some thoughts on care and caution about upcoming orphan sunday

So, this is just a conversation starter. I've not thought through this enough to cling too hard to my ideas below. Some of these thoughts have been brewing for a long time, and I want to learn from what other people think. and I want to speak into the conversation as well. I'm sure my ideas/thoughts aren't new; in some circles of people/organizations who work for the good of those who are poor, this conversation is advanced and pretty mature; in other circles it is less so. I'm going to embolden the main points below for easier/faster reading. feel free to skip through and comment if you have thoughts or ideas.

I don't want people to feel like they have to walk on eggshells when communicating about these issues around me (or others), but I hope by sharing these thoughts on caution we'll better love these children around the world.

With a special Sunday coming up, where, in lots of churches throughout the country (including ours), children around the world who have been orphaned will be recognized, prayed for, honored and defended; God will be lifted up as the One who hears their cry; whole services will be purposely shaped to communicate God's great love for these kids and His command for us to defend the cause of the fatherless (By the way, praise God that this is happening in so many churches!!), I just want to offer a few words of caution and care for me and others involved:

1. Let's be creative in the ways we defend the cause of the fatherless and advocate for these children. and let's be extremely careful that we do it without objectifying them. it is a slippery slope and so important. There are lots of ways you can "fall off" regarding this issue, actually. and, not surprisingly, I've probably done them all.

you can go anywhere from exaggerating, potentially overdramatizing or treating unique stories in a way that allows people to think that (the terrible picture painted) is the life of every child who was orphaned or the life of every child who lives in Africa... all the way to undercommunicating the actual devastation that exists in lots of places and making poverty palatable.

many of us are familiar with the first set of issues; we've watched the videos that leave us feeling completely sick and convicted/guilty. some of that is real and good to communicate because we should care about those needs and work for good, but it can sometimes border on (or worse than border) on being manipulative of the viewers and objectifying of the kids in the videos. I think we know that danger a little bit.

but perhaps you are less familiar with the flipside (potentially undercommunicating the needs of children who are orphaned)...I'll hit on this in a different way on another point below (making sure we don't take the "spiritual adoption" comparison too far), but for now, I'll say this. I looooooove Mocha Club and their "we need africa more than africa needs us" campaign. love it. so much so that I'm tempted not to say any cautious words because I'd MUCH MUCH MUCH rather err on this side. seriously, watch the awesome video I linked above. it is great ... but just in case there are people out there like me, who sometimes struggle with this side too, I have to.

while, like they say in the video, there are tons of beautiful, joyful stories in the midst of poverty... overcorrection and communicating that it is just beautiful. that the stories are just so joyful. like poverty is to be somehow envied...which is why we should all move our families there because you learn better life lessons...is obviously dangerous too. there are TONS of stories like that. and we should learn from them. many people who live in very poor circumstances really are very joyful. and I wish so much that there weren't terrible stories. that there weren't ones that don't have silver lining. I wish there weren't stories that would never, ever, ever be envied.

but there are stories like that.

poverty sometimes--way too many times--reaches a level that doesn't have space for finding the good in the story. and we should make sure that in our good fight to protect the dignity of those who are poor and the beauty in some of the stories, we don't protect people from hearing the truth of other, worse, situations. we need to make sure we don't make extreme poverty somehow palatable.

again, I'm not picking a fight with Mocha club or mocha club lovers. I'm a huge fan. but I am suggesting that some people might misinterpret their great material and, without more information, underappreciate some of the real needs.

crazy how we can fall of the wagon so many ways, no?

good grief that was long. sorry. moving on.

2. During our church service that Sunday, Hunter and I have been asked to share about our experience adopting Isaiah. While I'm comfortable speaking in a lot of situations, it feels pretty clear that I might not handle this one so well (no, really??) so Hunter will speak on our behalf.

We want to find ways to appropriately share our experience in a way, like above, that doesn't pretend like Isaiah's life was just grand and perfect before, but without speaking disparagingly of his life in Rwanda and without objectifying him. without leading him (or others) to feel like he is a cause in our family instead of our precious, unique, beautiful son.

we want to honor him and our careful thinking about language is critical. (similarly, we were conscious of this with our journey to isaiah video (wanting joyful music that wouldn't pull too hard on heartstrings...but I also don't want to pretend that it is all just peachy. aye yi yi.)

A friend who advocates for people who live in unbelievably terrible circumstances around the world has a rule that, when he is speaking or writing about a person, he imagines that they are in the room with him. listening intently and understanding every word. he "brings them to the conversation" in his mind, which helps him make sure he speaks in a dignifying and truthful way.

on a different, but related note, I also want to protect the honor of the people who live in Rwanda. especially the amazing women who cared for Isaiah at Home of Hope, who willingly live in tough circumstances.

anyway, I would love for people to caution me when I've gone too far in sharing things. I mean that. I'm sure it will be hard to hear, but I'd like to err on that side of the conversation since my tendency is probably to overshare. Are there folks out there who have good measuring sticks or rules for how/what/when to share?

3. you've probably noticed it already, but, when possible, I think let's try to say "children who are orphaned" instead of "orphans." maybe that's just semantics, but saying "orphans" seems too defining, too minimizing of other things that define people. I get that for many kids this is the most defining thing in their life and I don't want to underappreciate that, but, like my friends Chris and Phileena Heuertz at Word Made Flesh, I would tend towards: people who are poor, children who are orphaned, women who prostitute. it is something about them; it isn't who they are.

4. Lastly, I'm super thankful for the comparison people have made between our spiritual adoption by God (through Christ we are now his sons) and the adoption of children. it is an interesting and sometimes helpful comparison. I totally agree.

However, from the way I understand it at least, the actual link between those things is not made in the Bible. I make that distinction because, like any metaphor, it only works for so long.

I think it is great because it helps us identify how God put us into his family, though we weren't naturally his children. and that leads us to be thankful for his grace in Jesus and leads us to live our lives differently. and that's beautiful...

but here are my two words of caution about it.

1) make sure you know that the comparison breaks down at this really important point. it was our fault (sin) that we weren't in God's family, except for his saving grace. it isn't a child's fault that they don't have a family. Isaiah wasn't undeserving of a family. it wasn't unmerited grace or sacrificial love that brought Isaiah into our family.

little annoying sidebar because this is uber-long already, but I'm doing this great bible study material right now, but the usage of the word "orphan" about how we act when we don't remember God's love for us is totally grating me. and I think this is why. someone help me develop or correct this thought!?! I just don't want people to overspiritualize the word orphan to describe how we sometimes act. bleh. I get it...but I feel unsure about it and unnerved all at once. bleh.

2) this is probably where I could get into trouble. but in wealthier contexts we have to try a little harder to identify with parts of scripture that talk about needs of the poor, and because of that, I think we can sometimes read into something a little too far. or at least we can forget and undercommunicate that the Bible is (also?) talking about actual physical poverty. in other words, I totally agree that Jesus wanted us to see that we are spiritually poor. but sometimes when we overemphasize the spiritual side, to help people who are materially wealthy identify with the content, we mistakenly ignore the physical side that Jesus was definitely also talking about. sometimes Jesus is only talking about physical poverty and we're not supposed to identify with the verse, we're supposed to understand and do something about it. "I was an orphan too before God adopted me" is true, but it doesn't mean you understand what it is like. (Obviously at churches on "orphan sunday," people are going to talk about the need to care for kids who are physically orphaned...but this has been on my mind a lot so I wanted to take some time to try to explain.)

I'm sooooooooo thankful that our congregation will participate in this kind of service. and I'm so thankful for the organizations that provide resources to help people think about issues faced by so many people in the world. I hope my caution doesn't communicate a lack of gratitude for or understanding of the need to draw attention to these important stories... I just figure in this pretty safe space where most of you read this because "defending the fatherless" is on your mind, that perhaps communicating these things on the front end can help us as we think about preparing for the services.

please talk back to me on these things. tell me ways you've wrestled with these issues too. rules you've made about talking about your kids, if at all (don't worry, I won't feel super judged. I know God leads people in different ways). tell me how you feel about potentially overspiritualizing words like orphan, poor, hungry.

love and pride can occupy the same spaces

yesterday at church felt like one of the many hard mornings during the last (and ridiculously painful) stretch of waiting time last fall. as we painfully waited for Isaiah to be with us. I'm not sure why, really. I've been increasingly emotional lately, thinking about Isaiah's story. though his story is of course personal and unique, part of it is also a story shared with millions of people around the world.

he didn't have a family.

I know, I know. He was always part of ours. and I really feel that way. and God was always with him, even when he was alone. That is not cheap encouragement. I think it is a necessary and helpful reminder. But if it is supposed to make the reality of orphanhood, for Isaiah or anyone else, somehow more palatable. or if it leads us to be complacent about the millions of kids around the world who don't have families:

no. thank. you.

yesterday morning our church recognized Compassion Sunday, where we heard testimonies from people who have sponsored kids through Compassion International, to help pay for school fees, medical bills, food, etc. I was feeling a little bit vomity (thinking about the reality of people Isaiah and we remember, who are still living at Home of Hope, people I know around the world who live and work in extremely difficult and painfully impoverished areas, who deeply love people who really don't have enough to eat. who really don't have access to the basic necessities of life. people whose life expectancy is unjustly and unfathomably lower than ours just because they were born someplace different than me. people who literally prostitute their children because otherwise they can't buy food to feed the kids they love. kids, of course, who can't imagine that there is a God who loves them... or else why would their life look like this.)

it was bad enough just imagining some of those stories that I'm all too familiar with, and then one of our friends said 'we're going to watch a video now to hear more about the lives Compassion International is touching.' I was already starting to cry and I looked at Hunter and desperately mumbled something like, "I've got to get out of here. this isn't going to be good."

and I bolted. I made a beeline for the back of the room where I watched and, as silently as possible, cried soft, broken, mama bear tears over the lives of precious kids who don't have families.

Isaiah's story could have been different. or, at least, lots of other beautiful, amazing, made-in-God's-image kids' lives are really painfully different. because of really sad, unjust things.

Let me pause for a second. If you've been around this blog for a while, I won't have to remind you of my enormous struggles with pride and self-righteousness when it comes to being a mommy of an incredible Rwandan kiddo. If there is a chance to pervert something beautiful God gave to me (love of the marginalized and sometimes forgotten), I did it and I do it. I've been known to awkwardly steer conversations to let people know that we have an adoptive son from Rwanda, hoping they'll think well of me. (vomit) In my worst moments I've felt like everyone should adopt (and that isn't the case) and I've hoped that no one else around us would adopt (so I can feel special and superior). I am so ashamed of the ways I've been prideful, selfrighteous and ungracious.

and yet, "love and pride can occupy the same spaces" sometimes. that's a line from a Sara Groves song that is in this video we made for Isaiah. what a great description of my life as it relates to these issues.

I'm so thankful for the ways God has given me a measure of his thoughts towards those who are poor. that they are deeply loved, beautiful, dear, gifted, valued, equal. I'm so thankful for how he has given me a measure of his thoughts about injustice and the poor: that He is close to the brokenhearted. that he will hear their cries. that he will punish the wicked. that He wants his people, US!, to intervene. that he wants us to defend the cause of the fatherless and widow. to break the yolk of oppression. to live simply so others can simply live. that he sent his son to die so that one day, every tear will be wiped. and there will be no more hunger, sadness, brokenness, prostitution, orphanhood, death, mourning.

as I pray that he continues to open my eyes to his compassion, to seeing the world as he sees it, asking him to help me weep over what he weeps over. I pray that he will give me a greater measure of his grace that will keep me humble, gentle, respectful, loving, forbearing and full of grace.

because I want these real things to be heard. truths about injustice. pain. suffering. brokenness. and I feel like the way I talk, not seasoned or deeply marinated enough by grace and humility, gives people legitimate reasons not to listen.

tribute to our dad

Our dad was the recipient of the 100th anniversary Boy Scouts of America Distinguished Citizen award for the region we live in, and last night was the dinner and awards ceremony. A few weeks ago my sisters and I decided to touch base with the event organizers to see if we could surprise our dad by giving a short tribute during the ceremony. We were so grateful that they allowed us to do that. It was a really memorable time. There were so many more things we could have said about him, but they told us we had 3 minutes and (shhhhh) I knew this was at least 4. so we had to stop somewhere. enjoy reading about our wonderful dad!

Good evening, my name is Adrianne Thompson and I am the very proud daughter of Ron Vodenichar. I am number three of four daughters in our family. So in several ways, it is no small feat that, of all the organizations out there-- after raising only girls--our dad is being honored by the Boy Scouts.

It is an enormous privilege to get to honor and thank our father publicly. Not many of us have the chance to do that, so thank you to the organizers of tonight’s event for making space for me to say a few words. My three sisters and I worked on this together over email, and I have the tough job of trying to speak our thoughts without crying.

There are actually two sayings that I'd like to highlight tonight as I talk about our dad. They center around two things that we all know he loves deeply: God and sports. The first comes from the Bible and goes like this "to whom much is given, much is to be expected." We believe that God has richly blessed our father in many ways, and those blessings have made him the man he is today.

The first gift our father received was the nuclear family into which he was born. The wonderful mother who raised him from the age of 12 is here tonight, his father and mother are surely proud of him in heaven, and his 11 brothers and sisters have been so loyal and a source of great support and joy to our family through the years.

Secondly, God gave our dad our mother as his wife, helper and partner in life. She is the kind of woman who sees the LORD in the most broken of people and places, and she treats everyone--someone with a position of power and the least of these among us--with dignity, trust, respect, and, of course, a little bit of sass.

Finally, God gave our dad his fair share-- perhaps more than his fair share-- of gifts and skills that make him the man he is: a sharp mind, determination, faith, and a beautiful story from growing up that make him compassionate, generous, hard working, humble and hopeful.

So again, as we think about those wonderful, numerous gifts our dad received, there is a sort of flipside: To whom much is given, much is to be expected. I don’t know if many of you know this, but our dad was actually pretty sheepish about receiving this award, and part of that is because he feels like he’s only lived appropriately based on the cards he was dealt. And of course he isn’t satisfied with how much he’s served. He is overwhelmed with emotion every year at Christmastime, wondering how to share more of the blessings that we have. And that kind of humility and dissatisfaction-- longing to serve more-- are two of the things we love and respect most about him.

The second expression is a sports saying that goes like this "champions are made when no one else is around." The same can be said of servants or distinguished citizens. In the verse "to whom much is given, much is expected," the critical word tonight, I think, is expected. You see, though so many of us have been given so much, not as many of us have followed through. Not many have tried to live up to that expectation.

And there's a reason for that. Like I already said, servants are made when no one else is around. The life of a servant is hard and often thankless. While many of us will be inspired and moved tonight, hearing about a life well lived, few of us will be inspired enough to do the sometimes monotonous, slow, thankless, humble work that is at the heart of a true servant. That is at the heart of our dad.

A few examples: for many years, our dad taught the boys Sunday school class at church. They weren't all the same age, but the thing that united them was that they were tough, restless, bored with the Bible, and not very teachable. Oh, and driving all the female Sunday school teachers crazy. But our dad faithfully served them every week. And he loved it. He brought them brownies, made the conversation relevant and tried his best to point them to the God he serves.

Secondly, at our father’s initiation, our family hosted many people from international exchange programs, ranging anywhere from 2 weeks to an entire year. Many people are willing to serve if it is in a way that is compartmentalized and not too sacrificial; not many serve when the hospitality is that lengthy and invasive of space. Especially not when, at one point, it meant hosting another 2 females, when he was already so outnumbered.

While there are many much larger scale acts of service that are notable about my dad, that have already been listed tonight, those oftentimes carry with them their own reward (like thoughtful awards and recognition like this.) But it is the things like teaching boys Sunday school, week in and week out, bringing his family along with him to serve pancakes at Rotary election day breakfasts, providing warm, generous hospitality to folks through international exchange programs, serving dinner at Katie’s kitchen, regularly bringing the family to sing together at assisted living facilities, ringing the bell for the salvation army, making dinner for our dear 90-year old friends, the Parvises, those kinds of smaller, mustard-seed-like, anonymous or prolonged acts of service are what really make up the heart of a servant. And those are the kinds of things that make us most proud of our father.

My time is short so let me end by repeating: Daddy, to whom much is given, much is to be expected. And my sisters and I have no idea how we can live in a faithful manner anywhere close to proportional to the gift you have been to us. We are so thankful and so proud. Congratulations daddy.

walk4water and Isaiah's tummy

tomorrow morning, friends of ours in Lancaster are hosting a walk to promote awareness about unclean water in Rwanda. 4-more, the organization that planned the event, exists to find ways to provide all that we take for granted (family, water, life, love) to children who are orphans in Rwanda. One of the founders, Laurel Greer, is a friend and fellow adoptive mama. she's the jam. She and 3 best friends started this organization. ummmm, yes please.

to personalize it, though, today we're starting another round of treatments for Isaiah's stomach issues. 4 antibiotics and a fifth medicine for reflux. we've been home for 7 months and he still has giardia (a water born parasite that causes stomach pain and lots of beyond disgusting diapers. no really, you have no idea how yucky unless you've "been there.") he's had other parasites, too, over the past 8 months.

even sadder than that, this summer I realized more of the extent of Isaiah's digestive issues. it is all interrelated. We've been told that because of his nutrition (because while the sisters do EVERYTHING they can for the kids at Home of Hope...their food/water situation isn't healthy or enough.) anyway, because of what he ate and drank for the 21 months he lived at Home of Hope (and probably what he had before that too) we've been told it will take years for his digestive system to recover. and it might not ever function properly.

This summer the combination of his digestive and emotional issues nearly overwhelmed me. While I was at my adoption wife, Susie's, house (LOVE HER), Isaiah and Lucy stayed in the same room as me. I started hearing Isaiah throw up a little bit pretty regularly. He would throw up in his mouth and then swallow it down. I had noticed this habit before, but he never spit and he's always on the move so I didn't realize how often it happened. I didn't think it was that big of a deal. But after hearing it happen several times within 10 minutes, I said to him, "Isaiah, do you want to spit it out?" and he nodded his head furiously. He ran to the bathroom, spit it out and then walked out with this HUGE grin on his face. He ran over to the bed, gave me a kiss and said, "thank you mommy. Ndagukunda." and he repeated each step: throw up, communicate that he needs to spit, spit, huge grin, "thank you mommy Ndagukunda" until after 10:30 pm. at least 10 times.

on the 9 hour car trip home, he threw up over 20 times into a cup I gave him. it was awful.

now I notice that he throws-up 5-10 times after most meals and snacks. sometimes he remembers to spit it out and sometimes he doesn't. some foods make it worse (we're gluten and dairy free) but it never is absent. it isn't just reflux, but we're starting those meds too to see if it helps some.

kids shouldn't throw up in their mouths or if they do, they should realize that it isn't normal. and they shouldn't think they should swallow it.

walk for water, friends, so that kids don't have to walk MILES for water that looks like this.

so that kids don't have to have stomach pain. So that kids don't throw up in their mouths and swallow it down. so that life expectancy (and enjoyment) in Rwanda is at least a little more just.