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My Overthinking

Philly Area mom, Life forever changed by adoption

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the big brother {advocating}

8.14.15

We were getting into the van to leave the orphanage for the day when the director gently touched my arm and said something to our translator.

He wants to know if he can show you one more child to find a family for.

He brought me to a tall boy who was waiting for me on the front steps, fiddling with his fingers obviously nervous but also impressively willing to look me right in the eye. He continued to stand before me, nodding his head occasionally as the director spoke about him to me with the translator next to us relaying every word.

He goes to a school nearby and is very smart. He’s very social. He likes computers and running.

I saw an opportunity and jumped in.

Running? Wow. Are you fast?

Bigger smile and a head nod as he answers.

He says he’s good and wins races.

I offered him a high 5, and he accepted. The director went on.

The only thing wrong with him is that he looks weird. His brain is all normal.

I was stunned.

His eyes looked away from me as I blinked more than I should have in nervousness.

I wrote down notes in the green binder I carried with me everywhere.

school. smart. very social. computer. running….only his eyes.

That’s his reality. He’s known as the boy who looks weird. But, by some supernatural gift of grace, he’s still able to smile with his crooked teeth and unusual features and look me right in the eye.

On the last day our team was at the orphanage, the staff allowed us to take all the children who were able outside for free play. We blew bubbles and used sidewalk chalk and bounced balls and raced plasma cars. We were nearly finished when I saw L. C.G. in his school uniform running to join us. He looked right at me as he had done before with a big smile but then walked right past me. I saw his head turning, clearly looking for someone. I thought he might be looking for an ayi, maybe looking for the other boys his age whose disabilities keep them from going out to school as he gets to do. Suddenly, he stopped turning as he found what he was looking for.

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L. C.G. scooped up a child, a little one who clearly knew him as evidenced by how tightly he wrapped his poofy little arms around his neck. There in the courtyard of a place known for broken relationships, I witnessed brokenness being redeemed.

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Before all else, the boy who “looks weird” was searching for this little boy. He hugged him and spoke to him as I stood marveling at how he knew he could offer this child something no one else in that place could.

After a few minutes, he put him down and brought him to an ayi and then ran off to join his buddies racing around the yard on bikes way too small for their growing bodies but not unlike my own sons would do at home.

I added more notes to my binder that night.

Gentle. Compassionate. Would make a great big brother. Look for his file. This boy needs a family.

_____________________________________

His file has been found. He’s on the shared list right now which means any agency can show families his file. And, any family—no matter where they are in their adoption process—can hold and lock his file to move forward to make him their son. Feel free to email me at kraudenbush@sparrow-fund.org if you have questions about him or the adoption process or about an agency to help you. And, click HERE to read the letter he wrote only days ago for me to share with all of you.

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Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: Advocating, China, Orphans, The Sparrow Fund

Goodbye, Ben & Abbey {a letter to two of our best friends as they move}

8.14.15

Ben AbbeyIt probably feels like the last month has just been a string of ongoing goodbyes. We knew our turn was coming; we just tried to think about it and talk about it like it was still a far way off. But, now I’m sitting here trying to put some words together to give to you tonight. It’s our turn to say goodbye.

I’m seeing a pattern in my life lately. God supplies just I need before I even know I need it. I remember when we first met. We sat and talked about adoption and ministry while Lydia toddled around us. I thought God was using me to help give you some ideas and encourage you to step out and do whatever it was God was calling you to do.

It’s been years since that day. Since then, you’ve become family. You have filled gaps we felt and those we didn’t even know were there. You have taken things off our plates so that God could put other things on them. You have cared about our kids as people, uniquely made who God will use right now and as they grow. And, you have cared for us, giving us ideas and encouraging us to step out and do what it was God called us to do.

It’s your turn now to step out in faith. It’s your turn to go into the unknown and walk a path you’ve never been down before. And, as you do, we’re prepared to put aside the sad we feel at the gaps that you’re leaving here and be your biggest cheerleaders. There is no doubt in our minds that God has called you to this new adventure at this exact time. But, if you ever doubt it, we’re prepared to remind you. If you’re finished unpacking boxes and it doesn’t feel like home, call us and we can tell you all the funny things Lydia said that day and what Drew made last out of Legos. We’ll tell you what we’re reading and what we’re learning and tell you what is currently stressing us out. You’ll feel right at home again.

I got these pictures in my email inbox this week. They came to me and were addressed to me, but I think they were meant for you. That photography workshop we did with those children at the orphanage last fall? You ran with that, and the two of you shined so bright there. Your hearts were obviously so full and overflowing. I knew I had been a part of something incredible when I tried to hold my phone still through tears to capture on video when you gave each child the certificates and 4×6 copies of the beauty they created. You served hard there and then came home, holding those images like batons and doing your best to pass them on and keep the significance of that week going now on the side of the world where we live. And, you did that well. But, this week, when these images arrived with some simple, broken English words, I knew that God has used your efforts in such bigger ways.

photo  (2)

photo  (1)

photo  (3)

photo  (4)

Seeing how the children had responded to your workshop, the staff at the orphanage created a photography classroom where they have had local, professional photographers come to work with the kids. You started something. God used your gifts and your hearts and He brought you to that place at just the right time and God used you to start something. We thought the workshop was incredible—but this is incredibler.

I didn’t want to just email the pictures to you. We decided to print them for you so that you could put them on your new frig or tape them up to your new wall and be reminded that no matter where you are, God is using you. He’s working in and through you in the place where He has you right then and there, and He’s using you in places where you aren’t any longer. That’s the sovereign power of our God.

Life will go on here. Church will keep meeting and growing. The girls will keep sipping coffees in the wee early morning hours every Wednesday. The kids will keep growing. Mark and I will keep looking for how He wants us to be serving. It might be hard for you to know that things are continuing without you. I want to tell you right now that the gap you are leaving is a Leaman-shaped gap, and we’re fully anticipating you coming back and wiggling right back into that spot. But, I also want to tell you that the impact you have on our lives and all the lives of those people God has put in front of you is not ceasing as you leave this place. He is going to continue to multiply how you have faithfully served us and others and ultimately Him, just like He multiplied how you served those children in China. And, when He gives us glimpses of it, we’ll be sure to tell you. That’s what cheerleaders do. And, maybe He’ll somehow use those moments to do what I wanted to do in the beginning, to encourage you to press on and continue to do whatever it is God is calling you to do.

May He bless you abundantly and fill every gap in your lives, even the ones you don’t know you have, as you start on this new adventure, trusting Him to go with you with every step.

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Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: Letters

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