Monday, September 24, 2018

Adoption and the Gospel

It may be that some are wondering, especially after my last post, why are we still considering adoption?  Why are we enduring more potential heartache, stress, and financial burdens?  I hope in this post to give a solid answer to these questions.
However, this post will not make as much sense to you if you are not a Christian.  Even if that is the case, I would still ask and encourage you to read on and if you have any questions about what I say here, please get in contact with me or speak to another Christian you trust.  There is nothing more important!  Now, if you are a Christian, I hope you will take what I have to say to heart and consider how it can affect your life and witness for Christ.
There are many reasons for our decision to adopt, but I wanted to use this post to discuss the most important and relevant one to us as Christians.  We chose to adopt, in effect, because it is a literal picture of our faith, of what we believe, of the gospel itself.  You see, for a Christian, the gospel, or good news, is the central point of our faith. Everything hangs on this.  Adoption is a way for us to outwardly and vividly demonstrate this central point.  Allow me to outline why this is the case.
For anyone reading this who is not a Christian, I feel the only fair and obvious place for me to start is to define the gospel.  If you are a Christian, well, you can never be reminded of this beautiful truth enough.
There is one eternal God who created the world.  He is perfectly good.  He is also holy, which means He cannot tolerate wrong.  When He created the world, everything was perfect, including the first people.  Read Genesis chapters 1-3 and you will see how that fell apart by what Christians call “sin,” or doing what God had told us not to do.  Once the first people sinned, their nature was forever altered and so was the nature of every person to follow. Like a mutation in our DNA, the brokenness of sin was passed on to all their descendants, to all mankind. Its “in our genes,” so to speak.  Now, because of sin, all people are capable of every kind of evil.  Sin also had other consequences such as sickness, decay, and death.
I now possess that same marred nature.  It is a nature (attitude, perception, state of being) that goes against God, that is an enemy of Him, that hates Him.  My nature is this way because God is good and I, with my wrong nature, am not.  I cannot help but sin, or rebel against God and His law (and as the creator of all things, He has every right to have laws and say how His creation should run and work and be).  I am literally a slave to my sin, to my wrong nature.  I cannot fight against it, no matter how hard I try to “be good.”  I break the law of God on a daily, even hourly, basis.  Now, as I justly deserve punishment for breaking a law of my city or state, that truth is magnified thousands of times in regard to breaking the law of the Creator of the universe.  His determined punishment is separation from Him forever in a place called hell.
If you are not a Christian and you are still reading, thank you.  You may be wondering how this can be called good news. Well, if it stopped there, it most definitely would not be.  But you cannot realize something is good until you have first dealt with the bad.  God has made a way to deal with my wrong nature and with the guilt of all the wrong I have done while acting on that nature. It is in an incredible way that I would never have imagined on my own.  You see, He literally has given me a new nature!
He did this by sending His Son Jesus, who was fully God and yet also became fully man. He stood in my place and took upon Himself my sin and the sin of anyone who believes in Him.  Jesus was perfect in inward thought and outward behavior; His nature was aligned perfectly with God's.  God sent Jesus to take on himself the punishment for sin that is rightfully mine and yours.  When Jesus was killed 2000 years ago by crucifixion, it was not random or by chance.  This was God's purpose, (2 Corinthians 5:21).
Again, if my explanation ended here, this would still not be good news.  Jesus would be dead and our situation would not be any better.  Our nature would not change and death would still await all.  But Jesus came back to life after three days (as Christians celebrate every Easter).  Jesus overcame sin and its consequence, death, and those who believe in Him and what He did, can inherit Jesus's nature.  We (those who believe) also inherit His resurrection life; He will return, making all things right in this world, including ending sin and death.
So, I have been given a new heart, a new inner nature.  I am now, thanks only to Jesus, in a state of being that can love God and desire to follow Him.  I wasn't given this gift based on my own merits or worthiness or efforts.  God, seeing me while I was still a sinner, chose to love me (while I was not loving or seeking Him), but He chose to bring me into His kingdom and family. He chose to adopt me.  Adoption is an exact analogy used by the authors of the Bible to explain our new state as God's children through the gospel. (Ephesians 1:5-6 and Romans 8:15)
This point brings up an important question: are we all God’s children?  Many people assume that we are, since He created us.  But does that make us His children? When the Wright Brothers created the first airplane, we might figuratively, in a limited sense, call them the “fathers” of the airplane, but would we say that they gave birth to a son? Of course not! Making something is not the same thing as having a child. God made us, and that definitely makes us His creation, but what gives us the right to say that we are a child of a holy and perfect God? That is a pretty bold thing to just assume.
Does the Bible tell us that everyone is automatically God’s child?  The truth is, it does not. Here we need to be a little humble and realize that we do not have any special right to a relationship with God, or to any of the blessings that He can and does give us. We are not born God’s children automatically. John 1:11-13 tells us:
 
“He came to that which was His own, but His own did not receive Him.  Yet to all who did receive Him, to those who believed in His name, He gave the right to become children of God- children not born of natural descent, nor of human decision nor of a husband’s will, but born of God.”

Pay attention to what the verse says. He (that is Jesus), came to His own, which means that He came to us, to humanity, to the ones He had created.  But we didn’t know Him. Most people rejected Him. They refused to accept the Son of God the way He came. They wanted something different. But to those who did recognize Him, and who believed in Him and what He had done, He gave them the right to become God’s children.  If a child of God is something we become, then it seems clear that it is not something we already are. Even if we were good and pure, God does not owe us this right. We can be good, obedient, and loyal creations without ever becoming sons. But we are not even that! We are broken, sinful, and rebellious! Yet God has chosen, in His marvelous love, to make those who will repent and believe in Jesus Christ into something more than we could have dreamed! Without Christ, we can never be God’s child. Our hearts are so turned away from God and our very will is so set against Him, that we cannot even be good creations! But if we have come to truly realize and admit our need for a savior and if we are willing to surrender ourselves and our lives to Christ, then through what Christ has done for us, we can become a child of God!
When Luke and I decide to adopt, we don't go looking for a child that is “lovable.” We don't seek to try and find the most beautiful child or the most talented or the most well behaved.  We choose to love a child, whatever their background and personality; it is an act of the will, a choice, not driven or led by emotion or lack thereof, and not rooted in something more especially deserving in this child than in so many others whom we have not adopted.  This is such a picture of what God has done for us in Christ.  We are the orphan, who have no idea that there is something far better than what we already have or that there is another entirely different way to live.  For that matter, we don't even realize what we are lacking by not being in God's family.  We would be content to go on living in our sin, with all its consequences.  We are not just indifferent toward God, we are enemies.  God chose to love me, even when I was in this state of warfare with Him.
Let's look at this from another angle.  When a child is adopted, the child can’t go looking for the family on his own. He isn’t able to buy the family’s acceptance. He has no great gift or skill to offer them.  The family desiring to adopt comes and finds him wherever he is.  That family seeks him out and offers him stability, belonging, support and love; he becomes a true part of that family. On his own he was an orphan, but through the decision of a family that was not his own, he has now become a son. His status has been raised significantly. He did not earn it. He could not demand it. The family did not have to do it! They could have adopted someone else, or no one at all! Yet, they choose to love a child that is not their own, and to invite him or her into their family, and to allow him to become their own child. In this way, the orphan who had no one and belonged nowhere now has a family, a home, someone to support him, and a place that he belongs.
This is what happens to us if we repent of our sin and believe in Jesus Christ. We are no longer a slave to our sinful self, but we become a legitimate child of God through Christ. Though we were criminals against God’s law with cold and disobedient hearts from birth that refused to love and obey God, and though we lived and acted every day as slaves to sin and disobedience and were owned by our selfish desires and evil actions, God chose to love us anyway, and to adopt as His own sons and daughters those who believe in Jesus Christ and accept that He is their master. Jesus takes away our guilt under God’s law, and God gives us the heart of an obedient Son, the very Spirit of Jesus Christ within us! Having bought us from our master, Sin, He does more than simply make us His own slaves. Instead, He chooses to adopt us as His children! We no longer have to live in fear, we are no longer slaves of a cruel master, but children of a loving God!  This is what the Bible is explaining in Galatians 4:4-7:

“But when the completion of the time came, God sent His Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem those under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons. And because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of His Son into our hearts, crying, ‘Abba, Father!’ So you are no longer a slave, but a son; and if a son, then an heir through God.”

Luke and I are trying, although very imperfectly, to be a model of the love of God in the lives of our children.  We want them to see the gospel lived out in our lives, in every way we can.  Adoption is a way for us to show them, and the people around us, a small picture of what the gospel looks like.  Just as I am so happy that Lexy and Jon have been adopted into our family, I desire even more for them to know the one who created them.  Our kids know that they have been adopted by us (as they grow older, they will come to understand more what this means), and I am hoping that, as they come to understand their earthly adoption, they will one day come to understand what heavenly, spiritual adoption means.  I pray this for everyone who reads this!

Saturday, September 15, 2018

An Unexpected Turn: Grief and the Adoption Process



It is amazing how quickly and unexpectedly one's life can change so drastically.  This is a post I frankly never imagined I'd be writing to all of you.  We were so certain (well as certain as one can be with an international adoption) of our family growing from these two little girls and I have been so happy to share that excitement with all of you.  However, we were told on Wednesday morning that we would not be able to adopt our twin girls after all.  Apparently, the governing authorities in their country decided another family was better suited.  Now, from everything I had thought I understood about this country's process, I didn't think this would happen.  I am so sad to learn I was mistaken.  For what consolation there is, our caseworker seemed as shocked and surprised as we were.
I am grieving the loss of my girls, yet I am happy to know that they will have a home.  I pray that it will be a loving family who will teach them the gospel, but it still doesn't lessen the sadness.  Their home was supposed to be with us; they were supposed to be Lexy's younger sisters and those three girls were going to drive me crazy by sharing a room.
I think what makes this even more difficult is twofold.  First, this isn't the only time Luke and I have had to wade through these emotions.  A while back, we had tried to adopt a little girl from India (Chloe, I will always remember her name and now apparently Zoe and Madeline's as well), and we met with this same result.  I knew Chloe would always be the child that we lost, but I just never imagined it would turn into the children we lost.
The second reason as to why this is just so hard is that when we started down the India path, we were very well informed of the risks.  Our caseworker was very open that we could be well into the process and another family could be given her file.  We chose to take the risk and it hurt when it happened.  This time around, we really thought we knew the country’s program.  We were sure we understood how their system worked and we also had our previous two adoptions, from the same country, as precedent.  We really thought that we had been “pre-matched” with the twins and that no other families would then be given her file unless we withdrew.  We didn't think we were taking a very big risk. That is part of what makes this so much harder; it utterly blindsided us.
This has caused me to be even more exceedingly thankful to God for his providence in our adoptions of Lexy and Jon.  I am so grateful that both of those went through and that we have both our kids; it could have so easily not been the case.  When we were applying to adopt Lexy, it was taking a long time for our FBI background check to come through.  We were contacted by our caseworker who informed us that the country officials were growing impatient and that if we didn't have it done soon, our application for Lexy could be withdrawn.  Now, there was literally nothing we could do to speed up the FBI's process; we were threatened with the loss of our daughter. I am now, after this event, so beyond thankful to God that He didn't allow that threat to become a reality when it so quickly and easily could have been.
I would expect anyone who has ever had to go through a miscarriage, stillbirth, lost a foster child, or dealt with a failed adoption, can understand and relate to what Luke and I are going through.  I am not merely writing for myself as a sort of therapy (though I am doing that), or as a way to simply garner sympathy, but I am writing for all who have grieved or are grieving the loss of children in these ways.  It is a real, painful and long process and, like all grief, not one that ever fully goes away.  Even well after we had started the process for Zoe and Madeline and I was full on in the excitement of it, some random thing would remind me of Chloe.  This will now be the case with two more little girls.
I'd like to say something to friends, co-workers, and family of those who are going through similar grief to our situation.  Please don't say things such as “Well, at least you never knew the child” or “well, it's got to be a bit easier, since you never met them.” or “Well, at least they weren't around you for very long.”  Now, I hold no malice toward anyone for saying such things; I know you all mean well and are trying to comfort and reassure.  But those type of statements just aren't true and I'm quite sure anyone going through a similar situation to ours would wholeheartedly agree with me.  In a very real way, we did know them.  We were a part of the child's life. We saw pictures or videos or interacted with them to an extent.  Even if there was no real-life, in-person interaction (as in our case, for example) Luke and I were still fully committed to Zoe and Madeline, and before them, to Chloe. We loved them unconditionally. They were already our daughters and Lexy and Jon's siblings and now that has been taken away from all of us.  For women who have lost a child due to miscarriage or stillbirth it is even worse. They could not possibly have known the child more!  They literally gave it life and saw and felt it growing inside them; there is nothing more personal and poignant when taken away.
So what is next for us?  We are still going to adopt.  There are still so many children in desperate circumstances who need loving homes.  We cannot and will not ignore the plight of the orphan.  This does not mean, however, that this is an easy decision for u, to move forward with again.  It means taking another risk, putting ourselves out there in a vulnerable, emotional state, perhaps to be hurt again.  But as I have said in previous posts, adoption requires sacrifice on the part of the adoptive parents, but these children are worth our discomfort.  We have already spent time and substantial funds toward this country's program and our dossier is nearly finished. We can still use all of that.  We will still adopt from the same country; our family will still be growing.  We just now do not know by how many, or what gender or age.
Grief is such an odd experience in general and this type of situation, I feel, only makes it more strange.  It is an odd place to be, feeling hope and excitement as to who the new child will be, yet such deep sadness and regret over those whom we have lost all at once.  I find myself feeling guilty over my hopefulness regarding the next child, as if that is somehow doing Zoe and Madeline wrong.  I know that sentiment is not true, but it is still there.  Again, we have been through this before, but I thought we were done with this roller coaster.  When I first got the call, it felt like a sick joke, as we had so recently experienced this with Chloe.  It's not amusing though, not in the least.
I have found myself thinking about two things a lot over these last few days.  The first is the sovereignty of God.  There is nothing that is outside his control and even this sad situation was not an accident.  It didn't slip by God or get past Him or leave Him in a situation where He wanted to intervene, but He just wasn't able to.  There is a purpose in all this, even if I cannot see it now or will never see it this side of eternity.  There is such comfort in this.  One of the biblical passages that continues to come to mind is Romans 8:28-39:

"28 And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. 29 For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers and sisters. 30 And those he predestined, he also called; those he called, he also justified; those he justified, he also glorified.
31 What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? 32 He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? 33 Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. 34 Who then is the one who condemns? No one. Christ Jesus who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. 35 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? 36 As it is written:
'For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.'
37 No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. 38 For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, 39 neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

This experience of grief is not just random or accidental.  God is using it for the good of conforming me to the image of His son, Jesus Christ.  I can think of no higher purpose for any difficulty.  God is not only using this grief to bring me closer to Him, but, if I trust what His word says, He is using it to make me more like Christ.  That is an incredible and comforting thought.  This is what I hold on to as we figure out what next is for us exactly.
I have also been thinking a lot about a song I heard often growing up, as my mother played it frequently.  As a child, I didn't really understand it.  I knew it had deep meaning but I could not tell you what that was precisely.  As I have grown older, gotten married, and had children, I have come to understand it more.  This experience of grief over now three lost children has, I believe, finally helped me fully understand the song.  Anyone who knows me and my family well can probably guess the artist; it is a Rich Mullins song.  I've included it in this post in case perhaps it will be a comfort to someone else, as it is for me.  It is a reminder of whom I cling to and why.


I hope that my sharing of this post, with its grief and honest emotions, will not detour anyone who may have been considering adopting or fostering.  There are so many hurting kids who need families.  As hard as it is, we need to put them above our wanting to be comfortable, wanting to be happy and just not hurt.  That is what we are striving to do, and this can only fully be done by God's grace and strength.  If you are considering opening yourself up to these kids (and to all the heartache that can come with it), I encourage you to not go into it blindly or unprepared.  You can be aware of the difficulties ahead and yet still choose to make the sacrifice and risk discomfort for the sake of someone else.  I'd encourage you to take that route, hard as it is.

Sunday, September 9, 2018

One Year Home: Jon's Story


At the airport the day we brought Jon homse

Today is a special day for our family.  This day is Jon's homecoming anniversary; he has been with us for one whole year.  At this time last year, he had just gotten home and we were all tired, nervous, and were wondering what the days ahead would bring.  It is hard to believe. In some ways, it has flown by, while in others it doesn't feel like it could have been this long already.  Let me be a proud mom and tell you about him for a moment.

Jonathan (Jon) is 9 and has a gift for music.  He loves his piano lessons and talks glowingly of Miss Laura, his teacher.  He has an ear for harmonies and possesses literal perfect pitch.  We can play any note on his piano and he can quickly and confidently tell you what note it is and if it is flat or sharp.  This talent extends beyond instruments; he can tell you what note a car horn or doorbell is.  He particularly loves acapella music and at times will literally appear entranced by it, sitting perfectly still and just listening intently. 

When Jon laughs, it is a full, loud belly laugh.  He is timid and prefers what is routine and familiar but is gradually learning to embrace and enjoy new activities.  He loves to socialize with people and tries hard to engage in conversations and, in this way, shows much bravery, as he has only been in this country for such a short time.  He loves to eat and particularly enjoys burgers, fries, and chicken bacon pizza from Dominoes.  He has a fascination with babies (real ones, not dolls) and loves to hover around new mothers, often asking random questions about the baby and hoping for a chance to see them.

He is doing well in school; he can read sentences in print, is grasping basic math concepts, is understanding the difference between nouns and verbs and is showing quite a knack for learning braille.  When he reads a sentence, there is excitement in his voice as he tracks with the thought or concept that he has just read. Physically, he's still a little wobbly and uncertain of his legs, but he is overcoming in so many ways!

Jon is a member of the Roma people group, an Asian people who came to Europe from India in the 14th century.  The Roma are often mistrusted and disliked by much of the world, especially throughout Europe, and were even targeted as undesirables during the Holocaust.  Both Lexy and Jon love each other and love being siblings. There are times when I watch them playing together and would never guess that they have only known each other for such a short time.  This is an awesome thing, made more so by the fact that Jon is Roma and Lexy is of native European ethnicity.  These two groups have not had a good history, yet through adoption, they have become family without malice.  It is a beautiful picture of love and family, where ethnic tensions have no place.  In fact, it is a wonderful example of what the gospel of Christ should look like in all our lives.  


Now that you know a bit about my son, let me step back and tell you what he was like and what his life consisted of before he came home to join our family.  We know that Jon moved around to multiple orphanages, some of which were not well spoken of, although no specifics were ever given to us.  He spent his whole life, before coming to America, in various institutions.  There is speculation that he was visited by his mother for a time, but we have no proof of this.  We are unclear if he was ever given any formal education.  He could not stand or walk unsupported, even though (after diagnosis by doctors here) his legs and hips were capable of these activities.  He was discouraged from using his left hand and arm, as the left side of his body was perceived, rightly or wrongly, to be weaker.  His cerebral palsy was assumed to be more severe and, to an underpaid and overworked orphanage staff, it was easier to have him sit on a couch by a radio while they attended to the harder, more mobile children.  If our times visiting him during meals are any indication, all he generally ate was soup and small pieces of bread and an occasional piece of candy.  His skin was blotchy and rough in many places.  He seemed never to have brushed his teeth or taken a full-on bath before coming to America, at least based on his first reactions to both activities.  He now loves bath time, by the way.  He weighed 48 pounds when he came home at eight years old.  No one took an interest in his posture; he was often, when we visited him, hunched over with his chin literally on his chest and his whole body had a general left lean to it.
Jon during our first visit

Why am I telling you this? It is not because I am wanting to show what a great family we are and how far we have taken this poor boy.  On the contrary, he teaches me so much every day. Nor do I wish to disparage the orphanage or the staff that cared for him before he came to be with us. We are thankful for the care they were able to give him. Instead, I am telling all of this in hopes of showing the impact a stable, loving, structured family and home life can have on a child.  It is not easy by any means and some days are better than others.  Children need family and structure, and I hope this comparison of my son's former and latter life proves that.  We are far from a perfect example, and yet even in our home, a child like Jon has been able to thrive and grow in astonishing ways!

Consider if you, as a foster parent or through adoption, could provide this change of life for a child.  It will be at times a painful sacrifice on your part, but these children are worth a little discomfort.  I can't help but wonder where Jon will be in another year from now or, for that matter, five.  I will admit, sometimes I find myself wondering how far we would be if we had been able to adopt him earlier.  But going down that road never accomplishes anything.  I am thankful that he is with us now and for all the progress he has and is making.  I look forward to my post about his two years home. :)

Monday, September 3, 2018

When Real Life Makes it to Hard to Pretend


Photo Credit: Unsplash.com user Tanaphong Toochinda. (Not the actual child from the story below)

When you think of children, what is the main activity you think of all of them, regardless of where they live, engaging in?  I would venture a guess, if you gave it a few moments thought, it would be imagining or pretending.  This is what I assumed as well.  However, when I was working at a homeless shelter a few years ago, I had an experience I will never forget.  I was working with a certain family, trying to help them get their life back together.  It was a mom with three young children.  Sadly, the mother constantly yelled at her kids and spoke to them in a demeaning manner.  The little girl, who was no older than my daughter and whose name I still remember, was holding a toy camera in the common room.  I walked by and asked in an excited, playful tone if she would take my picture.  In a half stoic, half patronizing tone, she answered me “It's not a real camera.”  I was shocked and deeply saddened.  I had taken it for granted that children everywhere, regardless of circumstances, knew how and just plain liked to pretend.  It makes perfect sense, though, that a difficult, painful, or physically or emotionally exhausting life would dim that aspect of childhood or just eliminate it all together.  I will never forget that little girl and I pray that her life changed for the better.  She would be about 13 now; I hope she has been given back the joy of life.

When we started our adoption process for our daughter, I somehow did not think of the above experience.  We are so accomplished at compartmentalizing our lives, it just didn't enter my mind.  So when we visited Lexy as well as when she first arrived home, one of the first things that stood out to us was that she didn't pretend or imagine.  She would just functionally play with toys and often by herself, without seeming to want or know what to do with any interaction from us.  It was an odd place to find ourselves.  First, we were with a child who literally didn't know how to pretend and second, wondering how to teach this assumed innate skill.

The thing that started Lexy on her journey of imagination was when one random time we pretended to take a nap, covering up with one of her blankets and accompanying the game with exaggerated snoring.  She found this absolutely hilarious and for a while after would mimic us in this game.  Pretending started with a simple real-life action.  This trend continued as we then started to pretend that her toy animals were going on car rides to places we had actually been together, like the park or the bank.  Soon, no matter what toy we were playing with, Lexy would always want it to “go on a car ride.”  Sometimes, this continued repetition was exhausting for us, as we wanted variety, but it was so good for her.

Gradually, her categories for pretend increased and by the time Jon came home, she was doing her best to help him learn to do the same.  We often would have to help poor Jon out, though, as he knew little English and had no clue what Lexy was rattling on about.  Often she would pretend at him, as if he was fully engaged with what was happening, at least in her mind anyway.  For a while, he just could not grasp what was going on. What words he did understand, he understood in a concrete, literal way.  I am happy to say that, in his 11 months with us, this is changing.  For Jon, it was elevators.  He loves them and he slowly began to pretend that everything was an elevator, even when it made no logical sense.  We were so happy to see this process start with him.  Now, he pretends beyond just elevators to airplanes, for example. He now plays along with Lexy in her imaginary friend world, which can be quite amusing, if not confusing for us at times.  He loves pretending to go to Florida and see family.  Again, it is starting with real life, concrete things that we have actually done.  It warms my heart every time I hear my two children pretending together, knowing how long they had gone without this simple joy that is, to our American sentiments, an assumed characteristic of childhood.

I wanted to share our experience in this area for two reasons.  First, for anyone considering adoption or being a foster parent, this is something very important to be aware of.  This way, you can be thinking now how you can help your child learn this beautiful and vital aspect of play.  The second reason is simply to highlight another example as to why you may want to consider adoption or being a foster parent.  Children should not face malnutrition, abuse, and hardship; they should be given the chance to have a safe, loving home.  But beyond those needs, they should have the chance to be children, to experience the simple joy of play for its own sake.  Adoption and/or being a foster parent can open up so many possibilities for children and even this seemingly simple aspect of play can have such a positive impact as they grow.