A call worthy of a gold-plated phone

For Christmas, PC got me an embarrassingly awesome gift. To make a long story short, I fell in love with a phone this girl at the bus stop had. I called it the Princess Phone. When I did the research, I found out the phone was embellished with real gold and came in a snake skin case. Figures.

Well, PC bought it for me anyway. And I love it, but I also felt a little guilty for being such a material girl who had a phone that cost as much as 40 normal-people phones. At least, I did feel that way, until today, when I got a phone call so totally awesome that it should only have been answered on a gold-plated Princess Phone.


A photo of Vivine with the Christmas present we sent her.

The Haitians approved our adoption! We are going to get Vivine!

It is miraculous news, especially since PC and I did not meet several of Haiti's adoption requirements. We were prepared for a long battle at this stage of the game. While a long battle might still wait for us further down the road, we have completed a major, major step in the process! Now we go into immigration, which will take anywhere from three to six (or longer...) months. Then we can finally bring her home.

I have been walking on air ever since PC called me this morning. I am so excited my stomach is wadded up like a ball of aluminum foil. I know that people tried to talk to me today. I received phone calls, I got e-mails and I listened to the radio in the car, but the whole time all I heard was, "Yes, Lynde is going to be Vivine's mommy, and Chad is going to be the daddy." Over and over and over again. I even wrote it on a piece of paper at my desk. I'm elated!

So now that prayer's answered. What do we pray for next? Well, pray that we can quickly get Vivine's passport from the Haitian Ministry of the Interior. Also, pray that the U.S. Embassy in Port-Au-Prince will approve a visa for Vivine without a hitch. There have been some issues with the Embassy and adoptions recently, but I hope that a new administration in Washington will bring improvements there.

Lastly, I want to share something from the Bible I read this morning during my devotion time. It so perfectly describes what I have gone through as I have waited for this news. I wondered and wondered whether God had forgotten us. I had to keep reminding myself of everything God had done for me up to this point. Now, I have one more reminder of God's goodness. Psalm 77 says:

Will the Lord spurn forever, and never again be favorable?
Has his steadfast love ceased forever?
Are his promises at an end for all time?
Has God forgotten to be gracious? Has he in anger shut up his compassion?
And I say, "It is my grief that the right hand of the Most High has changed."

I will call to mind the deeds of the Lord;
I will remember your wonders of old.
I will meditate on all your work, and muse on your mighty deeds.
Your way, O God, is holy. What god is so great as our God?
You are the God who works wonders; you have displayed your might among the peoples.

Merry food-mas

Today we sent away one set of relatives and started getting ready for the next group, which arrives Tuesday. The past few days of celebration were quite tiring, but in a good way. I will remember this Christmas as the one where I went from full to stuffed to only slightly full and back to stuffed on an hourly basis. We had a lot of food, y'all! I still have at least one edible thing living on every surface in my kitchen. To sum up the party, I decided to rip off Mason-Dixon Knitting, whose authors ripped off another famous Christmas carole:

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me:
Twelve balls of sausage,
Eleven shots of jello
Ten chocolate truffles
Nine cups of coffee
Eight slices of pie
Seven glasses of wine
Six pounds of ham
Five boxes of Triscuits!
Four plates of cookies
Three racks of ribs
Two dozen donuts
And a big bowl of white chili!

(On reading this, PC said, "That's just what I ate!")

How to have a Merry Christmas when you don't get what you want

“Unto us a child is born.” When I was a little girl, hearing those words on Christmas Eve was the most exciting thing that happened in church all year long. Here in church we were celebrating a kid, just like me! The Baby Jesus was someone I could befriend. And knowing what this kid’s future held – growing up to be the savior of the world and all – reminded me that anything was possible.

This year, the words mean something different to me. The adoption process and my journey toward becoming a parent have a lot to do with it. Sometime between summer and fall of this year, the anticipation of our adopting a little girl from Haiti turned into agony for me. My prayers became desperate and incessant. My longing for Vivine turned into a thirst that nothing could quench. I spent hours combing the Internet for rumors about Haiti’s government. I checked the blogs of other adopting couples hourly to see whether they had heard anything. Everything I read, every prayer I prayed, every thought of her deepened the feeling of loss that, let’s face it, came from not having what I wanted when I wanted it.

Then, a couple of weeks ago at worship, those words flashed across the projector screen during the prayer time. “Unto us a child is born,” Isaiah 9:6. Instead of excitement, I felt bitterness. In my heart, I cried out to God, “No! I have asked for Vivine, where is she? Why is it that you can send Jesus year after year, but you are holding captive in Haiti the child I really want?”

The child I really want. As soon as those words crossed my mind, I realized what my problem was. The Pharisees – the Jews who crucified Jesus – had the same problem with Jesus that I had. He was not the savior they really wanted. They wanted – and so did I – a God who would fulfill their human desires. Ironically, that’s exactly what Jesus gave them the end. He gave himself up to be crucified, and the Pharisees ended up with the blood of the Son of God on their hands.

You might be thinking, "Now wait a minute, Lynde. You’re no Pharisee. You just want to have a family, which is a completely natural desire." I thought the same thing. I said to God, “You made me this way. You put this desire in my heart. Why can’t you fulfill it?”

Then I was remembered of the story of Abraham and Isaac. Abraham waited a hundred years to receive his son Isaac, only to have God order him to sacrifice Isaac on an altar when he was a little boy. God didn’t go through with his order, but he also didn’t let Abraham off the hook until Abraham had completely made up his mind to kill Isaac. I can only speculate about why this strange test of obedience took place. But I figure that, between God giving Isaac to Abraham and then demanding that he give him back, something must have gone wrong. Isn’t that how it always is? It’s like we have immediate amnesia when God gives us something. As soon as we have the gift, we think we deserved it, or worse, we made it ourselves. Then, the gift gradually loses its meaning. And the only way to get back the real meaning of the gift is to give it back to God and let him regift it to us again. Imagine how Abraham felt when he realized he got to keep Isaac. I bet he never loved Isaac more than he did that moment.

Some people might think that this whole giving-taking-regiving thing is kind of cruel of God. But I think it’s just good parenting. What parent, when watching their child misuse a new toy, hasn’t said, “If you don’t stop hitting your (brother/sister/friend/self) with that, I’m going to take it away.” The glory of God is revealed in Christmas because he doesn’t give us what we want. Instead, he gives us what we need.

For me, this Christmas is about letting go of what I don’t have and learning to receive the gifts God has given me. Like an amazing husband. A big ol’ family that loves me lots. A comfy home. A stable job in an uncertain economy. And, yes, a little baby to be my friend and my savior.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Home for the Holidays: A Virtual Tour

I love having Christmas at home. It was a lifelong dream of mine to have Christmas my way at my house. Lucky for me, I fell in love with a guy who has to work on the holidays, so we have the perfect excuse to stay home every year. Here's a glimpse of what we do 'round here:


I have great penmanship, as you can see. Not really. Those are rub-on letters.

Here is what you see when you walk in the front door. Those ornaments are for our guests to keep. I have a holiday tradition of giving my family members an ornament every year. I try to do hand-made, but this year's ornament is a hybrid. I bought the ornaments at Target and added the felt stick-on "08" numbers myself.


Obviously, Mary and Joseph had a Christmas tree.

That's one of my favorite decorations. It's sort of a Christmas mobile. We got it in Haiti.


Baby Jesus has to wait outside the stable until it's time to be born.

There's our biggest nativity set. We have several, 'cuz Jesus is the reason for the season!


We hang our stockings under the TV since we don't have a fireplace. You gotta let your inner redneck out just a little at Christmas.

Here's the main attraction - the new tree. Doesn't it look awesome?


Presents galore.

Another tree view. You will notice that we have a lot of presents. I'm not gonna lie - they are all for us. We went a little nuts this Christmas. To ring in the New Year, we're going to have a "Guess the Langdon's credit card balance" contest on the blog...


Mmmmmm, pork products.

Finally, I felt like I had to show you the freezer. I am soooo prepared; We already bought all the food we will need for the next two weeks. I have spent the last three days telling PC, "Don't eat that! It's for Christmas!" Tomorrow, the feasting begins.

Oh, Christmas Treats, Oh, Christmas Treats...

This year's Christmas prep has gone quite well compared to years' past. I had my annual Christmas meltdown the weekend after Thanksgiving. I won't go into details, except to say that it involved tears, an extended sit-in in the bathroom, and, eventually, a new Christmas tree. Last year's meltdown (click here to read the full episode) occurred December 11, which means I was a full two weeks ahead in holiday prep this year. That left plenty of time in the month of December for Christmas cheer.

For example, this was the first year since getting married that I actually managed to bake Christmas cookies. In years past, the amount of organization and preparation required was completely outside my domestic skill set. But things have been changing around our house, and, last weekend, PC and I baked our little hearts out.


Call me Martha. Nevermind that I stole that apron from a church kitchen.


He is having fun. Really.

Bear helped, too, by cleaning up every single sprinkle, pat of butter and grain of sugar we dropped on the floor.


Note the tendril of drool hanging from his left jowl.

I shared some of the cookies at work and Bible study, and I still have plenty left for the company coming next week. Except for these little treats below. They were so good that PC and I ate them all! Ho, ho, ho!


What would Christmas be without Corn Flakes covered in green marshmallow goo?

Potty talk

Picture this:

You're in a public restroom. In the stall. Your cell phone rings. What do you do?

In case you were wondering, the right answer is: NOTHING. That was the choice I made today in the women's bathroom at a local conference center. (My brother called at an *ahem* inopportune moment.) The lady in the stall next to me, however, had apparently never heard of this a great little invention called voice mail. Her phone rang a few seconds after mine, and she answered, "Hello?"

Honestly, for whom is talking on the phone more important than wiping one's own dirty butt? Do you really want to be known as the lady whose phone is covered in bathroom germs? What must the person on the other end of that conversation have thought when they heard me flush the toilet?

Sick, sick, sick.

Depressing news about newspapers

The fact that I work in a non-cyclical, growing industry (health care) is high on my list of things I am thankful for this holiday season. I left the newspaper business in 2004, but not by choice. I couldn't score a news job in St. Louis when we moved here. After eight months of desperate searching, I begrudgingly took a job in the public relations department of a local hospital. I cried on my first day of work because I felt like a "wash out" from the glamorous world of Woodward and Bernstein.

Four years later, I feel like I have a promising career in hospital administration ahead of me. And I realize what a blessing it was to get out of newspapers. Don't get me wrong, there are still folks who will likely retire happy from the biz. But as an under-30 career-person, I would be very nervous to work in any business that was fodder for The Daily Show's "depressing news of the week."

The Daily Show With Jon StewartM - Th 11p / 10c

Clusterf#@k to the Poor House - Final Edition Edition

Barack Obama Interview
John McCain Interview

Sarah Palin Video
Funny Election Video

For any former colleagues reading this blog, what are your thoughts?

Hearts galore

I think we are close to achieving my vision for Vivine's room, which I wanted to be a Valentine's Day explosion. As you can see from the photos of the finished quilt, there is no shortage of hearts in this home.


RIP = Room In Progress

Here's a birds-eye view of the quilt after I spent about 20 minutes making the bed to perfection. I might have to adjust my quilt-alignment expectations if I ever want Vivine to make her own bed.


Can't wait for Vivine to go nighty-night here.

Just to give you an idea of how many hearts we are talking about here, notice the stitch pattern on the quilt. We heart hearts, people!


One, two, three, four....infinity hearts!

I have to give an encore kudo to Mrs. Womack, who, as you can see, did not skimp on the hearts either. Here is (finally) a picture of her cross stitch. This pic was the least blurry of about 20 attempts to take an up-close, non-shaky photo of something on the wall while you're kneeling on a cushy bed.


Love, love, love it!

A gift

Editor's note: I am a bad, bad blogger for not posting a photo of the here-in mentioned cross-stitch. Bear with me - it's finals week and I just can't do it all...

Today was Vivine's birthday. She is now 4. Instead of dwelling on all the have-nots of a day like today, I thought I would tell you about a wonderful gift we received just in time for this special day.

Sunday morning, our good friend Kevin brought us a package. Kevin has been a close friend of both PC and me since college. He grew up from Perryville, Mo., an itty bitty town that I have always pictured as a convenience store and a grain elevator at the intersection of two two-lane highways. Despite its smallness, Perryville does have Internet access. I know so because Kevin has told me his mom, whom I have never met, reads my blog. The gift we received from Kevin was a beautiful framed cross-stitch that his mother made for Vivine’s room. This gift amazes me in several different ways:

1. I didn’t know cross-stitch could look so, well, un-cross-stitchy. My mental image of cross-stitch is the old “ABC sampler” I used to see in Mexican food restaurants in Texas. This piece is so much more detailed and artistic. You can tell a lot of thought and effort went into it.

2. It matches the room perfectly. The fact that I have never met Kevin’s mom means that she has never seen Vivine’s room except for pictures on the blog. Amazingly, though, the pink mat in the frame matches the pink walls, and all of the colors just go together.

3. I love what the actual picture itself represents. It really captures the essence of our family in a very meaningful and sensitive way. At the top it says, “New Beginnings,” and it has a picture of Noah’s Ark. The story of Noah’s Ark tells how God brought a family through a flood and finally rewarded them with the promise of his love and protection. Right now, PC, Vivine and me are all going through storms. PC and I have the storm of the adoption process and the frustrations of starting a non-traditional family. Vivine has faced the storm of leaving her birth family and being raised in a third-world country. But we are looking forward to God’s promise and the day we will all be together. It really will be a new beginning.

At the same time, the pattern has Vivine’s birthday and the name her birthparents gave her, Richecardine. (Vivine is her nickname at the orphanage and the name she most readily answers to.) To me, that honors her identity as a girl whom God made special long before PC and I came into her life.

4. Finally, I just can’t believe that someone who is basically a stranger went to this much effort for Vivine. I mean, I don’t even know Kevin’s mom’s first name. Mrs. Womack, if you’re reading this, thanks a lot. These gifts are the kinds of things that keep me going through the adoption process. I have often wondered why God would take the trouble to answer my prayers to receive Vivine into our family. How do my prayers stand out among the millions of requests God gets each day? But when I realize how many people care about us and are also praying to God for this adoption, I feel hopeful that he will grant us our wish. Not for my sake, but for the sake of the Mrs. Womacks of the world, who share our hope and prayers.

PS. The quilt made by MIL is also finished, and will soon be introduced to cyberspace, too.


Happy birthday, baby.

Thanksgiving and finals

We survived our trip to the in-laws house for Thanksgiving. I say “survived” because we encountered some trouble on the road both to and from St. Joseph. We got a flat tire on the way there, and we had to divert off the Interstate on the way home because of a bad wreck. The trip usually takes about 4.5 hours, but it took at least an hour longer both ways this past weekend.

The part in-between the two dreadful road trips was great, though. PC’s mom insists on cooking Thanksgiving dinner by herself every year despite the protests of her adoring children. (That’s a fib; we are as aggressive as newborn kittens with our attempts to help.) I did make one contribution this year, however: I fixed banana pudding for desert. I have loved banana pudding since I was a kid, so I decided to add it to the dessert line-up behind the pumpkin and pecan pies. (There was a brief debate over whether banana pudding could be a side dish, but the consensus on the Internet was dessert all the way.) The Langdons were a little confused at first – like perhaps they had never heard of banana pudding? I thought, "Well, maybe it’s a Southern thing." In actuality, I think Midwesterners have a much stronger devotion to traditional Thanksgiving dishes than Texans. I know plenty of Texans who are ambivalent about turkey and dressing, perhaps because we identify more with cowboys and Indians, who admittedly had a much more strained relationship than the pilgrims and Indians. Regardless, the dinner was dee-lish, and everyone agreed the banana pudding was tasty once they got used to it.

The Langdons will reconvene at our house for Christmas this year. I still have one major obstacle to surmount before then: finals. My ability to trade studying for sleep has severely diminished since college. To help me crank up my energy for cramming, PC made me a "Finals Survival Kit" just like the care packages my parents used to send when I was at good ol' Mizzou. PC included coffee, real Coke (I lived on the stuff in college, but now it is definitely a treat), a new pack of highlighters, a cute pen with a feather on it, and a large assortment of gummy candy. Like banana pudding, I have had a long-standing love affair with the entire family of gummy treats. Here's something quirky some of you might not know: I love to consume food using the smallest bites possible. I cut up all kinds of food, including salad and spaghetti. I'd like to think it's because I am so lady-like -- no scarfing or guzzling for me, thank you! -- but I'm probably just a freak. Ice cream, pudding and yogurt are awesome because you can eat them one lick at a time. Gummies can be divided into almost microscopic portions without crumbling; my average gummy bear lasts four bites.

Despite my OCD eating habits, I have managed to eat almost an entire bag of gummies in one night. That's probably more calories than my entire Thanksgiving dinner. What can I say? A girl needs her brain food!