Step 1: googling “from couch to 5k“

Perhaps their 10-week plan should be an 11-week plan which starts with google. (but, that would mean that I would be starting to run next week…)

Mark Matthews’ The Jade Rabbit has been well received by the running community. “Great race weekend novel to lose yourself in!” said Running Fit e-newsletter. “a must-read for anyone familiar with or curious about the psychological benefits associated with distance running,” said The Outdoor Athlete.

Vivid descriptions of her training. The focus, the concentration, the runner’s math sprinting through her head as fast as her legs are moving as she runs. The imagery of her emotions when she is near breaking point physically.

But, there is more to the book than that.

As as infant, Janice was adopted from China. Now married and desiring a child herself, readers witness her continual process of coming to terms with her own story as she pushes herself to the limit physically and comes under fire as a social worker in a center for neglected or abused kids in a rough Detroit neighborhood.

Stereotypical cliches like “the red thread” and references to “my China-mama” can be forgiven as you progress through the book and become genuinely interested in Janice’s personal crises related to her abandonment as a baby and her life with a “heart that will always pump Chinese blood” coupled with how the Western air was chosen for her to breathe. As an adoptive mom of a Chinese girl, that’s what I’m interested in.

One review claims the book is worth it for Chapter 9 alone–chock full of training and pushing through physical pain. This nonrunning, adoptive parent is going to say the book is worth it for Chapter 12 alone–a short 6 pages, the account of Janice and her best friend and crib mate’s journey back to Guangzhou to where they spent the first 10 months of their lives in an orphanage, chock full of pushing through emotional pain.

And, her thoughts, her considerations of her purpose and the questions she asks herself at an age that most people would think these questions should be closed, are woven throughout the book. And, though it is fiction, written by a grown Caucasian man, not a young Chinese adoptee, I believe that he’s thought about these things in a genuine way himself and was able to use his experience as an adoptive father as he wrote this novel–and perhaps work out some of his own questions.

Is it a must read for adoptive parents?

No.

It won’t teach you how to best manage a multicultural household (though the issue is not ignored in the book). It won’t teach you about attachment methods (though the relationship between Janice and her parents is one richly described). It won’t teach you about how to best answer questions from your child or others or how to handle racism and Asian stereotyping or how to nurture relationships for your child with other children brought home via adoption (though all these subjects are indirectly woven in).

But, it will give you a unique view of adoption and adoption related grief, loss, and gain, a unique view inside the life of one fictitious girl who I wanted to cheer for at the finish line.

And, in my opinion, any book that leaves me with some poignant thoughts that I want to talk to my husband or adoptive mom girlfriends about and that helps me think through some potential issues for our daughter, for our family, that may arise–that book is worth my time.

International adoption is costly.

But, families who know God’s calling them to bring their little one home can be pretty creative. Some families have massive yard sales. Some use a talent they have and start up Etsy stores. Some teach a skill they have. Some sell coffee or homemade jam. Some design and sell t-shirts (don’t stop there – click here or here) or calendars. Some hold online drawings for timeshares or auctions.


And, others…write a book.

The Sardos family are no strangers to the cost involved in adopting — in addition to their four biological sons, they adopted 3 little girls from China. And, now, they are bringing home yet another–a little boy named Jude from Shanghai. “We do this because in our hearts we know this is the path we must take.”

When the oldest of their 3 girlies asked them what country her brothers were from, the idea for the book was planted. John and Jane worked together over the course of 6 years to create a book bringing their family’s story to life for the benefit of all sorts of families. They sat together, one coming up with one line, and the other finishing it in a sing-song rhyme to tell their family’s story of bringing a little girl home and then starting the process to bring a little sister for her home. Jane’s sister did the illustrations that bring in a Chinese flair in style, and John colored them on his computer with bold, bright colors.

As an elementary school principal, they have had the privilege of seeing firsthand the blessing their book has had on children. They donated copies to all the schools in their school district. Each of their three girls read it aloud in their classes and gave every child in their class a copy. A church local to them took copies to schools in Africa this summer. And, people have been moved. Their girls are proud of their stories. And, other children who were adopted can read it and be encouraged to be excited about their own stories. And, children who were not adopted and may not know much about it can start to see how adoption isn’t “weird” at all.

I have some friends I’d like you to meet – Kavita, Jasu, Somer, Krishnan, and Asha. I met them here at the beach on vacation; I’ve only known them for a few days. As much as I’d like to speak to them and allow you to do the same, we can’t; they are alive only in a well painted portrait of words. But, they’ve spoken to me.

There aren’t many books in which I find myself drawn in some way to all the characters. Maybe one or two resonate with me, not all. Shilpi Somaya Gowda’s Secret Daughter is one of the few.

A poor rural Indian family unable to provide for more than one child and knowing for varied reasons (as is the case in many places) that that one child needed to be a boy. And, a California couple, both doctors, unable to heal their most emotional case yet–their own infertility. Their families become forever intertwined through adoption.

It is a story of motherhood and of the discovery of what motherhood really means. You follow the journey as an Indian-American girl sees life in a new way as she learns her own story and the love of her past for the first time and concludes that sometimes “the family you create is more important than the one you are born into.”

Part of me wishes I were the reporter and that I could sit down in a crowded restaurant in Bombay with Kavita over a cup of hot chai and hear more. Maybe I’d bring Lydia with me and let her hear it all too, see it in Kavita’s own eyes. I know that her story of commitment and surrender is not Lydia’s story–we don’t know what her story is despite my efforts to learn more. And, I know better than to pretend that they are alike even if Kavita were Chinese instead of Indian. Still, I imagine the meeting and the blessing it would be to us.

Part of me wishes I could travel to California and join Somer at Starbucks over a cup of iced coffee. I’d ask her how she would have parented differently knowing what she knows now. Though our worldviews differ, and I have four little ones while she has one who is grown, we share the common bond of raising a daughter we wanted before she was even born whose skin, eyes, and frame do not resemble ours but who fits perfectly in our arms.

Part of me wishes we could be instantly transported to wherever Asha’s work has her now and talk while we walk together in the early morning. Asha’s self-discovery is not based first on her position before her Maker as we pray Lydia’s will be. Yet, I wish I could ask her her thoughts on language classes and holidays and traditions and searching.

But, I must settle for the page before me, pages about women and families based only on research, women and families who do not exist though represent thousands and thousands around the world, pages I will likely read again perhaps along with Lydia in 12 years or so. All so that as she enters adolescence and asks more questions, and I’m in a new season of parenting an adolescent girl with a history I do not share, I’m there as questions come up. Maybe I’ll be able to answer some, and I’ll simply be with her when I can’t, while pointing her to Truth all along.

I want you to read this book. I just do. I want lots of you to read this book so I can either sit down and chat with you about it or email about it since my husband no longer wants to hear me talk about it (he keeps reminding me that this people are not real).

I can be sure that one of you will get to read Secret Daughter, because one of you will receive their very own copy straight from the publisher.

To enter, leave a comment on this post with why you’d like to win or what interests you about this book.

If you want a second entry, share a link to this giveaway on Facebook and leave me a second comment here telling me you did.

I won’t make you become a follower here for an extra entry to win. But, hey, it would be nice.

Enter before Friday, July 29th at 10pm EST. I’ll choose a winner randomly using random.org after that. And expect an email from me asking you how you liked it after a little while, okay?