Dear Teena,

Everytime I hear "Praise You In The Storm" I think of you. I think of the Father first, and feel like crying in gratitude to Him.

:And then I see you...standing in a barren, dry land with fruitless rain pelting all around you, your wet face lifted to the heavens, declaring His faithfulness.

You will never...never!...know what your sharing of your life has given me. Thank you. Thank you for sharing that song with me during such a difficult time in my life. And thank you for letting me see how the knowledge of those words hold you up

You are a wonderful...an amazing...example to me.

Love, Shurleen

**************************************************************************

Praise You in This Storm
words by Mark Hall/music by Mark Hall and Bernie Herms

I was sure by now, God, You would have reached down
and wiped our tears away,
stepped in and saved the day.
But once again, I say amen
and it's still raining
as the thunder rolls
I barely hear You whisper through the rain,
"I'm with you"
and as Your mercy falls
I raise my hands and praise
the God who gives and takes away.

Chorus:
And I'll praise you in this storm
and I will lift my hands
for You are who You are
no matter where I am
and every tear I've cried
You hold in your hand
You never left my side
and though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm

I remember when I stumbled in the wind
You heard my cry to You
and raised me up again
my strength is almost gone how can I carry on
if I can't find You
and as the thunder rolls
I barely hear You whisper through the rain
"I'm with you"
and as Your mercy falls
I raise my hands and praise
the God who gives and takes away

Chorus

I lift my eyes unto the hills
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth
I lift my eyes unto the hills
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth

Chorus

Christine asked for an update on The Eleven Oreos. I'm afraid we haven't been too exciting this year, but for what it's worth...and thank you, Christine(!), for praying for us.

Tim just got home from a 6 week class he had to attend in Alabama. He went back into the Air Force last year...the Guard...as a chaplain's assistant.  He's been considering getting his master's degree in theology since that is what it takes in the Air Force to be a chaplain. But I'm thinking he is in exactly the right position. He has the strongest affect on people when he is just "one of the guys".

His 6 weeks away was challenging, to say the least. I don't know how you single moms do it! The authority as head of household just about crushed me! After the first 2 weeks, we quit doing school. Something had to give.

Tim has been back a week now. We just started up school again last Monday, to Jacob's (13) relief. Jacob loves school. He likes *doing* school. He studies constantly on his own, but doesn't consider that "school".

"You are such a nerd," I say to him.

"I know," he says with a big grin. "So is Indiana Jones. Just don't call me a nerdy twit."

"Why not?" I ask.

"Because if you mix the letters up, it says trendy wit, and I'm not a trendy anything" he said.

Groan.

His favorite cartoon character is Jason from Foxtrot.

My oldest son and his family were getting ready to move into another place, and I asked them if they could stay with me while Tim was gone. So Joshua and his wife and his three children moved into our very large family room. The two girls slept in the girls room, and all five girls had a 6 week long slumber party.

Joshua's youngest, Noah, is the same age as my Abraham. Two. The two boys tore my house apart. My carpet will never be the same. I loved it.

I miss them.

But I'm glad to have Tim home.

We are all looking forward to what we hope is a "normal" and restful year now.  Last year was so dark. Molly said she hoped this summer it wouldn't rain so much.

"It didn't rain that much last year," I said.

"It felt like it," she said. "Everything felt dark and damp."

We can use some sunshine in this house.

I cannot use the name of our son here anymore. I've written about him too personally, and we do not legally have the right to any part of his life, so from here on out, I'll have to refer to him as Jumoke. I'm not sure I've changed his name in other places on this blog, so I'll have to go back and do so.

[For those of you not familiar with this part of our story, we adopted two boys from Liberia five years ago. One of them would not bond with us, and as he grew older, he became a stressor...and my husband felt, a danger...to our other children, and we had to dissolve the adoption last year. He came to us at 4 years of age, and left our home last May 24 at 8 years of age. It was very very trying on all of us. As far as we know, he's never really asked after or about any of us except for our baby (now toddler), Abraham. It seems he was glad to move on, which in a strange way, gives my heart some solace.]

We don't know how he is doing. Since he was adopted by another family, we have lost all rights to know anything. We are assuming that the adoption agency, just out of compassion, will let us know if they find another home for him. As far as we know, he is still in the foster home that he was placed in after the adoption failed.

Things have been a bit better since Christmas. I still have "bad Jumoke days". Some of the children try to forget he ever lived here, because remembering still makes them cry. But overall, we are healing up. Solomon is doing best of all. He has bonded to us so deeply that I no longer feel like an adoptive mom at all. When someone asks me about adoption, I can't answer. I feel like a fake. I'm just a regular mom who had one very big baby.

And Solomon has slowly come to the place where he has shared more and more about the "prison" he was in while Jumoke was here. He thinks someone told him to take care of Jumoke when they left Liberia. He definitely felt totally responsible for Jumoke's actions. The freedom from the care of Jumoke at first crippled him and grieved him tremendously. But after time, he was able to breathe freely and just live...for the first time since he was 7 years old. Solomon is finally getting his memories of Liberia back that we thought he had lost completely. I think the situation with Jumoke was hardest on Sol.

Other than my older at-home children beginning to enter into the puberty years...which is huge news if you live here because WOW! does it get heated some days(and smelly...should boys of that age share a room and combine that smell?)...other than that, we are still very much the same as we were a year ago. Which I suppose we should really be grateful for. The Father has held us together during a very difficult time and we have come out whole...and maybe a bit better because our love for the Father has increased.

Thank you for praying for us, those of you who did. It's a great delight being on the other side of last year. We...especially me...still have a way to go, but I'm suspecting there are some wounds that never heal this side of heaven.

The other day, I noticed a small red spot on my chin.  It itched and looked funny. I kept my eye on it and found that the silly thing was growing and blistering.

I remembered having cold sores on my chin as a child, but I couldn't remember how my mom had taken care of them. But a cold sore is a cold sore, so I asked some friends if they knew a quick way to make a cold sore go away.

My friend, Polly, said that her sister gets cold sores, and she swears by Preparation H. So I asked my husband to stop by the store on the way home from Boy Scouts and pick up some Prep H.

Tim came in the door, handed me the tube of Prep H, and watched me with a puzzled look as I smeared a little of it on the red blistered area on my chin.

"Is that supposed to go on that end of the body?" he asked.

"Polly's sister swears by it," I answered, in a tone that said there was no question that Prep H could go anywhere Polly's sister said it could go.

I waited expectantly for the little blister to disappear, but it grew. And grew. And grew.

I considered getting a Muslim face scarf. This was getting desperate. People couldn't talk to me without staring at my chin. By yesterday afternoon, all of me had disappeared except for my poor blistered chin. At least, the way that people stared at my chin as I walked by made me sure that my chin was all of me that they could see.

My mother called this morning. Her chickens had escaped from the chicken yard again, and she needed a few children to help her get them back in. I dropped the kids off, and ran with the rest of the kids to the store to try to find some limestone, alum, and plaster of paris for a science experiment.

When I came out of the store, my mother was parked near our van, with the three little helpers waiting for me to come out. As I walked toward her vehicle, my mother...my very own mother who bore me and raised me...even she could not take her eyes from my chin.

"Wow, Shurleen," she said. "It's really bad this time."

"Yes," I said. "It's been so long since I've had a cold sore. I forgot what we did for them, but my friend suggested Preparation H. I'm hoping it will kick in pretty quick here."

"How long have you been using it," Mom asked.

"About three days," I answered.

"Well, you are lucky it hasn't spread all over your face!" she exclaimed. "That's not a cold sore! It's impetigo! The only way to get rid of it is to keep it clean and use antibiotic ointment. That's a bacteria growing on your chin and you are letting that gel make a warm, protected place for it to grow!"

Oh yuck!

I raced home, washed the thing clean of Preparation H, smothered it in antibiotic cream, and repeated the process once an hour.  A few hours later, I finally noticed the red gone, the blisters drying out, and the whole thing a tiny bit smaller.

The Preparation H went into our first aid box in case anyone comes down with a *real* cold sore.

My friend, Brenda, posted a number of quotes by famous people that made me feel a lot less stupid. At least compared to some of the people below, I feel as smart as Norman Einstein.

****************************************************

(On September 17, 1994, Alabama's Heather Whitestone was selected as Miss America 1995.)
Question: If you could live forever, would you and why?
Answer: "I would not live forever, because we should not live forever, because if we were supposed to live forever, then we would live forever, but we cannot live forever, which is why I would not live forever," --Miss Alabama in the 1994 Miss USA contest.

``````````````````````````````````
"Whenever I watch TV and see those poor starving kids all over the world, I can't help but cry. I mean I'd love to be skinny like that, but not with all those flies and death and stuff."
--Mariah Carey
```````````````````````````````````
"Smoking kills. If you're killed, you've lost a very important part of your life," --Brooke Shields, during an interview to become spokesperson for federal anti-smoking campaign.

```````````````````````````````````
"I've never had major knee surgery on any other part of my body," --Winston Bennett, University of Kentucky basketball forward.

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"Outside of the killings, Washington has one of the lowest crime rates in the country," -Mayor Marion Barry, Washington, DC.

```````````````````````````````````
"That lowdown scoundrel deserves to be kicked to death by a jack***, and I'm just the one to do it," --A congressional candidate in Texas.

````````````````````````````
"Half this game is ninety percent mental."
--Philadelphia Phillies manager, Danny Ozark

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"It isn't pollution that's harming the environment. It's the impurities in our air and water that are doing it." --Al Gore, Vice President

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"I love California . I practically grew up in Phoenix." --Dan Quayle

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"We've got to pause and ask ourselves: How much clean air do we need?" --Lee Iacocca

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"The word "genius" isn't applicable in football. A genius is a guy like Norman Einstein." --Joe Theisman, NFL football quarterback & sports analyst.

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"We don't necessarily discriminate. We simply exclude certain types of people."
--Colonel Gerald Wellman, ROTC Instrutor.

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"Traditionally, most of Australia 's imports come from overseas." --Keppel Enderbery

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"Your food stamps will be stopped effective
March 1992 because we received notice that you passed away. May God bless you. You may reapply if there is a change in your circumstances." --Department of Social Services, Greenville, South Carolina

```````````````````````````````````
"If somebody has a bad heart, they can plug this jack in at night as they go to bed and it will monitor their heart throughout the night. And the next morning, when
they wake up dead, there'll be a record"
--Mark S. Fowler, FCC Chairman

This blog is on a temporary extended hiatus.

I have some other commitments that I need to put my time and heart into. If you stumbled across this blog, you should find plenty to read...if you are checking back to see if anything new has been added and don't have anything better to do, read some of the old stuff.

It might be a while before I get back to writing here, but if you would like me to contact you when I start writing again, leave a comment or email me at tsouza@centurytel.net and I will put you on a list, which at this time includes only my mother, who is not as faithful at reading her daughter's blog as she should be. Considering that I talk her ear off most of the time, I don't hold the not reading against her.

Last night I asked one of the kids to get me a piece of bread for Abraham.

"What are you going to put on it?" Mahala asked.

"Nothing," I replied. "He likes it plain."

"You have to put something on it. He's not supposed to eat it plain," Mahala said.

"Huh? Why not? He likes it that way!" I said.

"The Bible says that you have to put stuff on your bread," she said.

"It does not!" I said, laughing.

"Yes! It really does!" she said. "I just read it."

"Where does it say that?" I asked.

"Where Jesus told us that man does not live on bread alone," she said. Completely serious! I'm not kidding! The girl really thought that's what the scripture meant!

I laughed and laughed and called Tim and told him and she was blushing and smiling and not really sure why I was laughing. She was so innocent, but I had to explain about interpreting scripture within its context...which she didn't quite get. She is only 8, after all.

My husband is in the Air Force Reserves as a chaplain's assistant. He's hoping to get his master's of divinity while serving and become a chaplain someday himself. He'll be *very* good at that job. He has such a great and humble heart toward those who serve in the military.

 

Following are some letters I want to keep for my children:

 

**************************************************

Well, after that last dismal post....

 

"So, Shurleen, what do you want for Christmas?"

 

"I want to laugh.  I want to laugh so hard my tummy hurts and my cheeks ache and the tears are frosting my cheeks and I get so tickled I snort."

 

"Well, Merry Christmas, Shurleen. Here you go."

 

You may have read some of these articles before. But in case you haven't, please begin reading from the first link. You might feel like getting into a bit of a tiff at first, but keep reading. I promise the last link will be worth it! And make sure you don't read the last link until you've read the first two, otherwise you will only be mildly amused.

 

Homeschools Run By Well Meaning Amateurs

 

Meet Dave Arnold: NEA columnist

 

Ramblings, Rants, & Remedies

 

Oh man! I'm dyin' here!

It's been a while since I've written here. I've been writing, but it isn't stuff that I can post online. Life has been...unsettled...for us. Sometimes it's best when things are hard to circle the wagons and withdraw into a place where there is safety and understanding and the only voices you can hear are those who bear you up...and the Father.

 

I was thinking this morning about how sometimes I'm afraid to talk to the Father.

 

I'm afraid of what He might say back.

 

Specifically, I was wondering what He would say if I brought each of my children before Him and asked Him what I should get each one for Christmas.

 

Do you know I was afraid to ask because I was afraid He might say, "The best thing you can get your children is nothing."

 

Perhaps He won't. Now that I know I'm afraid, I'm going to ask anyway.

 

But there have been other times I was afraid to ask Him what I should do because I was afraid His answer would have been too hard.

 

I'm such an American.

 

I'm such a fat, rich, spoiled American.

 

I'm such a "my way or the highway" American.

 

This has been such a hard year for my family. I can remember two other such difficult years in my life. One was when my father left us for another family when I was a teen. The other was when my oldest son reached the bottom of a very dark pit.

 

I've lived through all three years, complete with healed scars and deepened faith and a desperate dependence on the Father, Who, by the way, I am convinced is the author of every breath I take.

 

I remember the first bad year, I didn't want to ask the Father what I should do because I knew I didn't want to hear what He would ask of me...so I didn't ask. I just went my own way, and have five years of death to show for it.

 

The second bad year, the one with my son, I did ask, but the fear of what the Father might ask of me was so terrifying that I begged for mercy louder than I mumbled my request of His will.

 

This third year...I wonder why it doesn't get much easier being human?

 

Not long ago, a family was found for our adopted son with whom we had to dissolve our adoption.  We signed away, relinquished, gave to strangers, all of our rights to this child. It was one of the hardest days of my entire life.

 

His adoption with the family didn't last. They disrupted after a few weeks. Our son...I don't know what else to call him yet...is in another foster home. I don't know what will happen to him.

 

I need to ask the Father what I should do now. But I'm afraid to. I'm afraid of what He might ask of me.

 

Still.

 

Is that insane or what?

 

His love for me is deeper by far than the love I feel for my children. His wisdom makes my wisdom look like nothing...less than an atom.

 

And still, I try to protect myself from Him.

 

I am a fool.

 

But I am a fool who can learn.

 

I will ask.

Last night when I was making the "good night" rounds, Mahala wanted to show me something she had made.

She had taken a thin rope, tied one end of it to the top bunk and the other end to Jared's lego table.  In the middle, she had tied the rope around a Rainbow Brite doll. Under the doll, she had put a shoe box turned upside down, and the doll's feet rested on the box.

Mahala would pull on the rope and make the doll dance on her little "stage".

I laughed and enjoyed watching the doll dance and twirl.

Mahala makes all kinds of interesting things. She has a full ranch she made stretched out on her bedroom floor with all kinds of cute details. She's made things out of paper that are amazing, like a bunkbed that stands 1 foot tall and 8 inches long for paper dolls. She puts together the most amazing outfits for herself...funky and cute...and collects little things to create doll and tiny animal homes.

I called Tim in to watch the doll dance, and we smiled and laughed and I said, "She has such a gift for creating fun things."

All of a sudden, from up and down the hallway, children in bed began calling out, "What's my gift, Mom? What's my gift?"

Children need us to name them.

Not only give them their birth names, but name them...tell them who they are and what they can be and how they can do it. They need to hear from someone they trust how wonderful they are so that when they are not wonderful, they know that someone saw something really good in there. So that they can know God made them for a purpose.

We found out that a Liberian woman who works in the orphanage Solomon was adopted from was visiting in the States and was willing to take letters and photos back to relatives.  Liberia's postal system was destroyed along with much of the country's infrastructure during the long years of coups and civil wars. 

 

We were so thrilled to have this opportunity, so we wrote letters to both Solomon's birth mother as well as Peter's.  I felt so privileged to be able to write these letters. God is so good to allow this bit of contact for all the parents involved.

 

Solomon wrote this sweet note to his birth mother.

 

Dear Mom,

 

How are you? I am fine. I have 5 brothers and 3 sisters. I have a baby brother. His name is Abraham and he is cute.  I miss you. How about you? My mom is great. She has a great sense of humor and I tease her a lot. My dad is great too. He wrestles with me and teaches me things. Please thank Granddad for coming to the orphanage to check on me. I love you. Solomon.

 

We sent photos in both packages. A couple photos of Peter that are heartbreakingly cute and sweet went to his birth mother. And to Solomon's mother we sent handsome photos of Sol as well as photos of both of the boys for the grandparents. Solomon's mother lives with her father and mother (males are the heads of houses, and her husband is dead), and her parents are also the parents of Peter's mother. So we knew they would appreciate photos of both boys together.

 

*******************

 

Dear Cecelia,

 

How excited I was to find out that we could communicate with you. You do not know how I have desired to speak to the mother of Solomon (Ouseman).  From the time he came into our home, I have felt you were my sister that we shared in loving this little man who is so remarkable.

 

Solomon was very excited to find out that he could write to you as well.  He has your photo on his bedroom wall.  He has been able to learn to love me while still maintaining his deep love and loyalty toward you.  He is a very remarkable young man. We have so much loved having him in our home. We can’t imagine what life would have been like without having him be a part of us. Thank you so very much for sharing him with us, for trusting him into our care. 

 

Solomon was very concerned about your health and the health of his granddad and grandmother.  We were sorry we couldn’t tell him more than that his mother was still alive.  We understood that a grandfather had come to the orphanage, but we weren’t sure if it was Solomon’s and Peter’s grandfather, or if it was Peter’s grandfather.  We all very much hope you are all well and healthy.

 

Solomon is doing very well. He has become a close and vibrant part of our family. Everyone loves him very much. His brothers and sisters find him a loyal and good friend.

 

Our favorite thing about Solomon is his loud, deep laugh.  Oh, how he laughs.  He makes the rest of us laugh with him, just by hearing his laughter

 

As you can see by the enclosed photos, Solomon’s eyes are opened. When he first came to live with us, we took him to an eye doctor who said that he could see just fine, even though his eyes were mostly closed.  However, Solomon was not able to learn to read or do math.  After two years of teaching him and finding that he was not able to do the easiest things, we took him to a different doctor.

 

This doctor said that Solomon was virtually blind.  His eyelashes had grown inward because of the shape of his eyes and were scratching his eyes so badly that he could see only enough to get around, certainly not enough to learn to read.

 

So Solomon went through a surgery to open his eyes and pull his eyelashes back.  Within a year of that surgery, Solomon went through three grades in his schooling. Usually each grade takes one year. Solomon did three years work in one year. We were very proud of him.  Sol also went thru a surgery to correct the hernia in his tummy, and that went well. 

 

Solomon can read at a lower level now, but is progressing well. He does very well in math.  He has a good imagination and uses Lego, a toy that is many tiny pieces of plastic blocks that attach together, to make wonderful creations, like special jets and vehicles.  He has a very good mind.

 

Solomon is in Boy Scouts. This is a group for special young men that teach them how to be good citizens, how to use survival skills, and how to be good, solid young men.  He loves Boy Scouts and hanging out with the other guys. They camp and go sailing and hiking and all kinds of fun things that teach them to be physically strong and morally good.

 

Solomon’s best friend is our oldest son, Jacob, who is 13.  You can see Jacob sitting right next to Solomon in the photo.  They spend all of their time together, sharing a bedroom and play with each other almost exclusively. Both boys love each other very much.

 

There is a photo of Solomon with our baby, Abraham.  Solomon loves Abraham. He feeds him and cares for him.  He often says that Abraham looks just like him and laughs just like him.  He identifies with Abraham in a very special way. And Abraham trusts Solomon and lets Solomon care for him.

 

Solomon is a very hard worker. We can ask him to do anything, and he does it well. He is also very respectful to my husband and me.  He is such a good boy. You obviously raised him very well. Your efforts with Solomon are blessing our family.

 

Solomon is also affectionate with us. He likes to joke with us and tease us.  He likes it when his dad wrestles with him or when I kiss him all over the face and tickle him.  He teases his sisters constantly, but they love it. They know he is a good young man and that he loves them, so they take his teasing well.

 

Solomon’s main interests lie in learning about past wars and the generals and soldiers that fought in the wars. He hopes to be a soldier when he grows up.  He very much has a heart that says that bad men can only be put down if good men stand up and fight against them.  He admires our president, President George Bush, because President Bush offered to help Liberia during the difficult times they had. 

 

Oh, he is a very wonderful young man. We love having him live with us. We are taking very good care of him and teaching him every good thing. We are honored that you entrusted his care to us, and will be forever grateful to you.  We will continue to give him the best that our family and our home have to offer, so that your trust will not be betrayed.

 

 

 

With much affection,

Shurleen Souza

 

PS Enclosed is $--.--.  We would so much like it if you could use the money to as needed to write us a letter and let us and Solomon know how you are doing and how his grandparents are doing.  We would also like it very much if you could tell us stories of Solomon when he was young and living in Liberia and share with us what kind of little boy he was.

 

We will understand if the money cannot be used to help you communicate with us and if you must use it for other things.

 

If you can write to us, please take the letter to the orphanage where Solomon was adopted from, and leave it with Sadie. She will make sure that the next person that goes to the United States takes the letter with them, and they will post it for you when they get here.

 

You can write to us in care of the adoption agency. The address follows.