Category Archives: CSC Kids

A lonely walk

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Imagine what it would be like to wake up knowing today is the last day you will see your child. I wonder how carefully you would choose their clothes or the last words to share with them. I wonder how hollow it would feel to stand on the sidewalk as they are driven away.

Imagine returning home without your children in tow. They were with you when you walked out of the neighborhood, but now you walk alone. Your world is upended. You’ve lost the title “mom” or “dad.” To make matters worse everyone is watching you from their front step or window. Secrets don’t keep long where you live—especially secrets like this.

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People know what you’ve done and they don’t restrain themselves from staring. This is a lonely walk back to an empty home.

You can’t believe it got to this point. How could it? You didn’t have children to abandon them. But then he left, and there were no jobs to be found. The life you dreamed of isn’t visible anymore, and you don’t have anywhere to turn. Somehow the best option became giving them away.

Sometimes when I’m speaking to a group a person will ask how our kids end up in the care of the Children’s Shelter of Cebu. I’ll confess that for most of the children a parent is still alive. “How could their parents just abandon them,” they wonder. It’s hard to explain. In our good-Christian mentality, you just don’t ever give up on your kids.

It’s hard to describe the straight jacket that is total poverty and utter hopelessness. It’s hard to explain not being able to protect or provide for your child. I can’t pretend to understand, but I know it’s easier to demonize the mom who couldn’t care for her baby than to put myself in her shoes. She doesn’t deserve to be understood because of what she’s done. Right?

I don’t know. High horses are easy to climb on when you’re propped up in a world of options. Judgment comes easy on this, but judgment has always been easier than understanding, including when a mom concludes her child is better off without her.  Judgment isn’t our job at CSC. Our job is to love that child the best we can. It’s the least we can do for those moms whose seperation is not the mark of selfishness, but of sacrifice.

Santa and the job quadrant

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I have a simple quadrant system to rank jobs. You know a quadrant. It’s got the x-axis running left to right, and the y-axis running up and down. You’re left with four boxes to categorize whatever you’re comparing.

Here’s how my job quadrant works. The x-axis is level of professionalism: purpose, responsibility, authority and pay. A low score on professionalism puts a job on the left side, a high score on the right.

Now, here’s the y-axis: Facial hair. Yes, I’m serious. I recognize my system just eliminated more than half of humanity, and I do apologize, but it’s my system. The facial hair axis is simple: yes or no. Can you have a beard or not?

My first job at Hy-Vee Food Stores in Albert Lea, Minnesota did not allow me to have facial hair (which I couldn’t grow anyway) and I wasn’t in a professional position. So, my job was in the lower, left-hand box of the quadrant.

The only jobs I’m interested in from here on in are in the upper, right-hand box. I want to have a good job that has a lot of purpose and responsibility. And when the fancy strikes, I want to grow a beard.

You know who has the ultimate upper, right-hand box job? Santa. Who has more responsibility at work than Santa? Nobody! Not only is he allowed facial hair, but it’s expected. Beyond that, he doesn’t have to bother dying anything with Just for Men and he’s even expected to carry a little too much weight.

“Would you like a salad, Santa?”

“No, better make it a slab of bacon–gotta think of the kids.”

There’s no question, Santa has a great job. But, Santa will also have some work to do in Cebu this year. Our Field Director, Paul, will involve him in something crazy. He’s bound to get lost, arrested or mobbed by elves. I don’t honestly know what Paul has planned, but Santa will have to work to get to our kids.

There are a lot of new children at the Children’s Shelter of Cebu this Christmas. Some will no doubt be horrified when Santa is drug away in handcuffs, but they’ll just have to look to the kids who’ve been around a little longer. They’ll be smiling knowingly…the gifts will come.

Indeed, the gifts will come, and so will the truth: Santa isn’t why we celebrate Christmas at CSC. He’s in a manger, on a cross and at the right hand of our Father. CSC isn’t just about the safe bed, regular meals and loving caregivers. Come live with us, and you’ll be in a place to heal, to laugh at Santa and to learn about your Savior.

And, if you come work for us some day, we’ll even let you grow a beard.

You came just in time

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Remir on patrol in his last high school soccer game.

Remir has now played his last high school soccer game.  That doesn’t seem possible.  Four years ago he arrived in the US knowing almost nothing about the game.  Thanks to hard work and all kinds of God-given athletic ability, he played soccer throughout high school.  I’m very proud of him.  It was an honor to cheer for him and to pace the sidelines as his dad.

It feels like we’ve just hit one of those big “lasts” and I’m not sure I’m ready.  Every parent thinks their kids grow up too fast…but try adopting a 14 year-old and then tell me about your kids growing up too fast.  I’ve had my oldest son for four years and he’s already a Senior.  It’s mind-boggling.

This transition has me thinking about all the cool teenagers I’ve met at the Children’s Shelter of Cebu who have families now.  My son has me thinking about what I’d want to say to all the Remir’s, Janice’s, Victor’s and Roselyn’s (and on and on) that I’ve known at CSC.  The ones who were “older” when they were adopted.  I don’t entirely know what “older” means, but a lot of these kids came to the States and jumped right into middle school.  I guess that’s “older” when it comes to adoption.

Every one of you kids is amazing.  Amazing.  Sometimes your parents (like me) get credit for things that we don’t deserve.  People sometimes treat us like heroes because we chose to adopt kids who weren’t babies, because we adopted kids who were young adults.  They think we’re making a difference in the world because we added you to our families.  As if we chose you so we could make a difference in the world.  That’s not a good enough reason.  We chose you because you were just too cool to miss out on.  Maybe it took a step of faith for us, but sometimes people give credit to us when they aren’t giving enough to you.

You’re the heroes in my book.  You left everything you ever knew to go to a country that you couldn’t imagine.  You’ve made a transition that very few people can comprehend.  I try to imagine what you must have been thinking when you boarded the plane in Manila.  Wondering what your home would be like, how you’d fit with your parents and what all these new people would think of you.  I honestly can’t imagine facing that much unknown, and walking into it for the rest of my life.

I’d guess that sometimes you’d wish that you were adopted when you were younger.  That you wouldn’t have had to face the things you did in life.  That you’d speak English the same as everyone else and have memories with your family from before you started school.  I wouldn’t blame you for thinking any of these things, but I really believe you all came just in time.  You’re an example to all the people in your lives.  You’ve done so much to fit in, to catch up and to adjust.  You are a walking, talking testament to the hope of starting over.

Now you’re adopted.  You’re the pride of moms and dads like me.  You will be someone’s “ours” from now on.  I hope your lives are better because of us, but know this…ours are definitely better because of you.

Blackmail

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Just shopping the competition...

This is Joemar.  If you have been to Cebu and met him, you already get the link between the picture and the post title.

Joe is what we call a lifer…a company man.  He loves his job, works hard and looks his best when he’s in his uniform.  The problem here is that he works for McDonald’s.  Look at the guilt on his face as he polishes off a meal from their primary competition in Cebu.  He agreed to this picture even though I told him I was going to use it as blackmail.  He even held the cup out to give the shot some dimension.

I guess Joemar is a lifer at CSC too.  He arrived on July 15, 1985, and at age 35, doesn’t show any sign of moving out of the Duterte home.  Not that we would have it any other way.

I remember first meeting Joemar.  First week of the job, first trip overseas, trying to keep all kinds of balls in the air when Marlys brought him over.  It didn’t take more then a few seconds to realize Joemar has development delays, or that he loves Superman for that matter.  To this day I find it helpful to have Auntie Sandy around to translate, but I’ve learned many of the key Joemar terms.  Even if I hadn’t, he usually seems happy to show me around or have me just talk to him.  This last trip he was showing me how he could write his name.

I don’t remember what I thought when I first met Joemar, but I find myself wondering if I realized how valuable he is when I did.  Did I think “he sure is lucky to have CSC?”  Maybe, maybe not.  But, what I know I didn’t realize yet is that CSC sure is lucky to have him.  Not because he’s such a hard worker or a good roommate, but because Joemar is a gem.  He is precious, valuable and reflects light wherever he goes.

I don’t know if I thought it (I know I didn’t say it), but I suspect my attitude when I met Joemar was “poor guy.”  I know myself well enough to know that at first I was focused on what was missing when it came to Joe.  So let’s just get one thing straight: poor me.  What a sad deficit-based approach to a child of a God.  What a blessing I would have missed if I would have only seen so far as Joe’s limitations.  7 years later I thank God that He put a gem named Joemar in my life.  Not because he had something to gain, but because I did.

Though, I suppose I could have something to offer and at least explain blackmail to him.

This is what we do

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We just sent updates to the superstars who sponsor CSC children through our Foster Friends program.  Maybe you got one (if you did, thanks!).

I don’t think I’ve ever been more bummed out to do a Foster Friend update.  It’s not like I did that much work (Roger, Brenda, Joel, Amy, and Tammy all have me beat there), it’s just that I couldn’t help but think about how many kids weren’t in the mailing.  We have had so many kids leave.  We have celebrated that fact!  We worked hard to make that possible, we worked on federal legislation to see one group in particular join their family!  The kids that left did so thanking God their many prayers had been answered.  This is a good thing…I’m sure of it!

It’s just that when I did the mailing I came across Paula’s face.  She’s an awesome CSC kid.  There are lots of those.  We just seemed to hit it off from the start and I was drawn to her and her story right away.  Then she ended up sick once while I was there and I sat with her reading and playing games.  I don’t know, but something about spending time with a sick kid just makes you love them even more.  Just ask our founder and Medical Director, Marlys.

Our Paula is matched for adoption.  She and her family are simply waiting for the paperwork to clear so she can go home.  We are so excited for all involved.  I wouldn’t change any of it.  The truth is though, I’m going to miss Paula.  I will notice her absence when I head to Cebu on my next trip.  Reading the update about her leaving made me much sadder than I could have expected.  I thought about how different the population of the shelter will be since my last trip.  I thought about how fun it was to spend time with so many kids who are now gone.

This is what we do.  We do the best we can for children who were orphaned.  An adoptive family is a part of that philosophy.  We know better than to hope any child will stay at CSC for the long haul.  Some do, and that’s okay, but we take all of them in hoping they’ll have a family some day.  This is for the best.

While I worked on the update with my sullen attitude I understood a bit of what it must be like for our Cebu-based staff.  They don’t come and go from Cebu on short visits.  They live there.  They love those kids with their lives.  They give without really letting up.  And then after all that work, and as a result of all that work, kids leave and they move on.  I’m not entirely sure how they do it, but I’m glad they do.

So here’s to them, and here’s to Paula.  I will miss her more than she realizes.  And somehow, just as much, I’ll be glad she’s gone too.

Dawn…and night

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Are you as bad at waiting as I am?  I hate waiting.  I hate stoplights, lines and being on hold.  I have to admit how hard it is for me to wait for God too, to keep praying for the same thing wondering if it will ever come.

Our Six

Imagine waiting for God to give you a family.  Analiza, Jenive, Bernardo, Birny, Jeffrey and Rafael have been praying for parents since 2005.  Every day and then some.  They wait and wait with no idea if the prayer will be answered.

My devotions brought me to Isaiah 21 this morning.  After reading the repeated question, “Watchman, how far gone is the night,” verse 12 stopped me.  “The watchman says, ‘Morning comes but also night.  If you would inquire, inquire; Come back again.’”

Morning will come, the light will break at the horizon and we will have our dawn.  “…but also night.”  That’s what hit me.  There is a place for the night too.  There is darkness and unknown for a reason.  You are anxious and afraid and anticipating the new day, but there is a place for that anxiety, fear and waiting.  There is especially a place for your hope for what will come.  There is a purpose for all of it.  Keep hoping, and keep asking.  The watchman invites us to keep coming back to ask the same question when we feel the need to again.

Funny how we go to God most often when we are worrying and afraid.  No wonder there is the night.  I can be so consumed by the waiting and wondering when God will answer, that I fail to savor the fact that the waiting is drawing me to God more often than even the excitement of “arriving” can.

God will answer our prayers and open a door.  Of course, we never know if it will be the one we had in mind.  I just pray that those six kids will get the answer they’re asking for.  As I pray with them, I pray for them to be blessed in their waiting too…and that you will join me on their behalf.

She was perfect, just like you

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John Ray and Rufa Mae are ready for speaking duties.

“Nobody’s perfect.”  We’ve heard it said countless times to shrug off some mistake or shortcoming.  No question, we all make mistakes, but I think there’s fundamental error in that statement.  We’re all perfect.

I’ve been thinking about a perfect kid all week, Rufa Mae.  She died very suddenly on Tuesday.  Just like that we had to say goodbye.

Rufa was a CSC kid through and through, even though she never actually lived at the shelter.  We originally met Rufa Mae and her family through our Cebu Office Manager, lawyer and accountant, Joanna (yep, this is all one incredibly gifted person).  When Joanna met Rufa Mae and her brother John Ray, she recognized our Children of Hope School could be just the place for them.

Rufa Mae had, and John Ray has, brittle bone disease.  This condition means incredible restrictions, especially where the kids were living when we met them.  Their family would have to place them in baskets, surrounded by blankets, and carefully navigate mountain terrain to bring them anywhere.  It had made school all but impossible, which was especially tragic given the intelligence of these kids.  After Joanna referred them, CSC invited them to join our school, and eventually built the family a home near the shelter.  In the five years since we met them, the entire family has become a part of ours.  They are amazing.

You don’t need to look further than their two kids with brittle bone disease.  The disease has meant extraordinary physical restrictions, but consistently they have both been extraordinary in their response.  Rufa Mae had a smile that demanded a smile in return, her approach towards life is a lesson I won’t forget.  All week I’ve been thinking about the small stuff I fret and get frustrated by, and how small it is compared with what Rufa faced.

Rufa Mae also has me thinking about a fundamental belief I hold.  I believe God created her, just like He created you and me.  I don’t believe she was an accidental mix of cells.  I also don’t believe Rufa Mae never got to live the life she “could have.”  She certainly could have been mad at God for not making her like everyone else.  From a biological perspective, her make-up was damaged.  Her bones should not have been so brittle.  But if there is really a God who is all powerful and creating, then nothing was faulty about Rufa Mae.  If God made her just the way she was, then she was perfect.

I would like to believe this about myself, wouldn’t you?  You are either a hodge-podge of DNA and biology, or you are perfect.  You might not like this or that about yourself, but if God created you then you were missing from the place He made.  He saw a void that only you could fill. You may not be able to walk, you may not feel smart enough, you may be facing disease, but you were made that way.  It angers and confounds us.  Why can’t I just be like him or her?  Smart, pretty, strong…whatever.  But an eternal God didn’t want everyone to meet a human definition of all those things, he made us with all our self-described flaws.  He wanted you, a perfect you…so much that he created you.

Thanks Rufa Mae.  Thanks for that shining that smile and approach to life into mine, and thanks for a reminder about who I really am.

Tonight

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I am in Cebu…and I am thankful.  Just a little while ago I found myself walking up the ramp next to the Duterte Home, looking over this place that has come to mean so much to me.  Standing there in the middle of the yard, in the middle of three homes providing love and shelter to kids who need us so desperately, I silently prayed a prayer of thanks that my life has brought me here.It was a good night.  I had dinner with a number of our staff at the Healy’s house.  I was told a bathroom story that I hadn’t heard before, so that’s always fun.  Nothing says “you’re one of us” like tales from the C.R. (comfort room is restroom here in Cebu).  That reminds me.  Excuse me as I digress.  The other day I noticed we were down to the end of the last roll of toilet paper in the Duterte Home so I went to find some for a restock.  The first kid I saw was June, who is one of our nine and, well, awesome.  I asked June where I could find more toilet paper.  She approached me urgently and asked “are you CRing?”  I was able to tell her no, this wasn’t an emergency, but I appreciated her concern.

Tonight I came to the shelter from the Healy’s not sure if any kids would still be up.  I was thrilled to see the kids in Cherne watching a movie.  Before they went to bed we were able to play guitar, a board game or two, and then I led them in a quick devotion and a prayer goodnight.  We talked about Proverbs 4:23 and the importance of guarding our hearts.  50 weeks out of the year I am thousands of miles away from this, and I savor the time I have here.

On my way up to the school, where I’m writing now, I came upon our new house father Don Don.  He and Ivy are still very new members of our team.  We had a great talk about the three new kids we admitted today, the unique and 24-hour nature of his job, and then the empty lot sitting between the shelter and the school.  He and I decided we are going to round up some kids and walk over there to pray for CSC to get that space.  We were thinking the kids were just the people to have do that.  In many ways, this ministry is theirs, and I suppose kids come to prayer with hearts that have a little less noise in them sometimes.  If you think to join them, that would be appreciated.

Now, I have to figure out prizes to get should any of those kids have Proverbs 4:23 memorized when I see them tomorrow.  I’ll be hoping to have to give out a lot of them.

Jovan

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I’ve visited Cebu 6 times now.  With the exception of our adoption trip almost a year ago, I’ve left our ministry in Cebu every time thinking, "why didn’t I spend more time with the babies?"  Those school-aged kids have held the majority of my attention every trip.  This time was no exception, until I did Marlys a favor.

 

I was headed up to the shelter one night after eating with the staff at the Ohlendorfs.  Marlys asked me if I’d be willing to go up to the infirmary (the one-room thing we’re making do with now) and check the temperature of the refrigerator.  Precise temperature is no doubt important when it comes to the medicines inside of it.  Of course I agreed to try my hand at the Celsius thing.

 

Jovan was in isolation at the time.  I’m not sure I’d heard he was there.  If I had, it didn’t click enough to get me up there yet.  I was pleasantly surprised to find one of our childcare workers, a gem of a lady named Ya-Yang, taking care of Jovan.  I was absolutely floored when I looked at this baby, suddenly remembering the prayer requests for Jovan.  I need only attach a picture I took of him embedded next to his admission photo in January.  That’s 4 months of God’s goodness at CSC.  Can you believe it?!

 

This is why I love my job.  This is why I will always love CSC.  What an amazing image of grace this child’s renewed life is.  Needless to say, I visited Jovan every day after that.

An Unexpected Christmas Blessing

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Today was a big day for our kids.  My family was up to celebrate their first Christmas in the U.S.  We had fun doing a sleep over the night before, and fielded 70-100 questions about opening presents before the big moment finally arrived.  They loved it of course.  I think my proudest moment was Remir unwrapping a gift to find a Wheat Thins box and thanking Grandma and Grandpa for it politely.  What a guy!  There was more excitement behind his thanks after we prodded him to open the box itself…he was much happier with the dvd inside.
 
Not more than an hour later the phone rang.  It was a most unexpected caller.  The adoptive dad of Jeffril Ann (Angie), Neil, Michael Angelo, Paul & Crezillah was calling.  I knew they had taken off from the Philippines yesterday, so this was quick.  There was an overnight flight delay and they were stuck in the Twin Cities!  There were a few moments of being frazzled.  We had all dove into the post-opening fun of assembling/playing with/reading all the new stuff, and everyone was having a good time.  It was hard to imagine breaking it up.  On the other hand, 5 kids who shared a huge part of our kids’ lives had arrived unexpectedly.  I was speaking covertly to my mom and sister about the conundrum of when/whether to go when I quieted down because one of our kids was within earshot.  Under my breath I admitted that I didn’t dare let on or all our kids would be sitting in the car with shoes and coats on in a heartbeat.  My sister very wisely got to the heart of the matter saying, "there’s your answer then don’t you think?"  She was right, of course we had to go to see them!
 
We did the 45-minute trip down to Bloomington without a word about why.  The truth is, Theresa and I were excited.  These kids had been at the shelter since I started at CSC and we have grown to love them too.  We couldn’t wait to see them ourselves.  Our kids were looking at us very strangely when we knocked on a seemingly random hotel room door and shuffled them to the front as we stepped aside.  They were ecstatic when the door opened…I just remember a flurry of screams, jumping and hugging.  Wow it was cool.
 
I really have to hand it to the parents of these new kids for being willing to call us.  When we were at the point they are I was as mentally, physically and spiritually drained as I can ever remember being.  The adoption trip was my shortest to the Philippines and yet I had lost more weight, woke up in the middle of more nights and was more exhausted than any trip before it.  The new parents of 5 kids could have easily just decided to get some sleep before the final leg of their trip, and yet they choose to share their kids with us.  It was a night we’ll not soon forget.
 
Merry Christmas!