A Rose by Any Other Name...

***I've been "trying" to blog about our daily adventures while in Ethiopia adopting our daughter. We not only saw the sights, but there were several emotional moments on our trip. I thought I would share an emotional moment with you today.***

When we started this adoption journey nearly 3 years ago, we had no idea the emotional effect it would have on us. Everyone warns you that its quite the roller coaster, but I naively thought, I'm tough enough to handle anything for the sake of a child.

Hmmm, I guess God had a lot to teach me...and He was more than happy to.

See, adoption is not for the faint of heart. It is a special calling that God gives you just as He calls some to ministry, missions, elder care, youth ministry, an office job, health care. The list could go on and on. There are so many jobs, gifts, ministries that I just know I could not do, and I wouldn't even want to try. But some people are just called and can do it without blinking an eye.

Adoption is our calling.

When we started in August 2010, we had envisioned ourselves bringing home a bouncing baby girl. I had pictured it in my mind over and over, just like the Baby Story episodes on tv where they bring home their new child and everyone is waiting at the airport and everyone just weeps (including me, on my couch, with my bowl of ice cream, blubbering like an idiot).

As with the excitement of anyone expecting a baby, we listed off all the baby names we could think of possibly naming our child.

Aria, London, Malia, Sunday...

Ok, I was naming off baby names and Nick was looking at me in horror like "Are you kidding me right now?" I couldn't understand why he did not, still does not, like these perfectly beautiful names. I'm still in love with Aria and London, but that is something I will bring up with the next adoption...

Again, Nick is looking at me in horror saying, "Are you kidding me right now?"

So after all was said and done, we had settled on the name Aselah. It is the name of a city in Ethiopia that Nick had found on a map, and because it was different (I like different, if you couldn't tell) and he had some input, I enthusiastically agreed (ok, maybe not enthusiastically, I was still really holding on to London).

After my mom's passing, I knew I wanted to use her middle name, Sue, as a tribute to her life. My mom was everything to me and I wanted my legacy to be a reflection of hers.

So we anxiously began waiting for Aselah Sue Kellerstrass.

And waiting.

And waiting.

And then we found HER! A beautiful 7 year old girl with a smile that lights up her face. One of the most beautiful children I've ever seen, waving at the camera with the greatest delight of having her picture taken.

And I thought, "That is my child. I have to have her in my life. She is my daughter."

I knew instantly that she was meant to be in my family. We had waiting for over a year on the referral list for a 0-2 year old girl, moved our age from 0-4 then 0-6 and had been watching the Waiting Child list for several months with no luck.

And one day, there she was...a waiting child. Waiting for us.

A waiting child is typically an older child, which is not in an age range that people are looking to adopt from or may have a physical illness that requires special attention. "This little girl, Tarikua, is perfectly healthy, a little bit shy at first, but can hold her own ground when playing games" is what the agency told us.

I told Nick that I really thought she was ours. He, of course, was busy at work and wasn't really able to make such a life altering decision at the moment, but I was insistent. I'm pretty good at getting what I want. But Nick was going to take this slowly because, let's face it, it is a HUGE decision that will affect the course of our lives forever. One bad decision could potentially lead to a constant battle within the family unit for years. We've seen families struggle with adopting older children and to not take this decision seriously could have tragic results.

But within a few hours, Nick had studied her photo, spoken to the adoption agency, and most importantly, PRAYED over and over about this little girl, Tarikua. And suddenly, he knew too. This little girl was meant to be a Kellerstrass.

And we accepted the referral!

We got a whole file worth of paperwork on little Tarikua to poor over and make sure everything was 100% ok with us. Her health records, her social evaluation, her birth story. Anything that could help us make an informed decision about whether or not this child would be a good fit in our family.

One thing I noticed was all the different spellings and pronunciations we seemed to get from the same agency about the same girl. We were initially told her name was Tarequa (Ta-ree-qua). But we also got paperwork that said Tarike (Ta-ree-kay). So we weren't exactly sure what her name technically was.

So we went to the expert. Our friends' 13 year old son who is from Ethiopia, grew up there until he was 12, and speaks fluent Amharic.

Bereket said her name was Tarikua (Tear-uh-kwa), which means "My History". I thought, "What a cool meaning for this child's name. She, at the young age of 7, has experienced more love and more in life than I have in all of my 32 years. Her history is her story and is uniquely hers, and it's something that I want to live on in her for the rest of her life."

So there we had it. Tarikua Sue Kellerstrass. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl with a beautiful spirit.

Beautiful.

People seem to have a hard time pronouncing her name, and we've had people ask if we are going to keep her name the way it is. We've struggled over that one. I mean, when you have to repeat the name 3 or 4 times to someone before they say it correctly, it gets embarrassing, and you feel like you have to defend it. We thought about changing it, but then we remembered...this is who she is. She has been Tarikua for 7 years. There is a pride in a person's name and this is the only thing that has remained constant in her life for those 7 years. To take away her home, everything she has known AND change her name just seemed like too much.

Yes, we are keeping her name.

Tarikua Sue was Tarikua Sue until the Tuesday afternoon that we sat in the IAN office in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. We were getting our run down of how court works, what they will ask us and what to expect. We had been told by other adopting families to ask the staff to see her personal file.

They brought the file over and as we were perusing it, in this office in Ethiopia where the sounds of the city are coming in the office. Where we had been immersed in the culture, the people, the life, the sounds, the tastes, the REALITY of it all, suddenly I could see Tarikua's story through her mother's eyes.

We are not allowed to share her story publicly, out of respect to her privacy, but I will say her mother passed away when Tarikua was a small child.

Suddenly I was thrown into my mom's hospital room during the last moment's of her life. I remembered my mother's concerns as she lay on her death bed, that we would all forget her and that life would just go on as if she never existed. That we would forget everything that she meant to us and how our entire lives were a product of her influence.

And then I saw Tarikua's mother, who too was on her death bed. As a mother myself, I could imagine the worries and fears going through her mind as she knew her last seconds in this life were coming to an end. How, as a mother, could you leave peacefully knowing that your young child would be left alone in this cold, cruel world with no one to look after her. There is nothing you can do to stop death from happening, but I can imagine doing everything you possibly could to claw your way out of going towards "the white light".

I was in tears in the adoption office. Never had her mom's story became so clear to me, never had her story been so personal, so heartbreakingly real to me. I had to hold back the sobs that were starting to overtake me.

My heart just breaks for Melkame.

That is her mother's name. A beautiful Ethiopian name, which means "Happy". A woman whose tragic ending makes for a beautiful beginning for us. Adoption is born from tragedy, but is an example of God's redeeming love and grace. I will never take Melkame's place, nor do I have any desire to. I simply want to be a continuation of her legacy, to raise Tarikua in a way that would make her proud and give her the peace that her daughter is going to be loved and treasured.

In that office, in that moment, I knew that my mother's legacy is in me. That I am a daughter that leaves behind her story and helps keep her memory alive. I may not have her name, but I have her hopes, her dreams, her loves, her hates. I am my mother's memory.

And Tarikua is Melkame's. I cannot, do not, want to take away Melkame's legacy. I want Tarikua to carry her story and to have pride in her mother's life and to know her mother loved her far beyond what she could imagine.

I decided my mother's legacy lives on through her 5 children. I know my legacy lives on through my children, and I want Melkame's legacy to live on through her child. And because of that I'd like to introduce our fourth child...

Tarikua Melkame Kellerstrass meaning "My Happy History" and a Happy History she has.

"Hi, Mom" Is The Most Beautiful Sentence

Day #2 started off really well, just like yesterday. We started our day at 9:00 a.m. (In Ethiopia, that means 9:45, everything is very laid back). The Addis View Hotel driver took us to the IAN offices to have a debriefing for court. Court will be on Wednesday at 1:30 p.m. We were able to look through her file and discover a little more information on her. (***For the protection of her privacy, we are not allowed to share this information on a public media site, but would love to share all about our little girl with you in person!)

The meeting lasted about 30 minutes and then we were able to go back to the care center and see Tarikua! When we pulled up and I jumped out of the van, I heard a little voice yell "Hi, mom!" I looked up and Tarikua was hanging out the window waving at me! It was the most precious thing and my heart just melted.

She had me at hello.

We went into the care center and were greeted by all the little kids, who were enthralled by the zippers on my purse. Tarikua came downstairs and gave us big hugs and kisses, a much different response than yesterday. She took us by the hand and led us upstairs to her room. She showed us her bed and told us all her friends names.



At first, there was a language barrier and we kind of looked at each other like....uhhhhh...what do we do?

But then we got out the iPhones, and nobody can resist The Apple. We showed Tarikua the photos on Nick's phone and this turned into about an hour of showing her her family in photos and videos. She was starting to put two and two together, like who her brothers and sister are. We sat there on her bed surrounded by all the other girls laughing at silly pictures of Wrigley, watching videos of Owen roller skating, and learning the relationships between the kids.



Soon it was time for everyone to eat lunch. Nick and I sat on the floor while the kids ate. Injera and lamb were for lunch today. There were 4 nannies downstairs taking care of the kids. All the kids are so cute and so well behaved! They all sit in their chairs nicely and quietly. There is no arguing or grabbing or whining or asking for more. They patiently wait for their food to come. And afterwards they all clear their plates.

When Tarikua was done eating, she came and sat on Nick's lap. A minute later, a little boy, probably 2 years old, came over crying because he had gotten in trouble and wanted Nick to console him. It was very cute. They we asked Tarikua if she wanted to play again and she took our hands and led us upstairs. This time we played clapping games and sang some songs. Tarikua seems comfortable and happy with us now.



Then it was time to leave for the day. She gave us kisses and hugs, and I even got a kiss on the lips! I love this girl so incredibly much. Nick and I are completely smitten and can hardly wait for the minute we get to see her again! We are so blessed she is our daughter. Thank you Lord for allowing us to be her mommy and daddy!



After we got back to the Addis View, Joel was there to pick us up. He decided to take us to Entoto Mountain today. The ride up was crazy. It was up the mountain side with no guard rails and there were people everywhere going every which way. Entoto Mountain is the site of the first Ethiopian Orthodox church. It is also the site of the first Emperor's (Emperor Milinik) castle. Joel took us through the Emperor's museum, which was filled with royal clothing and artifacts from the Emperor's reign in the 1890's. It was very cool.





The we saw the first Orthodox church of Ethiopia, which was just a small round hut. Down the lane was a castle that consisted of three small buildings: the living quarters, the bedrooms, and the guest rooms. It was not what you or I would expect a castle to be.

Entoto mountain is said to have Holy Water on it that can heal the sick and elderly. Many people come to Entoto Mountain to drink the water so they will be healed. Some elderly people will come to live and pray on the mountain until they die. We saw both types of people living in small tents built on the side of the mountain waiting for healing.

After Entoto, we headed back down the mountain to a restaurant, Lucy, named after the oldest known discovered human bone. The food was really good and we got to spend time with Joel learning more about him. (Joel became a close personal friend during our trip, almost like a brother to us!).

Then we headed back to the hotel for a quick rest while it rained and stormed outside.

After our little rest, we headed down to the Addis Cafe for a machiatto (best ever!) and some dinner. We ordered a cheeseburger each and some french fries. When they brought the food out, we were shocked to find HUGE burgers (enough to feed two) and french fries PLUS the ones we ordered because we didn't know they came with the burgers. Needless to say, we didn't even eat 1/4 of the food and our total bill? $11.11!





We ended our night on a little walk up and down the street a couple times and to a market where we bought some berberi. It was a very fun, educational and relaxing day!

The Blog I Was Supposed To Do While Away...

So I promised a blog update every night from the heart of Ethiopia...

It didn't happen.

But not because I didn't want it to. The Wi-Fi in Addis Ababa was scarce, to say the least, if non-existent. We were told our hotel had it, but it never worked. And we were guaranteed that it would work at the Hilton, but again it managed to escape our digital devices.

I think it was God's way of saying, "PUT DOWN THE PHONES! Immerse yourself in your daughter's culture! Enjoy the beauty of the people, the city, and the history!" And if there is one thing I have learned from this entire adoption journey is the God is ALWAYS RIGHT! And I am grateful for the lack of distraction.

We had the most AMAZING trip. Nick and I's lives were changed by Ethiopia. We not only welcomed a new child into our family, but also became a part of Ethiopia. Ethiopia will forever be who we are now, and we fell in love with our new culture.

Luckily, I was smart enough to blog the old fashioned way...in a journal. I wasn't able to update you all each night of our trip, but now I will share my journal with you, each night at a time to help you all experience what we experienced. Enjoy!

May 5, 2013
"We've arrived! After 16 hours of flights and two countries later, we have found ourselves at the Addis View Hotel in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia! The journey here was remarkably smooth and could not have gone any better. We took off from O'Hare Airport and flew Turkish Airlines to Istanbul, Turkey. The flight was long (12 hours!) but it went alot faster than I thought it would. Once in Istanbul, we had a one hour layover until our next flight. It's interesting to see that every airport has everything in their language plus English, which really helps us American travelers who only speak English.



We found our gate for our second flight and could instantly spot the Ethiopian people heading home. They are all so beautiful. It's hard for me not to stare. The women are all so distinctly beautiful and flawless in their skin tone and features. They have the best hair ever! And it's completely opposite of my stick straight, fine hair. So many of the women resembled Tarikua, it was incredible, and it made me even more excited to meet her. The most noticeable thing was how friendly they were to everyone. They smiled at every passenger boarding the plane with us.

We boarded our second flight and made way for the 4.5 hour flight to the capital city of Ethiopia, Addis Ababa. When we arrived in Addis, it was much what I expected from an airport in Africa: simple, starch, and small. We first had to go through customs, where the lady asked me if was REALLY me in the passport photo. I've lost 15 lbs since the beginning of the year and I guess the customs agent could not tell it was still me from the photo. Luckily, she let us go through without any other problem, but I never thought of weight loss as an issue until that moment.

After customs and exchanging our money ($1 = 18 Birr, making $1000 = 18,000 Birr or in other words, a large stack of cash), we got our luggage and headed out to the city of 4 million people. I'm not going to lie, it's daunting to be the only white people who speak your language walking into a crowd of Africans who speak in a tongue you don't know. It's easy to feel threatened and out of control. Truthfully, I sort of wanted to turn around and head back to the airport and catch a flight back home.



But we didn't, we pressed ahead one step at a time. Our driver met us and took us to his van. The first thing that hit me was the strong stench of exhaust. Already tired and overwhelmed, the smell nearly knocked me over. After we loaded the van, we instantly saw the driving situation here. It's each man for himself. There are cars everywhere (and it's 2 am, mind you) and people walking each and every way. There appears to be no rules of the road, but somehow it seems to work. We drove through the city at 2 a.m. on Easter morning and there were people EVERYWHERE, dressed in traditional white garb. Easter celebrations begin at midnight after a 2 month fast of no meat. So the celebration was just beginning!

We passed by the largest Orthodox church, which was the most ornate, beautiful complex I've ever seen. It was surrounded by people sleeping around it, waiting and watching the beginning of Easter. We arrived at the hotel and with great relief found a beautiful, huge room waiting for us. I fell right to sleep and slept like a baby for hours.



At about 9:00 we got a surprise phone call from Yared (a staff member of our adoption agency)...we are going to meet Tarikua today!!! More to come...

(Later that day)
Yared was coming at noon so we got dressed in Easter clothes and went downstairs to check out the area. It's intimidating walking around and everyone staring at you. The houses are all crumbling stone and drywall with corrugated metal roofs. Everywhere we drove there were people, animals: goats, donkeys, dogs, etc. walking in the street. Yared arrived and took us to see Tarikua!





We got to the Care Center, which is in a new building, in a newly developed part of the city. There are large gates surrounding the center. The nanny let us in and we were immediately led into the courtyard, which led to the dining room. The kids were all starting to gather for an Easter celebration lunch. They had the coffee ceremony all set up and lamb cut up for the Easter dinner. As we walked in, the kids started gathering around us to shake our hands and say "Selam". They were very polite and sweet.

I noticed instantly that Tarikua was not in the room. I looked over to the stairs and before I could see her face, I saw her hair. She came downstairs with a pep in her step and a smile on her face, but as soon as everyone turned to her and said "Tarikua!" and Nick walked over to her, she froze.



I think it hit her then that these strange people were here for her. She was pretty timid towards us, but she gave Nick a hug and then me a hug. I kissed her cheek and told her we were her "annot" (mother) and "addot" (father)."
She smiled at me. She told me she was 7 and I told her, her outfit was beautiful and her hair and bracelets were pretty. She took pictures with us and let us cuddle her. We told her our names and she said "Nick" when I pointed to him.







It was time for them to eat, so she sat down with the other children. Yared took us on a tour of the care center. Second floor was the play room and boys room. The boys had made paper ring chains and hung balloons in their room for Easter. On the third floor was the girls' room (also decorated) and the infant room. We visited with the infants for a while and they were adorable!

Yared led us back downstairs to say goodbye to Tarikua. We gave her hugs again and she kind of ignored us :)



We then had the special treat to celebrate a traditional Ethiopian Easter dinner and coffee ceremony at the Yared's home! Yared has a beautiful home and was so gracious to invite us to experience the culture first hand. His two sons were dressed in little green suits, and they were so adorable and very sweet. They gave us handshakes and hugs to welcome us in their home.



We sat down for a dinner of injera (a spongy bread used to pick up food rather than a fork), Doro Watt (my favorite! chicken cooked in a spicy sauce with Berberi spice), and Tibbs (lamb). The night before that very lamb was grazing in Yared's grassy area before they slaughtered it themselves.



We were not in "Kansas" anymore!

After dinner, we were treated to a coffee ceremony. If you didn't know, Ethiopia is the birthplace of coffee and coffee is Ethiopia's biggest export. Of all the coffee I drink, Ethiopia by far is my favorite bean. A coffee ceremony consists of roasting the beans over a small fire in the home and then everyone smells the roasted beans and then they make coffee with it. It's all very ceremonial and beautiful and it was one of my favorite parts of the dinner. And it tasted AMAZING!



By this time is was 3 or 4:00 in the afternoon and I felt like we had had a pretty full, culturally eye opening day, but it wasn't going to end there. There were two other men from IAN who we had shared the day with, George and Monty. They had the great idea to go to The Stadium and watch the Ethiopia vs. Egypt soccer game, which is a big match up in Ethiopia. Nick, of course, heard soccer and was sold.

Our plan was to head to The Stadium and purchase tickets when we got there. The Stadium was sold out and there were people everywhere on the street. As soon as people could see we were trying to buy tickets, they started to surround us. I was getting a little nervous because we were shoulder to shoulder with all these men who were taller than me trying to get us to buy their tickets. The cops were getting angry at the gathering crowd and started swinging their billy clubs at the people. The mob kept getting larger as more people were interested in the "forenjis" (foreigners).

We had no luck getting tickets, which I was pretty relieved about, and decided to watch the game at a hotel. On our way out we saw a group of people who had climbed the stadium lights and were watching the game from about 4 stories up on the lights.



It was a pretty incredible day and a head first jump into Ethiopia. The highlight for sure being our sweet baby girl and I can't wait to see her tomorrow!!!"

"Travel to Ethiopia Eve"

I can hardly believe it's here! I'd be lying if I said there was never a thought that this day might not ever arrive. If you followed our emotional journey, you know my faith has been tested on every level. As I look back on the past 2.5 years, where of course hindsight is 20/20, I can see where God had the most perfect plan that I myself could have never imagined. There were times when I couldn't see Him anywhere but then realized He had walked ahead of us to prepare the way. Times where I felt like we were walking in the dark without an ounce of light, only to find that He was behind pushing me when I was utterly afraid to move. When I felt like each obstacle and trial He put us through was entirely too much, He stood by me, held me and said "No, my child, it's just what you need to prepare you for the ultimate adventure I have for you." A mommy to 4 amazing children! So here we are, two and a half years into our adoption journey, at the eve of our trip to Ethiopia. Tomorrow night we will fly 12 hours to Istanbul, Turkey and another 6 hours to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia where our beautiful, little girl is waiting. The moment we saw her smile light up her face, we fell in love. We've been blessed to receive pictures, photos, and personality updates from all the other families in our agency. And they all say the same thing: she's gorgeous, so sweet, loves to cuddle, has amazing hair, and has a killer smile. We cannot wait to meet her!!! We will arrive on Sunday morning and get to meet Miss T the next day. We will get 2 hours a day to visit and get to know her. Our adoption court date is Wednesday and until that time we cannot tell her that we are her mommy and daddy. The hope, obviously, is to pass court that day and when you wake up Wednesday morning we will have already posted a picture of our newest family member. I cannot wait to introduce her to you!!! I hope to update everyday on our blog, to tell you and show you all the adventures we have planned. This is a chapter in our lives we will never forget, and praise the Lord, He will continue to walk with us every step of the way!

A Surprise Under the Christmas Tree

Two weeks ago, I sat down and wrote this post, "I started this blog to share my love for Christ and the joy of His call in our lives. Little did I know the spiritual journey I was embarking on. Many dark, empty days were looming in the mere moments following the first letter I typed. The first few entries I wrote were full of excitement and praise, and my feelings dripped with overwhelming love for my Savior. But as the months went by and the trials became more painful and difficult to wade through, my words became fewer and my entries further and further apart, and the praise was harder to find on my lips. I'm a work in progress...never perfect, never close. Numerous words of anger, bitter tears, and screaming my rage at God, turned to defiance, rebellion, and utter silence to the God I once completely claimed as my victory. It's almost December 1st. Two year and a half years after our adoption journey began and still we wait. Our hope for our baby girl, Aselah, ended in May. Our expectation for 5 year old Kalekidan, was ripped away in August. We are the top of the waiting list. The most accessible age group. Special Needs accepted. Silence. God, where is this child You promised? The one we said we would make our own according to Your word in James? I am at a fork in the road. Our paperwork is expiring and all needs to be updated. Our finances are dwindling. My patience is growing thin. Do we continue on the path we felt laid out by God, but where we see doors constantly closing? Or stop and wait on Him?" That was 2 weeks ago. I never posted it. Nick and I were struggling with what direction we would go and we prayed hard that God would show up and show us the way. The following Sunday, Pastor Tim was speaking over the Sovereignty of God. How He is in control over the good and the bad. It was such a powerful message and helped me realize that it's not necessarily going to be easy but it needs to be all for His glory. We felt convicted to continue to move forward. It was more of chasing the paper trail, making trips to Chicago and Springfield for re-fingerprinting and certifying paperwork. Its time consuming, unexciting work, but has to be done to keep your file up to date. I called our adoption agency on Thursday afternoon to update her on our document status and heard the same phrase, "We don't have any children yet." I wasn't surprised. I would have been surprised to hear different. I told her that was fine, and we would continue to wait. Friday morning I went online to look at the waiting children for our agency. I look quite often and have never found a situation that fits our own. But this morning was different... The first child listed was a 6 year old girl. Just being curious, I clicked on her picture. This smiling little girl waving at the camera captured my heart in an instant. She was beautiful and you could just feel the joy in her smile. I immediately texted Nick and told him to look at her profile. We called the agency to get more information about this little girl called TA. We discovered that she is a 6 year old girl who was orphaned at the age of 1, due to the death of her mother. She fit every requirement we had for our adoption. I was in love. Nick was in love. This precious girl was our daughter. On Friday afternoon, Nick and I accepted the referral of our fourth child. We are so excited to announce the addition of Kellerstrass baby #4, Tarekua...more details to come!

Carried for A Thousand Miles...

"No one will be able to stand against you all the days of your life. As I was with Moses, so I will be with you; I will never leave you nor forsake you." Joshua 1:4-6 Three years to the date, Nick and I announced to our family and friends our desire to answer the call to adopt a beautiful baby girl from Ethiopia. We were excited and ready to face the challenges and roller coaster that we heard adoption could bring knowing that at the end, we would have another child to call our own. Two months later we got the call that changed our view of life forever...my mom was sick with leukemia. For the next 3 months our nights and weekends were spent in the hospital watching my Beautiful mother wither from a strong, intelligent woman to skin and bones who couldn't even use her hands to feed herself. I would never in a million years wish for anyone to see the sights I saw in that cancer ward. I will forever be scarred by the memories of those last months. Sometimes it's a like a nightmare playing over and over in my mind. The last day. The last hours. The last moments. The last breath. No one should ever have to experience the pain of losing a loved one. It's an ocean of pain that drags you under and holds you there until you cannot breathe. You get a wave of relief where you can finally suck in enough air just to be dragged right back down again. And so it goes, over and over and over, until finally you're too weak to cry anymore. Shortly after my moms passing, Ethiopia started making changes to their adoption policies. In an attempt to protect the children from child trafficking and unethical adoptions they were processing fewer adoptions. Rumors began that the country was moving towards closing down adoptions all together. That in itself was a constant up and down of emotions. The wait time kept getting longer and longer... Emotionally drained. Physically exhausted and spiritually lost. My faith faltered and my hope faded. Doubt moved in. God had failed. He didn't show up. And He didn't care. If no one was truly looking out for my best interests then I would look out for myself. Life on your own is hopeless. There is no peace. No joy. No reason to live. In May, we decided to leave our adoption agency for another one that was smaller with shorter wait times. We were able to find a waiting child and there was a 4-6 month timeline to bring her home. Our goal was to get her home by Christmas this year, and we were so excited! Our sweet little girl's name is Kalekidan and she was completely abandoned and living in a government orphanage with little supervision. We instantly fell in love and dreamed about life with our little Kalli Sue. My summer consisted of updating all the previously completed paperwork that had expired. At the same time, God began doing a work in my life and restoration of my faith was returning. Over and over, I was hearing how God is good. And only good. His will may not be our will but it's not to hurt us, it's to protect us. I was realizing that through it all, God was walking with us. In the days and months when I felt God wasn't there and couldn't possibly care, I realized He was carrying me. When I cried out into darkness without a sense of response, he was whispering promises in my ears. He never left me, He held me in my pain. He carried me when I couldn't possibly move forward on my own. He never left my side. Today we got the devastating call...Kalekidan's paperwork could not be completed and the police could no longer move forward in their investigation. Kalekidan would not ever be adoptable by us or any other family for that matter. An abandoned child with no hope of ever having a family. I waited for the pity party to begin and so far my heart is filled with peace. My God is good and only good. I believe He has Kalekidans best interests in mind and that He loves her. I believe He will be her family and her home. I believe He will provide for our family when it is His time. we don't know what our next plan of attack will be. Honestly, we are uncertain which direction we will take, but we know God's will and desire is for us to abide in Him and take comfort in Him. That He is in control of our lives, and we are in no better place than His arms. And in this we will find refuge. "After all You are constant. After all You are only good. After all You are sovereign. Not for a moment did you forsake me. Not for a moment will You forsake me"

Epic Fail

One of the greatest blessings this world can offer is the gift of salvation through Jesus Christ. It's a lesson I've been relearning each year of my life and during each trial. This past year, my relationship with Christ and my belief in His character has also caused the greatest strife in my life.

Because when you accept Jesus, you also accept the spiritual battle that is being waged for your soul.

Satan is the Master Deceptor, and he wants nothing more than to take the joy and redemption from your walk with Christ. Satan wants to destroy this gift you've been given and turn you back to a child of darkness.

And he's been playing hard with me.

For a year now, he's been whispering the most evil lies into my ear, and in my doubt and sadness, I've believed him. It's an ugly truth and one that has kept me from sharing my thoughts, feelings, and journey with all of you. But by Grace, I'm seeing my failure.

I'm realizing some of the misconceptions I have about God based on my own human perceptions and "satanic convictions". My mom's two year battle with breast cancer, leukemia, and all the complications and near death experiences caused by this disasterous disease drew me closer to God like never before. The nurses and doctors were calling her their "Miracle Girl", but we all knew who performed the miracle. Her life and story was a testimony to so many people, it was hard not to stand up on a table and shout...

"THIS IS MY GOD!!!"

But the night that she died, it was a shock and huge slap in the face.

I remember being with her during her last few hours and my entire family crying out to God with eager anticipation for His next miracle. We knew He was using her story for His glory, and I was confident that He was going to step in and wow us all.

When my mom took her last breath, I was confused. I may have even looked around with questions on my face, I don't remember, but I clearly remember thinking, "He missed it. He came too late. He failed."

As so I've been wrestling with this mentality and doubt all year.

I'm a control freak and I've always struggled with trusting people with responsibility, relationships, and my feelings because I fear they will fail me. But I've always been taught that God will never fail us. The agony in losing that hope overtook me and I put up a wall between God and I.

If no one can be trusted to put my good first then I will trust the only one who is looking out for me and my desires...myself.

My other misconception of God has truly been a lifelong battle to overcome. I can honestly say, I'm still there yet. To me God is distant. He sits on a throne up in the sky moving people around like chess pieces. The little things in life are not a concern for Him...

BUT if we sin He is right there to knock our pieces over.

To me God is about discipline. I put Him in a box that only I can understand. I don't "get" unconditional love. I'm a "do-er", a hardworker. Everything I own, I work for. I take pride in my clean home, my well fed family, my servant heart. I worry that if my kids are acting out or a hair is out of place, then no one would want to associate with my out of control famiy, or that I am failing my husband.

I am Martha, and I earn your love and approval by my actions and talents.

At the same time, I'm completely insecure and need a lot of reassurance of one's love, so I work even harder to earn it. I know if I fail, then I've disappointed someone and somehow that truth is unbearable for me to live with.

But with God, relationships don't work this way. I can't earn my way to Him, I can't earn His approval.

I already have it.

He already loves me.

Unconditionally.

I just can't wrap my head around it. I've "done" nothing to deserve it, and if anything, I deserve the wrath and punishment I feel should be coming. I know I've disappointed Him with my life. So I see the bad things in my life as my punishment.

So here I am today at a fork in the road. Where will I choose to head this day forward?

Our pastor, Tim Harkness, has been in an amazing series and he spoke right to my heart the past few weeks. His message, along with some convicting worship, opened my eyes to some of these false convictions I've been allowing to capture my thoughts.

Will I allow my personal grief and misconceptions of Christ to make my heart cold or will I trust that He knows if a sparrow falls to the ground, and the number of hairs on my head, or more importantly that my mom's life coming to an end was a part of His greater plan and not a mistake.

Will I believe that He never fails and sees all. Will I learn to understand, as Pastor Tim said, "What I DO is not 'to be loved'. I AM LOVED!"

I still have a lot to learn and process, but I believe God will help me find my way back to trusting Him.

"Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. Indeed the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows." Luke 12:6,7

The Forgotten

Let's all be honest with ourselves...I'm not very good at this blog thing. I will never be one of those people who have sponsors that pay a person for their blog. So I will make no promises here today that I officially commit to my blog or that I will do a better job of keeping my "followers" (sounds like a cult when you say it that way) updated. Don't expect it.

There I said it. The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem.

It's been nine months today since my mom passed away after her short but hard fought battle with leukemia. I woke up this morning feeling down. Feeling defeated, but God wanted to use this day for good. I can feel him all around me, moving my heart. I do my devotions at night, which I'm thinking I need to change, because the first two articles I read on Facebook were about the mission of foster care/adoption. Then my car ride dropping kids off at various schools was full of worship music talking about miracles, God's unmatchable capabilities and how HE is always there. It was just the pep talk I needed to realize that I'm the luckiest person I know to have the influence of my mom for 30 years.

My mom's purpose in life? To be the best mother/grandma in the world and to glorify God in her life. And what legacy has she left for me to follow? To be the best mother that I can be and to glorify God in my life.

So where does that put us? It's been awhile since we've left an update of our adoption journey and ALOT has changed. Ethiopia is at a stand still. For four months there was not ONE referral of any child to any family. A complete stalemate. We cried, we vented..and we waited.

Much to our surprise, we started feeling the stir towards foster care. We prayed about it and really felt directed to get our foster license. The wait time for our Ethiopian adoption was stretching towards another 2 year wait for our referral, and we really felt it was time to bring another child into our home. September 26th we started the 9 week training session towards getting our foster care license. We just finished our 6th week last night and will be officially licensed foster care parents on November 28th. We are so excited for what this potentially means for our family in the next few months!

So you may be wondering about what this means for Ethiopia. Well, within the last week 2 referrals of baby girls were given from our agency!!! These were such exciting emails to get. That means that we are currently #41 on the Ethiopian waiting list to receive a referral. It also means that if this trend continues, it will still be another year before we receive a referral, and then approximately another 4 months before we would bring her home. Our agency only asks that we wait a year between bringing new children into our home, which should not affect either any foster placements or our adoption.

Our hearts have just been rocked by the foster care system in the last 2 months. There are nearly 500,000 children in the United States waiting for a family to call their own. At no fault of their own, they are placed in foster care or group homes because their parents were unable to care for them due to drug/alcohol abuse, physical abuse, sexual abuse, mental illness, etc.

Most international adoption cases I've come upon are due to poverty, illness, or even death due to these situations. But in our wealthy, powerful nation we have children without parents due to situations that have caused them to see or experience trauma beyond what many of us can imagine. My heart breaks for these children whose innocence has been taken from them against their will. And my heart breaks for their parents who are so lost and alone that they will do anything to numb the pain. Most likely, the parents witnessed or experienced the same pain they are inflicting on their own children, but don't know how to break the cycle.

Nick and I are hoping to foster either a single child or a pair of siblings up to 3 years of age.

Do the math...

That technically means that within the next year, we could double the size of our little crew of kids. Does this scare me...yes, a little. But at the same time, I've never been more convinced that this is the mission that God has called and equipped Nick and I to do since the moment we asked Jesus to come into our lives. My prayer is that His heart for the "least of these" would become my heart. He is rocking our world and our view of what we want our legacy to be.

What do you want to be remembered for?

"...if you spend yourselves on behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noonday. The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame." Isaiah 58:10, 11

Batman and Roger...

I never thought this day would come. For 7 years now, my life has been solely dedicated to meeting the various needs of babies.

But things are changing...

The diapers are packed away and unneeded. The pacis have been tossed into the trash. There's no more midnight feedings or lifting a little one out of its crib to comfort. No more stroller rides, baby swings, high chairs, onesies, etc.

My baby is three today! Its such a momentous occasion and so bittersweet. I used to look at envy at the moms who could sit on the park bench as their children played, while I ran around corraling two toddlers with a baby on my hip. I dreamed for the day when backyard play meant I actually got to sit in the lawn chair with a good book that I had all set up waiting for me when I got a moments break.

Those times never came and I went to bed exhausted and praying for a second of peace for tomorrow.

But the time has finally come for me to sit...and sit...and sit and wait for my kids to ask me to join them. It's bittersweet because I do enjoy the quiet and the moments to catch up on good book, but I miss their need for me. I miss them asking me to push them, play with them, talk to them. They don't need me anymore, they have the neighbors and cousins and other playmates. Wrigley has moved on past diapers and pacis. He would rather jump on the trampoline with a friend than bounce with me.

But he still has his moments, usually when he's tired. Then he puts his arms up like a little baby to be held and holds my ears...



Wrigley's due date was September 11th but because all my other births were c-sections, he would be a repeat as well. My delivery date was set for September 4th and even though my mom personally begged the doctor to move it to September 3rd (her 50th birthday)he said he wouldn't operate on Thursdays...so the 4th it was.

Somewhere around the 26th I started getting really itchy. There was no rash but my hands and the palms of my feet were unbearably itchy. My doctor told me to take some Benadryl to relieve the itchiness in case it was an allergic reaction.

It didn't work and the next day the doctor decided to do some more research. That night Nick's best friend, Greg, offered to babysit the kids so we could go on one final date before the delivery of our third child. While at dinner, my ob called and informed me that my liver was leaking into my blood stream and that our best option was to deliver the baby sooner. We made plans for that Saturday, August 30th.

The morning I was to deliver was uneventful. Nick and I left around 6 am and went to a nearly deserted hospital because of the weekend. Everything went according to plan and by 8:30 I was in the operating room.

Based on my other deliveries, I knew that my baby would be out in 10 minutes and I would be in recovery within 30. However, I didn't know that my uterus had already ruptured and that my poor baby boys hair was visible when they opened me up. I should have known when my experienced doctor said, "What is that?" That something was not right.

It took 3 times longer than expected and at 9:32 a.m. my little Wrigley James Kellerstrass was born. After another hour and a half in the operating being sewn back up, I was in the recovery room waiting to be reunited with my new son.

During this time, Nick had rolled Wrigley out to meet his big brother and sister. They were anxiously waiting with their Grandmas and Grandpas to meet their new little man and learn his name. Someone asked Amra what she thought of her new baby brother and her response, "He's a mess!!!"

Fast forward three years and I think this still identifies my crazy baby. He is ALL boy and is as active as they come. He is all fun and loves to laugh. As the third, he's my most laid back kid with a great sense of humor. But I'll tell you one thing, he's the one that has me constantly scratching my head thinking where did that kid come from? He is another species all together...his father's species.

We love you so much Wrigley James and although you constantly keep me on my toes, you are a true blessing from God and I am the luckiest person ever to be able to call you my son. Happy 3rd Batman Birthday, my little Wriggsy Piggs!!!

3 months in five minutes...

or ten. I tend to be long winded. Since the end of May, we have made huge strides in our adoption. Every time we checked another box off our timeline list of things to do, I felt guilty that I didn't put it on the blog. But like I said yesterday, I didn't feel much like opening my soul to the world, so I just kept to myself. But now is the time to catch everyone up to where we currently stand.

On May 23rd, we had our fingerprint appointment with Homeland Security. These fingerprints are run through the FBI to make sure we are not big time criminals. Luckily, we passed...besides a few tickets, Nick and I are pretty upstanding citizens. The fingerprint appointment made for a nice weekend in Chicago where we took the kids to a Children's Museum, Chicago-style pizza at Giordanos and the highlight of the trip: swimming in the hotels hot tub (someone threw up in the pool so we were restricted to the hot tub...the kids didn't mind).

Two weeks after our fingerprints were taken, we received our I-171H, which is a VERY important document for an adoption and the LAST document we needed to complete our dossier!!! My friend Danae and I took a Friday afternoon to drive to Springfield to get all of our documents authenticated and to have a nice lunch.

Danae and I found a Thai restaurant that earned rave reviews and we decided to try it out. After driving to the ends of Springfield, we finally found the abandoned looking shack of a restaurant. In front of the restaurant was a run down minivan with the license plate POO VAN. We looked at each other in half horror and half humor and decided to book it out of there. We did another quick internet search and discovered they had moved the restaurant downtown. We ended up having lunch there and it was delicious, but I will always have POO VAN seared in my mind.

I'd heard rumors that almost everyone has to make two trips due to a document not be completed correctly...and this rang true for us, too. So, Monday afternoon I packed up the kids and made the return trip to Springfield to get our last document authenticated and shipped off our dossier to Children's Hope International, our adoption agency. It was an AMAZING feeling to have everything I was able to do completed.

For two weeks we waited for the documents to be shipped to the embassy in Washington D.C. During that time we had our fundraiser, Operation 127. We were able to take our new friend Kathy's house and in one day we repainted her living room, dining room, and kitchen, installed new countertops, painted and installed new hardware for her cabinets, painted the entire exterior of her home, and installed a permanent air conditioner for her. We were so blessed to be working alongside 30 volunteers of our family and best friends. It was a wonderful day for all, and helped raise $4200 towards our adoption. Talk about blown away!

On June 24th we got the news. I was so excited to open the e-mail...we were officially a waiting family!!! It is such a wonderful feeling! We were #44 on a list that includes those adopting boys, girls, and sibling groups. In reality, it meant we were further on the list, but how far we are not sure. They told us that the wait time was typically 12-15 months. We were hopeful for a much shorter time and that within a year we would be bringing our little girl home.

Many uneventful weeks went by and we were happy to wait without any responsibility on my shoulder of things I needed to do. Unfortunately, we noticed there were not any referrals being given in the meantime. We waited and waited but nothing. At the end of July, we received an upsetting email from our agency. Do to some issues in Ethiopia, the government was closing down 18-20 orphanages in Southern Ethiopia so that they could begin to focus more on humanitarian aid. The children were all moved into other orphanages, but referrals were being stopped for the moment. I felt defeated again.

Adoption is an emotional journey. There are so many moments of excitement, moments of waiting, and more moments of disappointment. I'd heard it all, but thought for sure our journey would be a smooth one...I guess I am not the exception :)

Currently we are still waiting and in two months we've moved one spot. #43. To me it seems so unreal and like it will never happen. I'm so used to getting pregnant, feeling instantly bonded to the life inside of me and knowing that in 38 precious weeks, I will hold my baby forever and ever. Adoption is so different. Nick says its like a period in a pregnancy where guys kind of disconnect from it all because they don't have the same bonding feeling. They kind of forget about the pregnancy it is not all consuming for them. I guess I'm just getting to experience how all my pregnancies felt to Nick. It's hard, especially for a control freak, however I'm learning all about God's perfect timing.

I'm learning that right now not having to stress about timelines and paperwork and just waiting without an end in sight is a great way for me to continue to focus on myself and heal. So at this point, my prayer is that we will bring our little girl home in the next year or so, but we will patiently wait and see.

Please be in prayer for the orphans in Ethiopia who really would love to be with a forever family and whose cases are being stalled due to the government shutdown. Also be in prayer for the people of Africa who are facing one of the worst drought and famine they have had in decades. These are our brothers and sisters around the world and they need our prayers and support!

If I say I'm sorry, will you take me back...

It's been almost a year since I first started this blog. A chance to take the down the walls surrounding our little family and share the journey to bringing our daughter home from Ethiopia. A way to share the ups and downs of our daily walk and to be honest about the emotional struggles of highs and lows that we were to experience. But also a way for friends and family to follow this process and to know how to pray for us each step of the way.

I never intended to drive our blog into the ground...

But I also never intended the Titanic size year that we would have and how many emotions (good, bad, UGLY) that we would go through. I never knew that we would experience the life altering year that battered us to rag dolls. I never expected that I would be so raw that the only thing that I really wanted to do was dig a hole and escape.

Avoidance became my coping mechanism. In general, I'm a selfish person. I like my "free time" in the afternoon while the kids take some quiet time for themselves. I like to have my nights at home staring at the tv with Nick at my side. It's not really romantic, but just being together is enough.

But even as a selfish person, I try my best to help others out. I enjoy being a hostess in my home to friends and family. I enjoy taking care of kids while their parents are able to run errands, enjoy a morning off, or just take a breather for a bit. I like being there for someone who just needs someone to talk to. But this summer was different.

This summer I dropped off the face of the earth. Not in a depressed, hopeless way, but as a way to allow myself time to grieve. I gave my kids all of my attention and did not seek to satisfy any one else's needs. It all seems so selfish, but it was so needed.

This summer was not pretty, not by any means. I struggle with emotions, especially sadness. I HATE to cry. It makes me feel sick, ugly, and then even worse than I did before because I feel sick and ugly. My sadness comes out in anger and avoidance towards people who I feel most vulnerable too.

Unfortunately, the people I care the most about receive the biggest brunt of my anger. My husband, my children, my family, and my closest friends. In July after yelling at Nick for probably the 100th time that day, he confronted me about it. To me, it's just venting and letting that deep hurt out, but to him its a constant stab and cut to him and all that he does for me.

That night laying in bed, I started thinking about all that I was feeling and realized that I was affecting my relationships and I could do something about it. I may have been in an abyss of pain and sadness, but I didn't have to drive the people I care most about away. In fact, I needed them close to me. In that moment, I decided that in order save what I hold most dear, I needed to let my mom go and move forward.

It's the thing that is the hardest to do. To say you are moving on, is to say that you accept this life without her and that it's ok. It's saying that you are forgetting the very memory of the person whose biggest request is that they not be forgotten. It almost feels like you are turning your back on the person you just wish could be with you all the time.

But it's not. It's a tribute. It's saying I'm going to keep living because she would want me to. She wouldn't want me feeling angry at the world on her behalf, she'd want me to take my kids in my arms and kiss them thousands of times and hug them so hard that there is no mistake that I love them. She'd want me to honor and respect my husband and to be the God-fearing wife and mother that she was to us. She'd want me to embrace my friends and not run from them. She'd want me to be an example of the woman that she raised me to be.

That was six months after her death and it was like a weight lifted off my shoulders. I couldn't carry that longing pain anymore.

I'm not sorry for the selfish way I spent my summer. If anything, it healed a broken family from the unstable ground we had been walking for two years. Healing is beginning in myself, my husband, my children, our family. We will walk out of this stronger, better, and closer to Jesus.

I am sorry that I let so much time pass and so many major steps go by in our adoption without sharing them with all of you. I look forward to reopening our blog and sharing with all of you what we've been up to and where we are in the process. We are so grateful to each one of you for your prayers, support, and patience as we dealt with circumstances far out of our control. We relish the day that we get to bring home our little girl whose name will represent the woman I most wanted to be...my mom.

PS Here is a song I wanted to share with you all that has been in my heart this summer.

My Grief Observed...

It's been 5 months.

Five months of sadness that still takes my breath away. Every day there is a new memory made without her.

And it's like a slap in the face.

Easter, Mother's Day, Father's Day, Birthdays, Fourth of July: all of the firsts...are like a reminder that it is just the beginning of the last. Sometimes these celebrations seem so bleak and I just want to scream, "I don't want to live the rest of my life like this! I don't want this to be the first of what will always be missing. I don't want a life without her!!!"

It's hard to celebrate momentous occasions or celebrate the milestones we've made in our adoption because the first person I want to tell is not there. My mom was the only person who gets as passionately worked up and emotionally involved in the things that I get passionately worked up and emotionally involved in.

But she's not here to call.

When I think about that last night, it knocks the wind out of me. It's so hard to get past certain thoughts and moments that it's easy to forget to start breathing and I feel hyperventilation creeping in. It's in those moments I have to completely shut off my mind and stop the flow of memory. It's a suffocating feeling.

People don't ask about her anymore. They don't mention her. They apologize if they accidentally say "your mom and dad." There's always an awkward silence whenever I mention my mom in the present, like "my mom does this or that,", "my mom's house", "that's my mom's favorite...". No one means anything by it, they just don't want to hurt my feelings. But she is my mom, my best friend, and I don't want people to forget.

I don't want to move on. And this is the struggle in my journey.

It's hard to accept that there is a reason and God's timing is best. The earthly pain of it all is hardly bearable. If I let it consume me, I just have to close my eyes and sleep because I can't stand the sadness.

There is some comfort though.

I was looking right at her as she took her last breath. And the palpable feeling that her soul immediately left her body, filled the room. I'd heard the stories, but to witness this spiritual transformation was a moment of peace.

There is peace because I know where that soul went. My mom is not dead, she is more than alive. She has a new body with no hurt, no pain, no sickness...no sadness. And though I weep down here, she intercedes on my behalf that I would rejoice knowing she is with our Father. And someday, I will see her again.

PS. I didn't fall off the face of the earth. I'm just taking a life sabbatical: spending time with my kids and husband and seeking God in the process.

Operation 127

Make video montages at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Happy Birthday Monkey Girl...

At 5:30 a.m., we crossed the bridge. Silently we sat...

fingers interlocked. Stomachs fluttering.

We'd waited for this day for 9 months. 38 weeks to be exact. The day our first little girl would be born. It was a scheduled c-section. Estimated time of birth? 7:00 a.m.

No labor. No pain.

A very structured, Type A birth for a very structured, Type A personality. My dream birth story.

They wheeled me upstairs (which always makes me feel awkward because I'm perfectly capable of walking to the elevator myself) and take me to the waiting room.

For those of you who don't know, the pre-labor waiting room is ridiculously small. This is not like your standard labor, delivery, and post birthing room where there is room for an entire army. There is room for one hospital sized bed, the heartbeat monitor and a couple stools. It's cramped and lucky for us, we were only going to be stuck in there about a 1/2 hour.

They hooked me up to the monitor, took my health history, read me the risks of a cesarean, and I signed my life away. Literally. Ten minutes until take off...

And then the unthinkable. Some other pregnant lady decided to have an emergency of her own and take up the entire surgical room! How could someone bust in on my perfect schedule and push everything back another 2 hours!!! Not only that but the fluids they kept pumping in my IV made me need to visit the bathroom every 15 minutes (which is not easy to do in a hospital gown while pulling an IV pole.)

I was aggravated.

But when they came in and said another woman had an emergency, and then a THIRD, I just had to laugh in humor. I lay in bed trapped by my gown that made it far to embarrassing to leave the tiny cave of a room. Nick couldn't handle the claustrophobia any longer and had to leave. My mom and Nick's mom took turns keeping me company...and we just waited.

All afternoon...

Finally at 3:00 p.m., nine and a half hours after our journey to the hospital began they walked me to the operating room. Yes, I walked. I needed to move.

It took fourteen minutes and at 3:14 p.m. our beautiful little Amra Grace was welcomed to this world. She came with a thick head of beautiful black hair and full lips that made the prettiest pout. And that day she became our "little monkey girl."

Amra brings so much joy and happiness into our home...not to mention drama (she IS a girl). But she is the sweetest, cuddliest little girl and I will never forget the first time I held her in my arms and knew that I would spoil that little girl rotten.

Happy 5th Birthday Amra Grace, we love you so much and are so blessed to call you our daughter!

The Best Decision of My Life...

On May 20, 2000, I walked out my parents' front door and took a step into a new life. I hopped into the old beaten up green Bronco, Nick's first car, and took in a deep breath. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw the dress bag. The enormous white dress and its beautiful train completely covered the back window.

It was hard to believe the day I'd been waiting for my entire "short" life had come. I started the engine, put it in drive and pushed on the gas. As I headed full speed into adulthood...an epiphany.

Des'ree voice came over the speakers and the whole way to the church I sang this song:



I walked down that aisle with full confidence that I was making the best decision of my life.

There wasn't a dry eye in the house...except for mine.

The City of Addis...

In awe that I get to bring my daughter home from this beautiful country, culture, and people. Inspires me more to never let her forget where she is from. We are getting so close and it still feels so surreal. The excited little butterflies are beginning to flutter in my stomach, she's one day closer to being home!

The City of Addis - A short documentary from Session 7 Media on Vimeo.

Follow the Yellow Brick Road...

Many are asking..."So...where are you on this adoption journey?"

Good question. And I have answers.

After a fast paced start and a looooong winter of waiting, we've finally made some progress. Things that may seem little to others are actually BIG steps forward for those going through an adoption. We finished our home study back in February but it took a couple weeks for the state to approve the document. Then you have to send in an application to Immigration and Home Land Security for fingerprints. That application took another couple weeks, and then they send you an appointment to get the actual fingerprints taken.

Not like the instant response from e-mail, text, and facebook. No, we are talking snail mail here, people.

Anyway, our fingerprint date is May 23rd. While we are waiting for the fingerprints, I am collecting the final documents and paperwork needed for our dossier (the paperwork sent to Ethiopia for government approval). This is the last big step! Our hope is to get our fingerprints back by the middle of June and send these along with our dossier to our agency...

And then we wait...and wait...and wait some more.

The current waiting time for a referral for an infant girl has been ranging around 5 1/2 to 6 1/2 months. That means we could be receiving a match and picture of our little girl around December! It still seems so surreal and far away for us, but we know that every waiting minute leads us closer.

In the meantime we are doing little things like: getting our passports - check, preparing the house and nursery - check, and planning Service Projects/Fundraisers.

In case you haven't heard, Nick and I, along with 28 other volunteers of friends and family are doing a Service Project based on James 1:27, "Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from becoming polluted by the world."

On June 11, we are doing an "Extreme Home Makeover" type work project for a local widow. We are planning to repaint the entire interior and exterior of her home, replace the flooring, cabinets, and countertops, and other various home projects that her house needs. We are looking for people to sponsor our work day. 100% of the gifts donated will go to help support both the work day and our adoption fund.

If you are interested in supporting "Operation 127", please send tax deductible donations to I CARE, Inc. PO Box 1603 Bel Air, MD 21014. Please designate Nick and Erin Kellerstrass in the memo of your check, or you may donate online at www.intlcare.org.

Thank you so much for your ongoing prayers and financial support. We have been incredibly blessed by the outpouring of love from those closest to us and those we don't even know!

A Meeting of God...

Only He could have coordinated a meeting like this.

This is something I'm so sure of that I revel in the excitement of what this could mean.

For her. For us. For our child.

We wanted to help but everywhere we looked we couldn't find someone in need. We tried churches, we asked friends and family, we even called The Salvation Army. Those doors all closed. But we prayed that we could help someone who truly needed and wanted help.

And we waited.

She was at home. Praying. Seeking peace. She woke up determined to let her heart move on past the grief. It's been two years and he still leaves shadows throughout her house.

It took her a week to paint one bedroom wall...and another to recover. She was unable to brighten the home that held so many memories. Memories that kept her from embracing life alone. The only thing that she could change were the pictures hanging that served as a constant reminder.

It was time to take initiative. She reached out to a close friend and told her that the only way she knew she could move forward was to update and brighten her home. And that close friend knew just the people who wanted to help.

A month ago we didn't know Kathy. We didn't know her story and we didn't know her need.

But God did.

She is now a dear friend of ours and someone that I can relate to. A loss so overpowering that sometimes just putting the pictures away means something more significant. To realize that life after death is not just a betrayal but a necessary step.

We aren't just helping Kathy get new flooring, new cabinets and countertops, and an entirely new paint job. We are helping her find her life again, and she is helping me to find mine.

It's a meeting only He could have coordinated.

That's My King!

It's Only Friday...