Monthly Archives: March 2009

Finance or refinance your home and have money donated to our adoption!!!


Our friend, Sean Buchanan, is a Certified Mortgage Planner. He has offered to give us 25% (towards our adoption) of the commission he makes off of anyone who comes to him for their mortgage needs.
Sean’s a good friend and an elder at our church. You can contact Sean at: sean(at)buchananmortgage(dot)com,, 719-260-8899, 719-460-5558.
Remember to mention our names!!!


Progress and Paperwork


It seems like we’re buried under a mound of paperwork, but lucky for me Julie is an organized office beast. We’re feeling encouraged and here are a few things to update you on the process.

– We have received some checks from friends, very humbling and exciting
– We have had many come to us and share about wanting to be our prayer family during this time
– We had an initial home study meeting and will begin interviews this Friday
– I worked with the Kindergarten kids this morning at church and was reminded to enjoy this next year
– We are filling out background checks and applications galore
– Julie and I went snowboarding Friday
– Art is up on the blog and we’ll probably price it this week (Please pass the word along about our Africa art to anyone who might be interested)

Encouraged, Alan

To Care is to Love


“Love anything and your heart will be wrung, and possibly broken” C.S. Lewis

I hate these words. They’re true. I am discovering that to love is to care. I cannot hope to love God and his precious people yet disengage from the undesirable parts of the natural processes. I want to be part of God’s redeeming processes without sharing in his sufferings? Yep, not possible.

I have a habit of wanting to love people at an emotional distance, even if I am physically present. I don’t want to pray big prayers for them, to cry with them, to massage the knots out, or to hope for them even though I might go to coffee with them or write them a note. The same is true with our kids.

I have heard others experiences with waiting for adoption. They are heartbroken by the struggle and the pain. The waiting sucks. Knowing this, I decided on the perfect low-maintenance reaction. “I’m not going to expect much during this process. I’ll expect the unexpected, not be disappointed in the worst, and then I’ll rejoice when it’s time.” I thought. Until I realized that I’d be missing out on the essence of love.

If I love them I will cry for them and feel pain for them and long to change their diapers (maybe Julie could lean more toward that one). To feel a burden for someone is to love them. I guess life would be much easier if we never had to engage, never had to love, never had to go out of our emotional schedules to love others. In contrast to tendency, suddenly I find myself emotionally present, yet physically distant in the lives of my future kids.

There is power in admitting our fears, so here it goes. I was afraid to love them before it was my time, afraid to feel their pain or look at their scars before it was convenient, afraid to drive a road that was only labeled “somewhere.” Not anymore!


Our Kids are Alive!


It’s hard to believe that we have at least one kid already on this earth. Where are they sleeping? What kind of food are they eating? What kind of care are they receiving? They don’t know they have a father and mother…yet. I can’t get over that idea!


You are Worthy; a poem for secretly loved children

“We labor over you, but not as much as God already has.

We care for you, but not as much as God does.

We want to know you, but not as much as God ever will.

We pray for those around you, that your small hands are already a blessing to them.

We pray for a bond greater than the double helix strand, and connection greater than physical touch.

We pray for common identity bigger than a name.

We want to lead you, as God has led us.

You are worthy of parents, but more importantly you are worthy to be called children.

What we have learned we will teach, and what you teach we will be forced to learn.

Very soon, very soon.”



Molding a Cause into a Call


It seems everyone is fighting for a cause today…or at least promoting one. Stars mention their causes on talk shows, high school students are fighting for children they’ve never met in Africa, and my Facebook page is full of causes that people were so excited about that they took 20 seconds to forward it my way. Julie and I don’t want to be just one more cause.


I’ve been wrestling with the difference between a call and a cause. I support hundreds of causes with my thoughts and words, but can only support two or three calls. We have limited energy and passion, not to mention time.


You have to live yourself into a call until it sounds like an annoying and beautiful shout. It smells huge, risky, tiring, and tempting. Causes are important, but they don’t become so personal that they nestle into who you are. Calls fire me up, creating emotion beyond what I thought I was capable of while causes remain just distant enough that I am okay with that injustice existing in the world. A call beckons me late into the night, like that friend who calls at 2AM because they have no boundaries. A call torments and teases while a cause will leave me alone. When a cause makes me tired I’m done. When a call makes me tired it triggers a satisfaction that reminds me that I am just getting started. Calls are rooted in a deep understanding of God’s character of love, redemption, justice. Causes are usually my weak response to the condition of the world.  


Should all of our causes turn into calls? Absolutely not! We’d go insane. Loose hope. Pout. Moan. The hugeness of the world and smallness of your voice would eventually put you into snores of futility and bitterness.


Adoption has always been a call to Julie, and a cause to me. Just lately I crossed the threshold, or the threshold crossed me. I am defenseless against my thoughts, my excitement, my passion for the subject. Once there were only thoughts, and now there are emotions. I no longer want to adopt, but to be an adopter. What used to be a cause is now helplessly a call. What used to feel like something I did is now part of someone I am. Thanks Jules- I needed this!

         Alan –