It's a Birthday Kind of Day

As many already know, there were a lot of "signs" along the way that God used to make His intention for us to adopt L crystal clear in our minds.  There are quite a number of them actually, but without question, the most obvious sign was her birthday.  When Reagan first met L at Masterpiece Ministries summer arts camp for teens in July, she was very concerned about this girl's age once she learned that she was 15.  Age 16 is when orphans age out of the system in Ukraine and are on their own.  Of course, I became very concerned about this too, but we knew that many children each year age out of orphanages, and while it added a sense of urgency to complete her adoption quickly, this wasn't the reason we felt called to adopt her.  Reagan knew after her week with L in the kitchen at camp, and I knew after that same week, just having heard about her and the bond they developed, that she was our daughter and we needed to get her home.  I don't know how else to say it other than "we just knew".  If fact, we had very little discussion about it.  Somehow, God spoke to both of hearts and we were on the same page from Day One. But we were stunned to find out our exact marriage date was the day she was born.  Month, day and year. That day, nearly 16 years ago as we were being married in Wheaton, she was born here in Ukraine.  Some have called it cool, some called it uncanny.  Our Ukrainian facilitator called it a "sign from God".  I agree with her.

Somehow (and we haven't figured this out yet), L has always believed that her birthday is a month earlier.  It is the day she has always observed.  When she visited us in the US in August we were talking about our oldest daughter's upcoming birthday.  L said, "in Ukraine, birthday...no birthday...I don't know."  A little more prodding helped us understand that what she meant was that it's no different than any other day for the orphans. So when we saw her yesterday, Reagan asked her "what did you do on your birthday?"  L smiled a sweet, smirky smile, shrugged her shoulders and in her best English said "nothing".  So I decided that I wanted to share whatever celebration the family had for me with Liza.  After all, 43 is no biggie for me.  But 16 for a girl?

When we got to the orphanage for our visit today, L came out and said "Happy Birsday!" and ran back inside.  She emerged a few minutes later with this:

We spent some time conversing.  Mostly Russian, a little English, learning a few new words.  Reagan, L and her friend (also 15) looked through a girlie-makeup-celebrity magazine of some sort.  L oohed and aahed over these famous American celebrities that she knows from Ukraine's obsession with American pop culture.  We delivered a letter to another boy at the orphanage whose adoptive parents are coming next month.  We fired up the laptop and watched Madagascar 3, ate lunch that we brought from the local grocery store and ate birthday cupcakes topped with unlit candles that Liza and I pretended to blow out.  Regardless of the limited resources and the environment, I can't think of a better way to have spent my birthday.