This morning Natasha was on mission. She discovered that we have to take several extra steps with Viktor’s passport because of his age and other complications, and it was time to figure out what to do. After she discussed the difficulties with the paperwork and possible time delays, we decided to pray. We bowed our heads and held hands around the kitchen table, and asked God for wisdom and favor. We need a miracle. This could potentially delay us weeks.
After many phone calls, Natasha had a plan so we hired a driver and set out. After driving all over town, we found out we could not get the proper paperwork without Viktor’s official guardian, who is still someone at the orphanage. We wasted time and expense, but at least we have a plan for tomorrow.
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One of our favorite times of the day is later in the evening, after dinner and right before Anna heads to bed, we have time around the table for talking and sharing, Bible study, and prayer. I have been so awed by my dear husband Scott, who has diligently led our family in these nightly devotional times. We are so thankful for Natasha, who translates for us and makes it possible at this stage. This was our 6th night of family devotions together, and Tanya seemed less bored and even asked questions, while Viktor was more engaged in the conversation, keeping the mood light with his wonderful sense of humor. Scott shares from the Word, and we try to make much of Jesus and his love for us all.
I have always been a lover of languages. I love listening to others speak in their native tongue; I love trying to figure out words and their meanings, learning words from different languages, and being able to communicate with people in their native tongue at some basic level. When I hear Russian spoken, I love the deep, gutteral sounds and the way the words roll off their tongues. I love to hear Viktor speak, with his deep voice sounding as melodious as a cello, the tones blending together beautifully. I love when Tanya speaks, and the way her pitch often goes up and down, tinkling like bells.
The language barrier is one of the toughest issues for us, as it is for most internationally adopted families I would assume. Often the children ask Natasha for advice or permission for something, and I am thankful she always directs them to ask us instead. Natasha called herself their “crutch.” I told her she is much more than a crutch, she is someone they look up to, someone who has helped them and been an advocate for them for much longer than we have known them. She is a good friend. And yet, deep down, I know that she is a crutch for us as well. How terrifying it will be when we don’t have a translator, when we will have to figure this thing out on our own. I dread awkward, quiet meals, where 2 different conversations may be happening (one in English, one in Russian), and the 2 not intersecting anywhere.
My good friend and mentor Marcia has told me that when it comes to teenagers, you have to be available when they are ready to communicate and share, and that usually that happens late at night. So last night, about 11:30 PM when we were trying desperately to get Tanya and Viktor to go to bed, they seemed ready to connect with us. The boyish grin (that I have grown to love) spread across Viktor’s face, and soon the games and mischief began. (The saying goes, “If you can’t beat them, join them.”) After some indoor soccer (with our cheap rubber ball) and hide and seek, with many suppressed giggles and squeals so as to not wake Natasha or Anna, we ran to the balcony and looked at the silver moon peeking out from behind the clouds. A few moments later, we had our first family hug. Another holy moment for sure. Many things can be said without words, and love is surely one of them.
After many phone calls, Natasha had a plan so we hired a driver and set out. After driving all over town, we found out we could not get the proper paperwork without Viktor’s official guardian, who is still someone at the orphanage. We wasted time and expense, but at least we have a plan for tomorrow.
.........................................................................................................................................
One of our favorite times of the day is later in the evening, after dinner and right before Anna heads to bed, we have time around the table for talking and sharing, Bible study, and prayer. I have been so awed by my dear husband Scott, who has diligently led our family in these nightly devotional times. We are so thankful for Natasha, who translates for us and makes it possible at this stage. This was our 6th night of family devotions together, and Tanya seemed less bored and even asked questions, while Viktor was more engaged in the conversation, keeping the mood light with his wonderful sense of humor. Scott shares from the Word, and we try to make much of Jesus and his love for us all.
I have always been a lover of languages. I love listening to others speak in their native tongue; I love trying to figure out words and their meanings, learning words from different languages, and being able to communicate with people in their native tongue at some basic level. When I hear Russian spoken, I love the deep, gutteral sounds and the way the words roll off their tongues. I love to hear Viktor speak, with his deep voice sounding as melodious as a cello, the tones blending together beautifully. I love when Tanya speaks, and the way her pitch often goes up and down, tinkling like bells.
The language barrier is one of the toughest issues for us, as it is for most internationally adopted families I would assume. Often the children ask Natasha for advice or permission for something, and I am thankful she always directs them to ask us instead. Natasha called herself their “crutch.” I told her she is much more than a crutch, she is someone they look up to, someone who has helped them and been an advocate for them for much longer than we have known them. She is a good friend. And yet, deep down, I know that she is a crutch for us as well. How terrifying it will be when we don’t have a translator, when we will have to figure this thing out on our own. I dread awkward, quiet meals, where 2 different conversations may be happening (one in English, one in Russian), and the 2 not intersecting anywhere.
My good friend and mentor Marcia has told me that when it comes to teenagers, you have to be available when they are ready to communicate and share, and that usually that happens late at night. So last night, about 11:30 PM when we were trying desperately to get Tanya and Viktor to go to bed, they seemed ready to connect with us. The boyish grin (that I have grown to love) spread across Viktor’s face, and soon the games and mischief began. (The saying goes, “If you can’t beat them, join them.”) After some indoor soccer (with our cheap rubber ball) and hide and seek, with many suppressed giggles and squeals so as to not wake Natasha or Anna, we ran to the balcony and looked at the silver moon peeking out from behind the clouds. A few moments later, we had our first family hug. Another holy moment for sure. Many things can be said without words, and love is surely one of them.