Know that I know you!

This was a blog I did back at the end of April. I took it down while I was in Uganda. I did not want it to cause a misunderstanding about when we learned of our children in Uganda. Now that they are home, I never want to forget this one!!

Good morning children!

This has been a big week!  I saw a picture of you for the first time. Then I cried for three days. Not a continuous cry. Just when I though about you. Which was almost continuously!

I went to the bank on Wednesday. The lady there asked me if I thought when I saw you in person for the first time, if I would just love you then. I looked back at her, smiled, and said I already do!  It was bad before I knew your names or your faces.  Knowing that I had children in the world that I just couldn't get to. But now!  Now it is a whole new level. Your world is 7 hours a head of mine. I wondered how your day has been. Have you played and smiled. Or have you been sad over your loss. Oh how I can't wait to play with you!  Hear your voices. Hear your giggle.

I know this will not be easy for you!  Little one may not even understand. How will you react? What will you think of your new home, and how long will it take before it feels like home?  Your mother is driving me nuts with thoughts of decorating your rooms. I think she wants to buy new furniture for the whole house for you....  Then again you will learn mother just likes to shop for most any reason!

Most importantly, I want you to know daddy loves you!  My heart breaks for the pain you have already experienced in life. And I know it is not fair!!  I will never try to diminish what you have gone through.  I know there will be random Tuesdays when you will feel like crying because of it. Know that in those times daddy will be there to hold you, love you, and be there for you. No, I will never try to diminish what you have gone through, but I promise with all my heart, all my might, and all God has give me, that I will do all I can to show you God's love and to provide you a happy life from here on out!!

Now that I have wept more, I am going to catch the rest of the world (ok, the few people I know) up on what is going on!

Love
Daddy

Hello World!

Long time no blog!  If you just read the above, well you probably know the jest of what is going on.  Here are the nuts and bolts.

I went to lunch with a friend of mine a couple of weeks ago. My old boss walked up to us and starting asking us how things were going. He asked me about the adoptions.  I told him the standard answer that I have become so accustom to saying, "We are officially waiting. From here it could be tomorrow or it could be three years."  He went back and told one of my previous co-works the same thing.  She, Lacy, told him about a couple in her church that were adopting from Africa. Her church supports an orphanage in Uganda. The director of the orphanage is also a head master of a "college" there.
Long story short, in the adoptions process the long wait is due to the time it takes to match children to what adoptive parents are looking for. As you can imagine most people want to adopt one child at a time and they want them to be young (mostly under a year old). Even through our adoption agency there is a "waiting children" list. These are children who are adoptable, but don't really "match" any perspective adoptive parents.  Well, that is the story of this orphanage in Uganda. Their are children there waiting for people to do as God has done for us and adopt them.

Jennifer and I have always said we would adopt a little boy 4 or younger or a brother and sister pair. At this orphanage there is a little boy who just turned 4 and he has a little sister who is about to turn 3. The moment I saw them I wept. (I know that does not take much for me!)  I knew they were my children.

We have started the process of updating our paperwork for Uganda. The paperwork for the children has been started as well. Our paperwork should be completed within two weeks. Their paperwork should be completed by the end of May. This means we should be traveling to Uganda in June or July.

In Uganda one parent must stay in country for 4 weeks. Right now the plan is for us both to go over. I will stay a week and come back for two weeks. Then I will go back for the last week. Jennifer will stay in Uganda the full time. This will require much prayer!  I am not sure how Jennifer will do being away from Kimberlee and Brody that long. The one time we took a vacation without Kimberlee, this before Brody, it almost killed her by the end of the week. She has never been away from Brody for more than a couple of days.

So here is where we need your help in prayer, numbered in order of need!

Please pray for our children in Uganda!  Pray for their safety.  Pray for their hearts.  Pray God will start to move in their hearts. Pray against fear and confusion! (Sorry we cannot share their names or photos until all the paperwork is done.)
Please pray for the paperwork to go smoothly. So many things could go wrong. But God's will shall overcome!
Pray for us. It was hard knowing I had children in the world that I couldn't get to. Now that they have a name and a face, it is worse!  Pray God will give us strength to overcome.
Pray for Kimberlee and Brody. They are excited about their new little brother and sister. However, I'm sure Brody will get jealous of the attention they must get at first. And I am sure Kimberlee will try to be the mother!
Pray for finances. We spent a good deal of money getting to where we are with Ethiopia. Now some of that must be paid again. Not to mention the expensive part yet to come.
Don't stop praying for our Ethiopian child. That's right! We are going to stay in that program too. If that time line holds up, we will get our children home from Uganda, and a year later travel to Ethiopia.
Did I mention finances? Dear sweet Lord! 5 children!  Funny thing is, before our whole Uganda journey began Jennifer said she would like to have 5 children. I firmly said no!  Just goes to show who's prayers have more pull in the heavens!

Thank you for the prayers and support!

Chris and Jennifer Finch

Where We Are Now

Well I felt like I was updating our blog every other day. So I thought I would give it a rest.  However, I have been over whelmed by the kind words of encouragement and notes asking for an update. Be careful what you asked for!

First, let me update you on the process. On July 2nd the ruling awarding us full custody of the children was read in court by the judge. We did not actually receive the written ruling until July 8th. We are now on the passport process. (I will add some color to this shortly) This process could be completed tomorrow or take as longs as a couple of weeks. Then the children's passports and all of this information will be presented to the American Embassy.  At that point, assuming all goes well, the American Embassy will issue the children a Visa to enter the US.  

Now here is the rest of the story!  After the court ruling we went to the passport office to get the process started. We were putting the cart before the horse. We could get the file checked in, but really nothing else could happen. We did not have the official ruling stating we were their legal guardian, and to get a passport for a minor you must have the consent of the legal guardian. Monday the 8th we showed up at the passport office to check the progress, and was reminded again of the above fact and were told to come when we had the official ruling. This left us nothing to do but go shopping!

Now I pause here in the story to tell you about Ivan. Ivan is a 33 year old Ugandan who grew up here in Kampala. He is not married at this time, but I could see him being some what of a ladies man. My wife would tell you he is a handsome man who looks younger than he actually is.  Oh Shoot, I'll say it! He is a good looking man!  Ivan's job is to meet us downtown and help us through the passport process. He is an awesome dude!  He makes you feel like he is your biggest fan. He puts you at ease and acts like your long lost friend from high school. 

I mention this because our shopping trip consisted of Ivan and myself dragging the kids from booth to booth while Jennifer looked for trinkets for those left in the states. Jennifer, "Chris do you think Angela would want a purse or a necklace?" Chris, "Kids, put that down!" Jennifer, "Chris, do you think Brody would wear an African style shirt?" Chris, "Ivan, she can do this all day! Hope you packed a lunch!"  Ivan was much more of a trooper than I was! 

With shopping complete, ok as much as we could handle, we went to lunch. We had Ugandan pizza. It is the same as American pizza with out the tomato sauce, and with John Wayne toppings. (Tough, very tough!) We left lunch to get a few things checked off the to do list. In the middle of the family photo, I get a call that our official ruling was complete and we need to go get it ASAP!  Ivan and I leave Jennifer and the kids to run 15 blocks up hill in mile high altitude.  At one point Ivan gives me a backhanded compliment about being surprised I could keep up. Not sure if it was a white dude thing or a fat kid thing. If I could have spoken I would have asked. As it was I was just trying to keep my lungs from exploding, and trying to remaining conscience.  

We rushed from where we picked up the court order, picked up Jen and the kids, and caught a taxi back to the passport office. Now about the taxis. That is a very generous name. There are two types of public transportation in Kampala. The Boda Bodas I have talked about before and are really only for those people who do not fear death, and the taxis. Taxis are more like cattle haulers for people. They are 8 passenger vans that have had two extra rows of seats crammed in. People are jammed in as they come. But as the taxi circles the city people do not file out as they filed in. Which means people are constantly climbing over you, or you over them. Keep in mind there is not a lot of ventilation in these moving people compactors. It seems sweat is the lubricant that keeps the people moving in and out smoothly.     

Today we spent another day at the passport office waiting for something to happen. I would use the old cliche about as fun as watching paint dry. At least in that process you are pretty sure something is happening. As I said, we could have them tomorrow or two weeks from tomorrow. 

Here is the very bad news. I have about burned through all my vacation. So I have to fly home Saturday. This leaves Jennifer and our two Ugandan children behind. Please pray we have our passports in hand before I have to leave!

Church on a jungle hill

I was given the huge privilege to go to one of the village churches to preach Sunday.  I am proud to announce the same God that rules over Abba's House is the same God here in Africa. Wow, the majesty of the King of kings, and Lord of lords! If every word from out of my mouth from now till eternity was praise to Him who saved me, I would still would not have said enough of His glory!

This village church was breathtaking! It was perched high on a hill. The proverbial light on a hill for all to see. It looked over the village below. It was a two year old brick building that used the very best of 1920's construction methods. When the bags containing the cement mix were empty, they became part of the structure. There were three rooms to the church. The main room is the size of many small churches. The other rooms still have a dirt floor and look more like herb gardens than cathedral floors.
The church was built to take advantage of the beautiful African weather. There are large windows open to each of three sides of the auditorium. The only thing lacking are the glass panes. When you worship here, you worship with all creation. I guess it is better to let bugs in than to keep the cool breeze out. In addition to the huge windows, there are missing bricks along each wall. At first I thought this might be a way of saving on building materials.  Then it hit me. This was an African ventilation system. Missing bricks allowed the air to flow through all the rooms. Genius!

Have I mentioned the amazing people of Africa? I was told to prepare to teach Sunday school, and to preach for the service. Well there is not much difference between Sunday school and church.  So I walked into the church and they had already started. I walked in and the pastor closed his Bible and motioned me to the front. I told him I didn't want to stop what he was doing.  "I can keep it till next time."  What humility. So I did Sunday school and it was followed by a 30 minute question and answer session. It was so clear there was such a desire and thirst to know the truth about God.  Already being moved by their desire for God, I should have known to buckle up for worship.  There were two African drums keeping time in the corner, four women and one man walked to the front of the room, and then it began. My soul erupted even before my ears picked up the tune. "Oh, how I love Jesus, Oh how I love Jesus!" Standing against the wall listening to this familiar melody sang in an unfamiliar tongue, and look out over the majesty of the African landscape I heard a still small voice in my spirit, "Yes, I am truly God!" At that moment "Hallelujah" rang from the lips of the lead singer as if she too had heard God speak His eminence over this place.  After songs rang out over the countryside, the praying started!  Brother they cut loose!  God was magnified and lifted high on the lips of His people. No charismatic had anything on the prayers of these saints!  It was one of those times I prayed my preaching would not be a let down after that!

The Village

The Village

Friday I went with Rashid to the jungle village where his church and school are located. Wow, every day I am amazed by Africa. I want to describe what I saw. But I am keenly aware I saw what I saw through my western eyes. On reflection all things are not what they seem. A very wise man once said, "You don't know what you don't know!"  What I am about to describe may sound like abject poverty, but unlike us Americans these people don't know that having stuff makes you happy.  Oh wait... Does it?  Maybe my western slant is off kilter. Read these words with an open mind and an open heart.

We drove to where the sidewalk ended.  Ok the whole road disappeared into dust and red clay. Another 45 minutes of shock pounding, brain rattling travel we turned off this "good road."  The road continued to erode into nothing more than a trail. The only constant was the depth of the gullies in our path.

We picked up an older woman at the trail head. I am still not sure if she was waiting for us or if this was a twist of faith. We drove until the trail became too small for our vehicle. From there we walked to this lady's house. There her husband was working in the sparse cornfield surrounding their home. The house was a mud hut consisting of two rooms and a grass roof. To my surprise it was actually cooler in the house. Rashid must have noticed my surprise and pointed to the roof, "African air conditioning."  The construction and grass keeps the heat out while allowing the breeze to blow throw. I learned these were church members. We did a tour of the property, before going inside for a visit. We were joined by a neighbor. Once again I don't know if this was planned or he just wanted to see what the white dude was up to. Children filtered in and out of the conversation. Once ministry and prayer had concluded we began to leave the house. The old woman stopped Rashid and spoke to him at length patting the young girl beside her on the shoulder.  He smiled, said a few woulds and we walked out. Outside he turned to me and said the young girl, 8 or 9, was the lady's granddaughter. The mother had left the father because he was a drunk and abusive. The mother could no longer take care of the child and left her with the grandmother. The grandmother was attempting to pursued Rashid that I should take the girl with me.  What it must be to think that your child or grandchild would be better off with a stranger from a different nation than with you?

The next home we visited was a three room affair; a kitchen, which means it had three small rocks with warm embers around them, the bed room, and the room the cow stayed in at night.  In the states this might seem strange, but in the jungle the only way to ensure you will have a cow in the morning and that it has not been taken away by panthers or a pack of hyenas is to bring it indoors.  Only question is, do cows snore?

At this house there were already mats sitting under shade trees. This is where the visit would commence.  Out of honor and respect they brought the pastor Rashid and me a bench to sit on. I guess it just would not be right to ask the honored guest to sit on the ground. While I'm sure sitting on the ground would have been a great dishonor, but sitting around the same tree where a goat had been tied was completely normal.   Nothing like goat pellets and the smell of goat urine to bring in the presences of the Lord.  Well obviously this was once again the shortsighted American mine set. God didn't seem to mind our surroundings. Before we stood up to go one of the ladies sitting around the mat prayed to accept Christ. Wow, how awesome is God when we allow Him to be God. It reminded me that it was not my western way or my master's degree in theology that ever saved anyone. It is the sweet work of the Holy Spirit.

Here was the amazing thing about our village trip. To look at these people we would say they lived at the lowest levels of poverty. But each house we visited would not allow us to leave empty handed. Luke 10:7 says a labor is worthy of his wage. These people would not allow the pastor to leave without his wage! A bundle of corn, enough bananas to break a supermarket scale,  avocados the size of a child's head, and a chicken were the wages of the day. In America we have to beg church goers for that which rest beside their pocket lent. Here they give from the abundance of their heart.

The Orphanage

The Orphanage

There is not much to do here while you wait on the different steps in the adoption process. Our host suggested there is not much crime here. But for the first time in my life I was wanded with a metal detector and frisked before going into a restaurant. And most buildings have upset looking fellows toting AK-47's. That in mind we are not aimlessly wondering the street. Rashid's wife is in charge of the education at the orphanage. We were asked if we wanted to go to the orphanage and help out. Something to do, and help, we were all over it.

We got out of the car and we ask for the quarter tour. While we looked around the children walked into the room where the rest of the children were about to start class. We went through what is the upper class room and another room that was not complete that will one day be the upper class room. Allowing the first room to be additional housing. We walked back down where the children were. Our son was standing there in a puddle of tears. For the second time in his life he thought he had be abandoned there.  Much to the displeasure of the workers, I scooped him up in my arms and began to tell him daddy would never leave him. After 30 minutes in my arms, he rejoined his class, but only because Jennifer was the teacher. With us in sight he began to become the little boy that has blossomed these last few day. As for our daughter, she never cried. She also never allowed Jennifer or I to be more than 5 paces away from her. Even as playtime started, no ball or game of tag would pull her away from us. When we told her we were leaving and she needed to tell her friends bye her little eyes lit up. She too realized she was no longer an orphan but a loved daughter. She was so excited to say bye, take my hand and walk through the gates of the orphanage.

The orphanage has only been in it's current location for two years. I would like to tell you about it. First it is a new building that was built looking old. It was laid out with thought and planning. It is also in a constant state of construction. It can only be built as they have funds to do so. The outside stairs have no guardrail and no banister on the second floor. The food is all prepared over an open fire. They are in the process of building a kitchen. It will still utilize wood burning stoves, but will be much more efficient. Last month the orphanage got electricity for the first time. Yesterday they poured the concrete for the well. They hope to have running water in a couple of weeks.

 The orphanage also serves as a home for pregnant young women with no where else to go. This may sound like a large place, but it is not. The 25+ children sleep in two rooms lined with metal bunk beds.  They have little more than a thin foam mattress to sleep on. The sheets on the beds were as thin and tattered as the cloths the children wore. The whole building consisted of 6 rooms. In the main family room there was no warm carpet to burry your toes into. A 20 x 20 blue tarp doubled over itself was all that was covering the concrete floor. They didn't have much in the way of amenities, but everything was clean. The teachers did an amazing job with the kids. Rashid is an unbelievable man for what he has done. But the need is so great!  Rashid told me he has 12 more orphans coming. He just doesn't have room until some of the adoptions go through.
In all of my blogs, in all of my Facebook post, and in all my talks on adoption I have never asked anyone to donate a penny.  But after today I am going to ask for your help!
When I get home I a going to start a Bethel House fund to raise money for what Rashid is doing here. I am going to start the fund with a thousand dollars. I am going to ask you all to help me!  Just to give you an idea. For them to have running water it will be $6,000 and another $5,000 to do the kitchen.

Here is the last thing I will say about the orphanage. It is missing one big thing.  Love! As I said my daughter did not let me out of her sight. Most of the time she sat in my lap.  Jealous of the attention, many of the other children made the rounds past where I was sitting with her. There were at least four other children that tried to supplant her from my lap. Two little boys even walked up and called me daddy. How do you answer that call?

Court

I'm going to try to update our blog as much as I think I can be of interest to anyone.  Many things I do not feel I can discuss until we are back in the USA.

First, before we left I was thinking a lot about all that Kimberlee and Brody could teach our new children.  After 3 days, I think our new children will be the teacher. The little boy jumps at the chance to throw trash away without being asked. This morning I was sitting on his bed, and he was just a fussing at me. I thought we were playing a game of tug-a-war with the blanket. Then it hit me, he wanted me off his bed so he could make it up. How strange, a child that wants to make up his bed and clean up.

Tuesday our court date was set for the afternoon. That morning around 10:30 the director walked into our room and said, "the judge has had a death. He is leaving town this afternoon. We must go now. We leave in one minute."  Only problem was we all were still in our pj's and no one had had a bath. 30 seconds after our 1 minute warning the director starts laying on the horn. About the only native language I have learned is a blow of the car horn is African motivation to move!  So we hit the car running and half dressed. Before the door was shut Rashid was jamming gears and slinging dirt. The judge had given us 30 minutes to be in court, it was a 25 minute drive, and the deadline was given 20 minutes ago. Rashid was bound to make it up on the drive. You have heard of a near death experience.  Well I had about 3 of them on the drive in. Another driving tip from Africa: if a car is coming head on in your lane and the horn does motivate the person back into their lane, just flash the lights and everything will be fine. I may be a little off in my translation. The flashing of the lights could also be the signal for I just pooped myself your so close. (That's what I was on the verge of!)

So with 5 years off my life and foot print permanently pressed into the passenger side floorboard, we made it to the city. Then the dash uphill, in a suit, carrying a child, in high altitude.  We got to the court house and I'm sure I looked like a dumpster fire. Sweat pouring, greasy hair, with my wife sporting the crazy 80's hair due to the short prep time and the windows down on run into the city that would make a moonshiner proud.  "Great, this judge is going to love us, mozingos. (Mozingos are what white people are called here.  It is funny to have a child come up and rub your arm to see if the white feels different.)

We walk into the court, which is really the judges office. A very distinguished old man. A heavy set man who wore his age and wisdom in the gray of his hair and small beard. Judge Moses!  Very befitting of the name. He called the birth mother up and spoke to her quite some time in Lugandan. There were laughs and some stern looks. At one point I would bet the bank he asked her how she felt about her children being raised by white people.  Then the moment I almost lost it. He called the children to stand in front of their mother. He gave her instruction. She spoke to the children. That is when it hit me. He had instructed her to tell her children bye. As a parent I could not imagine the turmoil in her heart. I did all I could but I could not prevent the one tear I quickly wiped from my cheek.

New train of thought. I had to put my pad down for a day after that last paragraph. I must move on or I will not finish. The judge is notorious for giving adoptive mothers a really hard time. Jennifer was not excited when she was called before the judge.  He asked her why we were adopting, and why Uganda. After that he smiled and started to thank us for coming to Uganda. PS he asked me nothing. I could have been a hillbilly from the back side of no where. I guess he thought if I had this hot of a wife I must be good!  After court we all went to lunch, including the birth mother.  Awkward would come close to describing the moment.  Here is a good way to end this. Because of the situation, what has taken some people as much as 5 hours we were in and out in an hour. God continues to move the process forward.

Last minute update.... Our court ruling was moved up to July 2nd!  That is three extra days! Go God!!

Here in Africa

This is the second morning I have woke up in Africa.  Since this whole trip is because of these two little children, I must start there. They speak a language I do not not understand, but speak it to me as if I must. With earnest and determination they look into my eyes and explain the secretes of there hearts. Or perhaps they are just talking about the fruit tree outside our window. I could not tell you which. I have learned some universal truths. Children love to play and playing in momma's and daddy's bed is infinitely better than other places. Second, all children love to be spun around past the point of my endurance.  And all children, like adults, have issues sharing.

One thing I have learned breaks my heart. Most children when they have a boo boo run to the arms of momma or daddy to make it better. These children when hurt have had no one to run to. Instead they hide their face and cry. How long will it take before they understand momma and daddy can make it better?

Africa is beautiful in its own way. There is no ocean but there are palm trees. Even the cows seem exotic with their long horns pointing to the sky. The size would rival any Texas long horn, but the directionality makes them seem much more fierce.

Kampala... Now there is an experience! Boda Bodas are every where. Boba Bodas are motorcycles equipped with an extra long seat to accommodate more passengers. Because more passengers on a motorcycle is always a good idea. They are Kampa taxis. The Bodas have one traffic law they follow, there are no traffic laws!  They weave in and out of traffic like ants at a Sunday picnic.  Many suffer the same fait of the ant, l
smushed!  If the Bodas have no rules, then cars have one, honk your horn before you pull in front of some one. Not that the horn does any good but they seem to like ll. Cars pull out in front of on coming cars more often than Starbucks pour a cup of coffee. A turn lane becomes a four wide NASCAR event to see who can make it to the inside rail the fastest. You have heard where there is a will there is a way.  In Kampala it is where there is an inch, a car will fit. I prayed to receive Jesus as my savior four times yesterday, and that was just on the way to breakfast.

Jennifer is getting all the attention. Time to play!