is an institution, and God did not design the human child psychologically, emotionally, or spiritually to be mothered by an institution.

Was I rescued as an infant by my own adoptive parents? Yeah. Although that was not their intent, I was. Because I also don’t believe that I was designed psychologically, emotionally, or spiritually to be mothered by an unwed, unsupported, immature teenager.

Is adoption the answer? Not in the long term. Adoption is chemotherapy to the cancer of the orphan crisis. And like chemo, it is painful and sickening and makes your hair fall out and sometimes it doesn’t even work. In a perfect world, there would be no adoption. There would be no need.

But our world is far from perfect.
And this imperfect world is full of orphanages full of children.

I am white, but am not rich (not by American standards anyway). It takes an incredible amount of effort for me to be marginally fashionable, and I haven’t set a trend in a good twenty years. I’m just someone who enjoys being a parent, who (with my husband) was called to adopt – neither by a chorus of angels nor a burning bush, just the boring ole way of seeing it mandated in Scripture over and over and over and over to care for the orphan.

There are millions of little children wandering alone in places like Ethiopia and Russia and Korea and Houston and Dallas and Nashville and Peoria. My mom-dar has got to beeping, and I am slowly, oh so dang slowly, encircling one of them.

Am I a hero?
No. I’m just a mother.

Thank you, Missy! That was incredible. Read more of what Missy has to say at It’s Almost Naptime.  Did you miss the beginning of this series on adoption? Read When I Close My Eyes HERE or find out how you can help save a life with $1 HERE. If you didn’t get a chance to contribute to the families at Give 1 Save 1, please visit and consider donating $1. 

Carol

I dreamed of being a mother since I was a small girl. I couldn’t wait to dress and rock my own real live babies. I practiced on Cabbage Patch Kids. But nothing can prepare you for the heart stretch that happens when you become a parent.

Everything changes. You become the softest and the scariest person at the same time – one minute you gently kiss downy hair on a tiny head, the next you are ready to pounce on anyone who would harm your child and tear them apart with your bare hands.

But what I can’t comprehend is the millions of babies who have no mother or father to shelter and protect them.

Orphans.

Today I’m opening my eyes to the large number of orphans in the world and the need for willing people to adopt them. According to the World Orphans website, there are an estimated 163,000,000 orphans in the world. Did you catch all those zeros?

I’d like to introduce you to someone who is doing something about it. This is Beth Cupitt and she runs an amazing organization blog called Give 1 Save 1.

Beth, for those readers who don’t know about Give 1 Save 1, tell us the purpose of your organization.

We exist to simply provide a stage for people to raise funds towards their international adoptions. We are currently supporting Africa, Haiti, and Asian adoptions. Each family gets the donate button for a week and we simply ask everyone to give a dollar towards that adoption. It really can alleviate some serious stress that comes with adoption.

How did you get started?

I started with our own adoption. There are lots of blogs that have HUGE followings and I thought, “Man, if one of these ladies would just ask their members to give us a single dollar our whole adoption could be paid for.” But I understand that blogs have to stick to their topic and all that. So I figured I’d have to build an audience from the ground up and ask them. So that’s how it started. I just started blogging away and it’s been growing steadily ever since.

Do you have your own adoption story?

I do! We are in the waiting phase.  We are waiting for a phone call that could come at any time and tell us who our child is, which is a wild thought! We are waiting for a boy 0-2 or a girl 0-5 from Ethiopia.

How many families has Give 1 Save 1 helped?

Oh, goodness, around 40 families so far. We used to do one a week (Africa), but now we’ve added Asia and Haiti, so there are up to three families a week now.

Can $1 actually help?

Absolutely. Some people do give more, but lots of people give a dollar. The ball really gets rolling when people share. The more people you tell through blogs, emails, Facebook, and Twitter the more dollars the families bring in.

Does all of the money go directly to these families?

It does for the most part.  We link directly to their Paypal account, so I don’t even know how much they get (they have to update me). Paypal does get their chunk, but we’ve found it to be the most convenient and practical way to get money to the families quickly, and they often do need it quickly. There’s no overhead cost for me personally and all of our bloggers, including myself, are volunteers.

How do you choose the families to help? Is there an application process?

There is an application that I email. We read about the families and ask them to make a video. We choose based on several factors. One is the video. We love to see a fun video and find that if it’s a fun one or a touching one people will share it. Sharing = bigger donations and we really like to see families have a great week. Another factor is need. Financial situation, health and number of children being adopted, and where families are in the process are all taken into consideration.

If there are any families out there thinking about adoption, can you offer any advice?

Pray like crazy! Adoption is so full of uncertainties and tragedy, but there is beauty in taking the leap of faith. Joy will come from the ashes.

Thank you Beth for sharing! So people, do you want to open your eyes to the orphans? One way of doing that is by clicking over to Give 1 Save 1 and donating $1. Seriously. $1. It’s that easy. Head over and watch some of the videos these families have put together about their adoptions. I dare you not to be moved. 

Give 1 Save 1 is the featured service organization this month. You can come back anytime this month and find a link to them by clicking the Give 1 Save 1 button on the sidebar.

Tomorrow we’ll continue talking about adoption with a guest post from Missy at It’s Almost Naptime, where she’ll talk about her journey to adopt. Come back, you don’t want to miss it!

Carol