Adoption – Page 4 – The Gowin Family

October 5, 2012October 5, 2012

Home–All of Us

Last night we closed one chapter of our family’s story and began the next.

After 32 hours of travel, we arrived in Springfield to a crowd of family and friends there to greet us and our newest family member, Kieran. A delightful homecoming. Our kids were especially excited to see “big brother:” Eva ran up to give him the biggest two-year-old hug she could muster.

It’s good to be home, to sleep in my bed, to drink water from the tap, to navigate a culture I know.

But I’ll miss Ethiopia, one part of this freshly finished chapter.

I’ll miss the wonderful and generous families we met who have also chosen to open their families to “the least of these.” I’ll miss the differentness of Ethiopia–the food, the music, the sounds, the smells. I’ll miss the AWAA staff: Job, Yonas, T, and the host of nannies and support workers at the transition home. I won’t miss the night club down the street from the guest house that played techno/dance music past 5:00 AM every morning.

You can’t romanticize Ethiopia, have a crush on it like a junior high school girl. It’s problems are many and complex.

But you can love it. And we do.

Neither can you romanticize adoption. Raising children is hard work. And, as Russell Moore writes, adoption always begins in tragedy. There is loss and grief and injustice. This is true for Kieran as well as Aidan and Eva.

But adoption also offers redemption and hope.

We’re grateful that God opened our eyes, our ears, and our hearts to this call. Our lives would be much smaller if we’d not listened and obeyed.

Now that we’re back, I’ve had a chance to sort through some images (and post them with fast Internet access). Here are a few scenes from our last (but maybe not final?) trip to Ethiopia.

Liam, who fell asleep on the table at lunch on the day we arrived in Addis Ababa after a long trans-Atlantic flight.

Our first meal together back at the guest house: ramen noodles.

After we passed embassy and received Kieran’s new birth certificate and court decree.

Kieran outside a shop in the Post Office shopping district.

Liam with Job, one of the AWAA staff.

The familiar sight of children’s clothes drying in a well-protected courtyard.

Liam and Kieran in Kieran’s room at the transition home.

Coffee ceremony.

Nanny at the transition house. Everyone there loved Kieran and wanted to have their pictures made with him before he left.

Nurse at the transition house.

Holding hands and chatting with a friend before leaving for America (props to Suzanne for seeing this image).

The boys with Job and Abraham, one of our drivers.

Weary travelers in Chicago (ORD) after 30-some hours into our journey.

With a friend from the transition home in Addis Ababa who also now lives in central Illinois.

Thanks to everyone who came out to meet us at the airport (and thanks to Brian Bolton for getting a photo of all of us).

October 2, 2012October 2, 2012

Hello Brian Spencer

Hello Brian Spencer from Ethiopia - The Gowin Family

This post requires explanation.

When we came to Ethiopia in July, the rainy season was just beginning. Rainy season means it rains. Every day. So travelers are advised to bring rain coats and boots.

While I had a rain coat, I had no boots. I asked around and my friend Brian Spencer said he had boots I could borrow. Sweet. In exchange for letting me use his boots in Ethiopia, I promised to wear them and take a photo for him. That way he’d be the proud owner of boots that were worn halfway across the world in Africa AND have photographic proof.

Only, I never needed to wear them and forgot to take the photo. It did, in fact, rain every day but the roads were never messy enough to warrant boots.

Nuts.

So this trip I decided I’d make up for my oversight.

I made this little sign that read “Hello Brian Spencer, from Ethiopia” and had Liam take my photo down the street from our guest house. While we set up the shot, we drew a few curious onlookers. I smiled at them, said “hello,” then asked if they’d hold the sign and let me make their picture. I explained that Brian Spencer was my friend in America and the pictures were for him. Several folks were good sports and played along. So here are their photos.

Hello Brian Spencer from Ethiopia - The Gowin Family

October 1, 2012October 1, 2012

Embassy Passed

The Gowins passed embassy in Ethiopia

At 9:00 AM today we left Ethiopia for an hour to stand (and sit) on American soil at the U.S. Embassy in Addis Ababa. The anticipation of the last few months came to fruition as we received the court decree and birth certificate that officially include Kieran as a Gowin.

On Wednesday morning we’ll receive his passport and visa; on Wednesday night we’ll begin the long journey home.

September 30, 2012

Faith, dead or alive?

Hmm, sounds like a Bon Jovi song…… but that’s not where I am headed.

Last night, in the middle of our first dinner together, Ramen noodles in our room, tears started to fill Kieran’s eyes. I tried to ask him what was wrong, but he didn’t want to answer. Did we say something that unknowingly offended? We were just talking about how our dog Elli used to like to sit under Liam when we all sat around the dinner table because that was the likeliest place to find crumbs. Did that remind him that he was not sitting with his first family for dinner? Was he worried about his birth father or upset that we did not end up seeing him that day like we planned?

He didn’t want to say and was obviously trying to stop the tears, but to no avail. When he and I were alone and I asked him again and he kept trying to tell me he was okay. I didn’t want to push, but I explained that it was okay that he was sad and I wanted to help him. He finally told me that he was worried about his father. It seemed as though he didn’t want to tell me because he didn’t want ME to worry about HIM (as is consistent with the Ethiopian “it is no problem” culture, not wanting others to concern themselves with their own problems), or because he didn’t want me to feel bad that he was thinking about his father though he was with us. Probably the former, but with the language and cultural and teen barrier, I truly do not know.

Today after church, we went to visit Kieran’s birth father at the hospital. His only living parent has been blind from polio since age seven, and now he is in the hospital after having a major hip surgery two weeks ago. (He fell and broke it about 8 weeks ago and spent a good 4 weeks just waiting for a hospital bed and another couple weeks waiting for the surgery. That’s a long time to wait for hip surgery.) He explained that the physical therapy is showing that his leg is not working well and now he has to leave the hospital since his two weeks post-surgery is up. He used to have a friend he stayed with some in Addis, but that is not going to work out any more. His relatives live in such remote village that it takes an 8-9 hour bus trip plus a 30 min walk to get home.

Now I was the one sitting there crying, as the sound of the unseasonal rain outside filled the scene as on cue. All I could hear in my head was James 2:16 (which, come to find out, is in the next session of my Beth Moore: James study):

“If one of you says to him, ‘Go, I wish you well; keep warm and well fed,’ but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it?”

Yet, this is what I am about to do. I am going to leave him with all these needs, and I don’t think I can do anything about them. It is illegal for an adoptive parent to give large gifts to the birth family of whom you are adopting. We leave on a plane in 3 days. What can I do? Is my faith dead? Am I ignoring the sermon this morning about having compassion, which is more of a verb than an adjective?

I wasn’t making any noise with my cry, but the remaining senses of blind people are often heightened. He then told me through the translator not worry about him, that he would be alright. He assured me that he is better than he was before the surgery, that he was thankful for our help, and that he would be praying for us. You hear that? HE doesn’t want ME to worry.

What are you wanting me to do, Lord? What can I do? I know some may try to tell me that we have already done enough, that we have come all the way across the world to take care of his son so he doesn’t end up alone on the streets with a bum leg like his father. And we did arrange for the payment of this surgery through others, though we did not ourselves pay any of it. But how do I know what is enough? Is there ever an “enough”? Would James or his half-brother Jesus let me off the hook? I am thinking not.

Please pray for wisdom to know how to have compassion with action, a faith that is alive.

September 29, 2012

Traveling Light

All of Kieran's stuff

Suzanne, Liam, and I arrived in Ethiopia yesterday morning to bring Kieran to our home in Illinois. After dropping our bags at the guest house, we drove to the transition home where Kieran has lived for the last few months. The eight hour time difference between Lincoln and Addis Ababa is proving rough for Liam: he fell asleep on the table at lunch. Right now, at 3:00 AM local time, he and I are up reading and writing.

We’ll have more details to share in the days ahead. For now, this:

Every valuable material thing Kieran has with him fit into the small bag photographed above.

His backpack is a metaphor and a lesson for me.

Many more, however, are the memories of his father, his brothers and sisters, his friends, the life he’s known in Ethiopia that Kieran carries deep in his heart. Days of loss and grieving lie before us. We would not expect otherwise.

But it’s our prayer that God is in this journey with all of us and that He will make all things new.

So what was I reading before I started writing this morning?

Matthew 25.

Thanks to all of you who help care for the least. Travel light, friends.

August 24, 2012August 24, 2012

Interview with the Springfield State Journal-Register

As we continue to raise funds to bring Kieran home, Suzanne made plans to have a booth at the Lincoln Balloon and Art Festival where we could sell our 147 Million Orphans gear. Our good friend Betsy made plans to get Suz an interview to help spread the word, and that interview was featured in the State Journal-Register today. It’s really well done–we’re grateful for the good press and writer Theresa Schieffer did a terrific job.

If you’re in Lincoln this weekend, stop at the airport and visit the booth. Some friends will be minding the store in the afternoon and Suz will be there tomorrow evening. They’d love to see you.

Here’s an “action shot” of Suz at the booth tonight. Blessings.

August 18, 2012

Pat Robertson Pokes the (Adoption) Bear

Pat Robertson has poked a bear.

The bear has not responded kindly.

On The 700 Club television program this week, Pat Robertson responded to a viewer who was wondering why the men she dates are reluctant to marry her. The viewer has three adopted daughters, all from different countries. Robertson’s response (video on YouTube) is startlingly insensitive and theologically immature, especially given the increasing importance being placed on adoption by many Christians and churches.

The video quickly found its way to facebook where many of our adoptive-family friends expressed their shock and disappointment.

It also prompted a blog post from Russell Moore, author of a fine book on adoption and dean at Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. He’s an adoptive father as well. Moore states that not only is Pat Robertson “dismissing the Christian mandate to care for the widows and orphans in their distress,” but that his response is a denial of the Gospel itself:

The Bible tells us that Jesus is present with the weak and the vulnerable, the “least of these,” his brothers and sisters. When one looks with disgust at the prisoner, the orphan, the abandoned woman, the mentally ill, the problem isn’t just with a mass of tissue connected by neural endings. The issue there is the image of God, bearing all the dignity that comes with that. And, beyond that, the issue there is the presence of Jesus himself.

Christianity Today summarizes the debate and reports that Robertson has “clarified” (retracted?) his statements in a press release.

I know I’ve uttered words that I wished I could grab and shove back into my mouth. Sadly, though, I feel that there may be many churchgoing people here in America who side with Robertson’s pre-clarification comments.

July 28, 2012July 28, 2012

We Spent a Week on a Plane One Day

Who hopes for what he already has? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.
— Romans 8.24-25

We’re home.

We left the guest house in Addis Ababa on Thursday around 2:00 PM (Ethiopia time). From the three flights, layovers, delays, driving from the airport, and other general waiting around, it took us about 38 hours to get home.

Maura fell asleep on the flight from Dallas to Peoria and had a hard time waking up enough to even walk off the plane. She slept in the car for the 45 minutes back to Lincoln and went straight to bed once we got home.

It was good to get home last night, to sleep in our own beds. I’m looking forward to a hot shower later. And, from what they tell me, everyone else here is looking forward to my taking a hot shower, too.

Since our last flight from Dallas was delayed, it was after 7:00 when we drove home from Peoria. The sunlight was gorgeous on the corn and bean fields along I-155. As we drove Suz and I talked about some of the contrasts between Ethiopia and here:

On our trip to southern Ethiopia, we watched farmers drive wooden plows behind oxen on small plots. Some used hoes and hand tools to break up the soil. In America, farming is a science dominated by decades of research, knowledge, and machinery.
Roads here get clogged with cars and trucks. In Ethiopia, they get clogged with people, sheep, goats, donkey-driven carts, and cattle.
Everyone here owns a car and they’re all relatively new. In Ethiopia, they take blue-and-white taxis. The small sedans for a couple people are expensive; most folks ride in a minivan that hauls 10-15 people and doesn’t leave its stop until it’s full. Addis has other public busses as well but few people own cars. And a car from the mid-90’s is considered “new.”
You can drink water straight from the tap here and it won’t make you sick.
Black diesel fumes choke the air in the city. But you get used to it after a while.
The Internet here is zippy. In Ethiopia it’s more like dial-up. On a good day.
It’s easy to get anything here in the US. Seriously. If you have money, you can get it. Even if you don’t have money, you can get it (loans, credit cards–but that’s another story).
America is a place of opportunity (I alluded to this the other day). Ethiopia wants to offer that but economics and other factors make it impossible for most people.

We really have it good in America. If you haven’t taken time to reflect on that, please do. Then do something to help someone else who could use a hand. Maybe here or here or even here if you’re so inclined. You have lots of options if you look.

While it’s good to be home, we’re aware that we’re not all here. We have to wait another two months (or so) for our embassy appointment. At that point, Kieran will join us.

Pictured above are the shoes that Suzanne, Maura, and I wore while we traveled. They bear the dust and sand from Dubai and the beach at the Persian Gulf as well as dust and mud from the hundreds of miles (or kilometers) we traveled in Ethiopia.

After our embassy trip, I’ll make this photo again but with an extra pair of shoes. Or maybe a photo with eight pairs of shoes. We’ll see.

Until then we live in the “already but not yet,” a family of eight but only seven of whom reside in our house. Until then, we hope for that which we don’t have.

Until then, we wait patiently.

July 26, 2012

Returning Home

I can’t believe this trip is already almost over. What experiences we have had and how our life has changed in this short week and a half. “What I have seen.”

As we leave in a few short hours, I wanted to share with you a sweet moment I had with my son yesterday. There is a Scripture I had read recently in Psalms that when I read it, I knew that I wanted to share it with Kieran.

If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast. (Ps 139:9-10)

I wrote it down on a piece of paper and then tried to explain it to him. He knows many English words but the poetic part of this is a little confusing. Basically this was my translation to him. I was “fortunate” to have a book in front of us with a picture of the world on it.

When you, Sintayehu, wake up on the other side of the world, when you begin to live across the sea (as I pointed to the globe), EVEN THERE GOD is holding your hand (as I looked straight into his eyes and held his hand). God is here and He is there, and his strong right hand will guide you and keep you safe.

I saw in his deep eyes that he understood and I held him close. We didn’t move for a long time. I could tell he knew that, in the midst of his worries, he is seeing how his heavenly Father is taking care of him. He is learning to trust us and to trust God more and more.

Please pray for his heart while we wait to be reunited again. Pray he gives his worries to the Almighty. Pray we all grow stronger every day in the knowledge and amazing love of our Father. Amen.

July 25, 2012

We Have a New Son

On a cloudy and uncharacteristically cool day in Addis Ababa, we attended court to learn if we’d be able to adopt another child.

We passed.

Here is Kieran Solomon Sintayehu Gowin, our newest and oldest son.

Newest Gowin family member - Michael Gowin

We’ll post some more details later but we know that friends and family are eager for news and photos. So we’re giving the people what they want.

Again, we’ll have more soon. Thanks to all those who’ve been praying for us and supporting us on this journey.