Betty's Prayer...

While it has been many months since an update, I thought it was fitting to restart our posts with something that has been on our heart more recently. I hope to soon follow this post with an update on our family, what we have been doing, how Jonatan is, and what we are looking forward to.

Sometimes, it is in an individual's death that you are reminded of just how special that person really was. And so it is the case with Dave's Mom. Back in the end of August, Betty traveled home to be with her Lord, and she will be dearly missed.

The initial news of her death came as a surprise. We had just spent a wonderful vacation with she and Dad in Toronto with Dave's brothers and their families. She had been doing so well...after two strokes and complications with her heart, this was the most clear that she had been in a couple years. She seemed on a path to getting back to her old self. Perhaps these final moments together were a gift for us as family.

A prayer...

"Lord, I'm yours~fill my cup (me) with 'sweet water' that what spills over may be a blessing to others. Fill me with your love. Fill me with your wisdom, your perspective, your patience. Fill me with hope based on faith and trust in You and your power and sovereignty. Fill me with your peace and serenity. Lord, you were never in a hurry~never flustered or rattled.

Fill me with Your Spirit. I submit to Your Lordship~to your control. This life is so short~eternity is forever. Lord, make my life count~glorify yourself in me. Take me~I'm yours.

Make my commitment a very practical, down-to-eart, tangible thing~that my husband & children can see, know, and feel."

In the front of her Bible, Betty had fixed this prayer. I can only imagine that this was something she daily meditated on, along with the scores of verses highlighted and noted. And, her life was a picture of the words written however long ago in that prayer. In remembering her with family and friends, it was amazing to hear just how significant an impact she had in the lives of others. Her love for Christ and His work always abounded, even when she felt trapped inside her own body following her strokes. I could go on about her, and I am sure that when I was done she would seem larger than life. Really, though, time spent with Betty was always about drawing close to the Lord. That was her greatest desire and gift for not just her family, but for all she met. It was evident in how she lived her life.

On September 11th, Dave's parents would have celebrated their 50th anniversary. Dave had the opportunity to spend the day with his Dad remembering. While a sad and somber occasion, it was a day of remembering back to those first days of getting to know one another and the day that began a beautiful almost 5 decades of marriage together. Their marriage has taught us a lot about persevering, and much more about life in Christ. We are thankful for the influence both of them have had on our lives, both individually and as a couple. We are praying for Dave's Dad as he grieves his "Tweety-pie" and considers the 'what nexts' of life. I have attached a copy of Betty's obituary if anyone is interested in reading it.

Betty L. Derr
(June 19, 1935 - August 23, 2009)

Betty L. Derr, 74, of 1340 Northway Road, Williamsport, died suddenly Sunday, August 23, 2009 at the Williamsport Hospital. Betty and her husband, Rev. Charles W. Derr, would have observed their 50th anniversary on September 11.

Betty and her husband were missionaries for 34 years in Colombia, Costa Rica and Canada. She was a graduate of Wheaton College, Wheaton, Ill., a member of Community Baptist Church and volunteered for the American Rescue Workers, Prison Fellowship and the Child Evangelism Fellowship.

Born June 19, 1935 in Hugo, Okla., she was the daughter of Edmund and Mary Louise Kennedy Miller.

Surviving besides her husband are sons, Mark E. (Ingrid) and Kenneth C. (Jennifer) both of Toronto, Can., and David P. (Sheila) of Harrisburg; a daughter, Kathryn R. Rice of Williamsport and seven grandchildren.

In lieu of flowers the family suggests donations to the Child Evangelism Fellowship, 460 Market Street, Williamsport, PA 17701.

Oops...

So, I realized that the 'You Tube' pictoral video I put together was private. I am not sure then if anyone was able to see it. Sorry there is no music; the next one will be put to music. Enjoy!

One Year Ago...

...we were in Pereira, Colombia, beginning our first steps as family together! I remember how nervous and excited we were to meet Jonatan for the first time. Repetitive flipping through paperwork and photos, checking our packing numerous times to ensure we hadn't forgotten a thing, and the endless talk of what was to come in meeting Jonatan and growing our family by one. I even remember how surreal that first meeting seemed. Standing in the visitation room that so many other children and their forever families had once visited...watching the shadows of people coming and going just outside our room (the walls were translucent), and wondering which bodies would finally represent our social worker, psychologist, and Jonatan.

Those moments seemed like forever as we sat, held each other, paced, and looked out the window. Soon the ICBF psychologist appeared to begin reviewing a list of questions and information: did we have any questions? how were we feeling about all of this? what we needed to remember in meeting Jonatan for the first time...the scope of thoughts and feelings that he may be experiencing as well. additional information collected since our last update. Despite having a translator, I remember thinking, "I am so glad there is two of us to remember all of this; because I don't think I am going to remember it all." My thoughts continued to wander to what was coming next...that long awaited moment of meeting...the shadows that danced along the wall as people walked back and forth just outside our room...the smell...the breeze...the din of people in the background. Oh, when would that anticipated moment arrive?

And then, without much transition, our psychologist explained that Jonatan was indeed in the building and wanted to know whether we were ready to meet him or not. By this time we had seen just a couple pictures of him and had only a fraction of an idea of just how big, exciting, and wonderful his personality was. Both of us looked at each other, nodded in agreement, and then proceeded to tell the psychologist that yes we were ready. I remember feeling very excited and happy for this moment, yet equally nervous about the events that were coming and how they would unfold. I remember my hands beginning to sweat, my heart beginning to speed up, and feeling a loss for words. How would Jonatan react? Afterall, we were told that he would most likely be crying, and because of his age, temperament, and other factors he may not be interested in coming to us. These were all things to be expected. How would we react? Oh, how much I wanted for our son to know how deeply we loved him, desired him to be a part of our life, and how equally sad we were for the events that were about to unfold. What to say? How to be? Only time and those first few moments would reveal just how the Lord would guide us through taking our first steps together.

And then, in the distance came crying and footsteps that could be heard above the din; closer they continued to come until small specks of shadow turned into 3 life-sized bodies through those translucent windows. What followed was a brief swinging of the door into the room where we waited with our lawyer and translator. The crying briefly stopped as Jonatan took in his new surroundings, the somewhat familiar people that stood before him, and the words being spoken to him in Spanish by his social worker. To this day, I do not remember what I said...I can't remember what Dave said. What I do remember is the social worker coming closer, and Jonatan's expression going from momentary intrigue and interest to concern and fear. By the time he was in my arms, he was crying again. His little body stiffening here and there. His arms turned and reaching out to the social worker that he had grown to know and trust. I wondered how terrible this must feel; how confusing; I wondered if this had happened before.

Despite all of our attempts to distract and redirect with toys, Jonatan just wasn't having any of it. If I was in his shoes, I think I would have felt the same way. For a then 19 month old I am not sure even the 'perfect' preparation could have prepared him for all that was in store. It wasn't long before Jonatan's crying and protest gave way to vomit and a rapid change of clothes and then more crying and reaching for anyone that was not me or Dave. I can't tell you how heart-breaking these moments were. What Jonatan, what all adoptive children, go through in order to be joined with a forever family. We were told that in a toddler this may or may not be most vividly seen...although in this day we had a vivid picture of what the joining of our two worlds would mean in that moment and the future for Jonatan. We were assured that this was a very good thing. His open grieving, fear, and even anger were necessary parts of the process of beginning our life together, yet despite knowing this I remember how sick my stomach felt. How I hoped and prayed that we could continue that grieving and growing process with him well. I remember thinking to myself, "Lord, thank you for this little one, and please help. We can't do this on our own."

All the while Dave was trying to concentrate on reviewing some material, a photo album, and other items with the social worker that Jonatan's foster parents had sent. It wasn't long though before the psychologist and social worker both agreed that it would be better that we just head on over to El Cortijo as remaining at the ICBF office was not helpful to Jonatan. His crying and fitful protest was still at its height. So, out the door we went. We got into our translator, Mauricio's, car. As the car began to move and whisk by buildings, farms, vehicles, and people, Jonatan's sweaty body slowly began to transition from less rigid to more relaxed, and moments later his little head was nestled into my neck, his arms wrapped around me, his breathing beginning to slow from heaving to slow even breaths. By the time we were back to El Cortijo, he was asleep in my arms. Although this did not last very long, it was one of the first more peaceful moments for all of us as a family. I remember then thinking, "Thank you, God, for this moment, your presence and provision. We need you to figure out how to navigate these moments as a family. Please help Dave and I to be aware of your work in Jonatan, how that is coming together in your time, and how we as parents can join you in it. Help us to know how to care for him as he is grieving and getting to know us."

Moments later we were walking the corridor to the entrance of El Cortijo. Betty, one of the women who worked there, had opened the door for us and was now also speaking loving words of welcome and adoration to Jonatan. He had awakened although did not say a word and proceeded to cling tighter. He continued to watch quietly from my shoulder. With Dave at our side we made our way up to our room to settle into our first few private moments as a family. In the room, he seemed more at ease, although still prone to periodic tearful and less consolable moments. Dave had now begun to go through the material that the social worker had given us, made his way to the photo album Jonatan's foster family had made for him, and settled down to look through it. While his intention was to read through the daily schedule and other helpful tidbits that were included in there, Jonatan seemed equally interested in the big blue album. He had slid down from my lap, tears stopped, and was now standing in front of Dave wanting to be included in the album's viewing. The very first turn revealed a page of Dave and I, the very first picture we had included in our photo pages to Jonatan. Then without hesitation, Jonatan pointed to those two seemingly familiar individuals and declared "Papa y Mama", followed by a glance to us as if realizing just who we were, seeming to make the connection between us and all that he, his foster parents, and social worker had been talking about for so long. Those three simple words brought tears to our eyes and joy to our hearts. The knot that had been forming in the pit of my own stomach seemed to unravel a bit. Here was our son, someone we had wondered about and prayed for on many an occasion.

With the passing of our one year anniversary as a family, I was reminded of how much growing and changing Jonatan, Dave, and I have been through individually and as a family. We wouldn't trade any of those moments, both the joys and challenges of becoming a forever family.

And to you, Toya, nuestro hijo precioso, we love you beyond what words could ever convey. It has been but a privilege and honor to share such a special year with you. You have such a sweet and kind heart, a gentle spirit. It is fun to watch you grow in confidence and strength...to watch as you grow in your enjoyment of music...a blessing to see your desire for learning about Jesus. You are persistent and eager, a self-motivated learner, and very inquisitive...all attributes that we pray God would continue to use to expand his kingdom through your life both now and in the future.

We are reminded this day of your birth father and mother as well. We pray that they would be reassured of your safety and care as thoughts of what has become of you visit them. May God add his blessing and peace to their hearts as they continue to live out their own lives. We pray for their protection, for wisdom and discernment in living life, and for salvation if they do not already know it in Christ.

And lastly, but not least, a special thank you to all of our family, friends, church and adoptive community...this year has been all the more special because we have shared it with you. The richness of our life together is also influenced by you and the relationships that we have with each of you. For those of you that we have yet to know more deeply, we look forward to more opportunities to spend time with you. May God continue to work out his life in all of you!

Happy One Year, Familia Derr! Much love and blessing to you, Toya, nuestro hijo precioso!