Each year Ginny & I work together on some patchwork Best of List.  I truly love this time of year- as it begs one to look back as well as ahead.

You’ll need to remember the caveat with the following list:  to be on our list does not mean that a thing was introduced in 2011, but rather that it came upon our radar or was particularly loved by us this last year.

We’ll be ringing in the new year 8 hours ahead of you Americans; which also means 2012 will last 8 hours longer for us than you.  Now that your mind is blown, enjoy our list, and feel free to add the things you thought were great this year that we missed- via the comments.  We’ve found some great stuff through others’ comments on these posts in the past.

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life, family and things that matter more than most:

Away with ankle biting::

This was the year our kids became fun.  Okay, that sounds horrible.  But that doesn’t make it any less true.  Parenting can be tough, and parenting two kids that are 15 months apart can really serve to wring out the selfishness that we all drip with, and that is such a good thing.   But it is also a good thing to just absolutely enjoy your family, and this year that became extremely easy.

Anders is turning two and Hazel turned three.  Hazel talks a ton and I take her on dates.  Anders just wants to bang into things or bump them or bite them.  He is all man, and he is such a blast.  They started playing together and even slept this year.

It seems that home with infants can often be associated with a checklist; home with toddlers is easier associated with cars, crowns, and lots of laughs.  We turned a corner in a way, and I grieve while at the same time I enjoyed the heck out of it.

The year of preparation::

So much of this year was, and continues to be, focused on our decision to adopt Lena.  From months of paperwork to adding space for another onto our home- this has been the year of preparation.  This has been a tough phase, to be honest, but one that has laid a foundation for something we are so excited to build on.  Having spent about 10% of this last year in Ukraine, we will all be home together soon; what else is there to say!

Needing Others::

We could not talk about this year and of our preparation for Lena without speaking of the community that has worked to help us bring home our daughter.

• For the Home addition- Bradley, our neighbor & architect.    Clay our friend and builder (yes the friendship is in tact).  Paul the tireless.  And many more gave up their time and talents to help us build a space for a girl they have yet to meet.

• Taking care of our children in our stead-  Family and friends have rallied to care for our two kids with such love and tenderness.  Others gave money to do what we didn’t know how we would, but felt we must.

We will be forever grateful to those who made our family possible.  We could not have done this without others, and that- to us- is both beautiful and humbling.

Failures & disappointments::

I did not get published.  I have worked hard on a book about Eliot and thereafter, and had built a friendship with an agent who was helping me navigate the publishing world.  And I was excited, and I love to write and I love to talk of Eliot and God’s work through him.  But, at least for 2011, it was not to be.

I worked hard and wrote much.  And although I am thankful for the process, I had really hoped that something was going to come through.  This is typically the kind of thing that I don’t blog about, and I only do so now as to not sell this year for something it was not.  I was disappointed.  But I am persistent and I can and will accept if it is not to be.

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Things that matter less.

A list from both Ginny & I, so if you disagree with it- it was probably Ginny’s:

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MUSIC:

• Bon Iver- If you’re looking for a follow up to the 1^st album, it’s not here.  But this is great stuff even if different.

• Bethany Dillon::  acoustic- This album has served as the backdrop of our time in Ukraine and it has brought us hope and faith in greater things continuously.

• Avett Bros::  Live cd’s- I saw them a while back on an episode of Austin City Limits- jumping around and yelling and trading places.  This is the cd I yell along with when I am driving alone in my car.

• She & Him:: Great background music for all occasions.

• Ben Rector:: He won’t follow me on Twitter, but if he keeps making great music like this I’ll get over it.  Pretty much one of the only artists the whole family agrees on.  Hazel asks for Ben before Veggie Tales, and I thank her for it…..Yes, I like Veggie Tales too, in moderation.

• Josh Garrells::  Eclectic sound.  Poetic lyrics.

• Ingrid Michaelson::  Every since we saw her in NYC, we’ve been catching up on her music.

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THINGS BETTER LEFT IN 2011:

It was the year of the break-in as my car was broken into twice (once by bashing out the window) and I had 2 Ipads stolen, although one was recovered by the police (score one for the good guys).

In the process, I had 4 books that I was reading stolen also- which somewhat explains less reading activity this year.

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BOOKS:

Adam (Henri Nouwen)-An account of Henri Nouwen’s work with Adam- a mentally disabled man that Henri came to know through his work L’arche Communities.  Lessons gleaned from one with a different set of priorities than most of his fellow men.  Thankful for this account.

Writing From Your Life (William Zinsser) Best known for On Writing Well, which I was working through before it was stolen, William dispenses writing wisdom but manages to sneak in life lessons along the way such that you find yourself taking notes and it has nothing to with the craft of writing.  I would recommend anything he has written- even without having read it myself.

Best of A.W. Tozer (A.W. Tozer) This man is simultaneously mystic and theologian.  He is purely logically about the supernatural.  I have enjoyed taking pieces from this book and reflecting on them rather than reading through it at once.

Bossy Pants (Tina Fey) I bought this book for Ginny.  Apparently it contains more bombs than Baghdad, but Ginny laughed more within these pages than I have seen her in a while.

1,000 Gifts (Anne Voskamp) Ginny felt that Anne’s words were so often her own- just better said.  I really want to read this book, but can only do so when everyone else stops talking about it (it’s just the way I am).

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MISCELLANEOUS::

• Netflix Ipad App: We cut the cable for the majority of the year and got by with this app.  Come football season, we caved and got cable, but it’s a great app if anyone will come back around after they drove them off.

• Relevant Ipad App::  Relevant is a magazine and its app is the best I have found at being a tailored experience for the Ipad.  Well done.

• IKEA (bathroom, lighting & floors) &   CB2 (lighting)- These are where we got a few touches for the add on and would have gotten even more if money grew on trees or anywhere for that matter.

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Here in Ukraine the New Year holiday entails pieces of our 4th of July, Halloween, Christmas & New Year’s- all rolled into a nice cluster of holiday madness; so we’re off to go watch a movie in our room as we have strict orders from our translator to avoid going out by all means possible.  Remember to add stuff through your comments.

Goodbye 2011.

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My mother is a gifter.  Take whatever you’re thinking up a notch.  There is no such thing as Christmas shopping or birthday gift shopping; for with her there exists no day where the ones she prefers have moved to the background of her mind.  Each day it seems she is looking for something that will be special to another or communicate her love for them.  And many times she fabricates holidays in order to give these gifts.

Happy 1^st day of fall….I got these for you.

And if I were to go all Dr. Phil for a minute on my own mother- which is dangerous in a forum whereby she’ll be the first to find it- as she thinks Hemingway cannot hold a candle to my blog- I think I could explain her propensity this way.

She grew up in the 50’s around Little Rock, Arkansas.  And like all of my family before me, she had little, her family bouncing around farming or tending to the miniature grocery store attached to their home.  Then her parents got a divorce.  This was a different time remember and, as in any time, this occurrence had a profound effect on my mother, then a child.

I say all of this because much of my mother’s gifting habit seems to be through a deadset determination to provide those around her with a security net of stability.  We often know best the value of the very things we can see but not hold.

So, of course, I am a spoiled brat.

Or I like to think I was a spoiled brat.  Or maybe a spoiled saint.  Either way doubtless, I was spoiled.  Growing up, I wore Jordans and even scored a pair of Guess jeans with the green triangle across the hind parts.  ‘Nough said.

Honestly though, my parents were somewhat balanced and said no quite a bit.  The insight into my own stench has only come along as I myself have become a parent and have wrestled with every bit of parenting advice and, of course, looked back and graded my own parents- wondering how they managed to raise the wonder that is me with such a lousy strategy as outright spoiling me.

Oh and- this has come up as of late also because Ginny & I are desperately trying to call off the dogs when it comes to grandparents and gifts (Christmas in Ukraine away from your kids…who are with their grandparents).  If I was somewhat spoiled, I assure you they are conspiring to take it up an exponential notch and make my kids rotten through and through.

This last Sunday, what you in the U.S. know as Christmas, Ginny and I headed to Lena’s orphanage.  Of course there is nothing unusual about that as it is what we have been doing twice a day for quite some time; but this was different.  We came with hands full, bearing gifts for each of the children in Lena’s room.

Paulina is blind and loves to dance when the loud Americans sing songs in a foreign tongue; for her, a doll emblazoned with “little bug” across the chest.

Vanya, the strongest in the room, who loves to roll his tongue back and forth within his mouth and whom the caretakers have told us is quite taken with our Lena- for him, a noisy toy that lights up- not dissimilar from other toys in the room except for the fact that it was purchased as a gift for him.

For Daniel, a weakened, tender soul who babbles when you look in his eyes; for the one unable to get out bed, a stuffed dinosaur.

And on one hand it all seemed somewhat silly- most assuredly to the caretakers watching us unload these gifts from our bag.  These young ones in Lena’s room will most likely not comprehend that we got them a gift.  We did not even entertain the idea that they would spend hours playing with our offerings.

There is but a fine line between what is waste and what is extravagant love.  My mom taught me that.

As I somehow always saw the heart beneath the gift she gave.  And that heart, while celebrating me, always seemed aimed at something greater than myself, the recipient.

John records a similar tale of lavished love dismissed as sqaundered.

When all that we have is poured out in celebration of the image of Christ borne in another- then that gift is never wasted.  Whatever amount we spent on the gifts for  those three beautiful children in the orphanage is the best money I ever spent- not because the toys were enjoyed, appreciated or even used.

Because the holy light that burns in them is worth it.  Such beauty must be acknowledged.  What grace that I was allowed to do so.

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Disclaimer:: I assure you that I tried my best to steer away from this lesson because it almost seems obligatory for each and every Christian to rail against the consumerism of Christmas or the lost meaning of Christmas or heaven forbid you tell me Happy Holidays- apparently I am supposed to go Chuck Norris on you because that is somewhere in one of the gospels.  Christmas is the new gay marriage.  And by now I can safely assume that you have read your fair share of Christmas rants.  But, nonetheless, if I am anything, dear reader, I am honest and this is what I am learning hear in the Land of Borscht.  Though it may be old hat for you, it is still grand to me.

our tree

Ginny & I have scratched and clawed to celebrate Christmas here in Ukraine- despite the fact that there is scant evidence that the annual passage has arrived.  We bought a Christmas tree on the side of the street on our twice-daily walk to the orphanage.  Well, it is more of a limb actually, costing us the equivalent of 65 cents, but, by golly, it’s a tree to our eyes.  Ginny is a celebrator of all things worthy, and I love her for it.  Her determination is particularly endearing in a part of the world where today is not a holiday at all.

Ukrainians celebrate the New Year with much of the things we associate with Christmas and then celebrate Christmas later in January, and, oh yeah, there’s a Saint Nicholas day in December and it all gets a bit confusing with the language barrier and the trio of traditions.

There have been a few tears shed- by someone who will remain nameless- over the fact that we are missing Christmas with the stateside rascals- the first Christmas where our Hazel actually gets it.  Of course, these tears always end with a recantation of the joyful facts that we are spending our first Christmas with Lena and doing so is an absolute answer to so many petitions.  There is so often a cost associated with answered prayers within His will.

But this much is clear.  It’s not Christmas here.  It’s not even on the radar, that is unless you happen across the two ill-fitting Americans attempting to say Merry Christmas in Ukrainian and smiling and bowing like the idiot that swapping cultures makes you.

No gifts, no football and no turkey.  None of the things that I associate with Christmas are really at my disposal.  Thus, you may be surprised to hear that this is the purest Christmas I have ever had.

Because all that I have here that reminds me of Christmas is Jesus.  And that is more than enough.  God become man in the form of a child.

Ginny and I sang Christmas carols last night and it was worship.  That is new to me.  But then again rarely has He been all that I have.

We are currently headed out into the tundra to go get a little gift for each child in Lena’s room (the special needs room of the orphanage).  Just as in a manger so many years ago, He still shows up in the oddest of places.

Happy Holidays.
Calm down.
Merry Christmas from Ukraine.

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Ginny has managed to do a better job of updating the day-to-day on her blog.

We have now been in Kramatorsk, the region where Lena’s orphanage is located for three days.  We get to go and be with Lena in the orphanage for two 90-minute periods within each given day.  These times with her have been a balm for our parent hearts- the ones that spent the week before away from all of our children. Being with her, has grounded us in a focus, where before we felt untethered- waiting to be told what to do, where to go, what to sign.  We’re still doing all of those same things, but it is interspersed with getting to know this person that is getting to know us.

And she is quite a little girl.  There is so much mystery to unravel.  In fact, it is difficult sometimes to put aside Sherlock Holmes and just be her dad- take her in.  She has her little soothing habits and institutional-isms.  It is hard to distinguish what is due to her diagnosis- which is a riddle all its own- and what has been developed during 3.5 years of her current environment.

And it matters.  And it doesn’t matter at all.

Part of me is pushing to work with her, to un-do, to teach.  Starting now- and still much too late.  To begin the hard work of achieving miracles.  And they will come.  Though many will miss them, I will behold miracles because I am here, and I know where the starting line is located and I know where the route was headed.

Another part of me just wants to hold her and tell her that I am sorry for all that she has endured and I that I failed her, but will never do so again.  That she is loved.  She is perfect.  And we are headed to a home where everything changes.

I know this must seem strange and you just might feel compelled to counter-punch the last blow I landed on my failure.  But let it go.  I’m not going to come around no matter how rational you might be.

Adoption steps into the shoes- accepting responsibility retro-active and here forward.  I feel as though I am not becoming her father.  But that I have been her father and the world is just catching up.

Give me grace.  I am still in process with these thoughts, and if you feel a bit lost by now, I assure you, it is me.  There is so much to process over here- even in the things that have no deep, emotional ramifications- much less the ones that do.  I call it decision fatigue.  It takes like 14 decisions and communications just to find and go to the bathroom.

But in all of this, I am reminded of a love that knows no boundary.  That sought me out.  Of one who took on his shoulders all of the hurt, all of the pain.  Who brought me out, and promises to bring me to a home he has prepared for me.

Oh praise the one who paid my debt and raised this life up from the dead.

You may not have known it, but I am a miracle too.  For God has brought a self-centered, prideful, piece of crap over to Ukraine to shower this boundless love I received onto another.

I am the recipient.
I am the rescued.
I am the loved.
I am the adopted.

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