May I Have this Dance?

Dear Mia,

It's been a great day. I'm not saying they all haven't been great, because they have been, but as in all things, some days are better than others. To put it simply: it isn't always easy learning how to live with another person. 

When I do premarital counseling, I will occasionally talk about toothpaste caps and toilet seats. Not that those two things have a whole lot of anything to do with anything, but when you have lived your whole life doing something one way, and someone else comes along and needs you to do it another way, we can find ourselves stepping on others toes. Mommy and I have experienced some of that with you this week. You have three years of life experience mommy and I cannot comprehend; and honestly, some of that is probably a good thing. Now don't misunderstand me, your past is critically important to us, but we know there are some hard parts to it and now we have an opportunity to learn all new rhythms. Together. 

Take for example, language. When your brother was your age, we had certain expectations for how he was to communicate with us. The challenge for you is up until the last six days, you have only known Chinese. I cannot imagine how tough it must have been in the grocery store today when I was talking to you in English, but all around you heard words, sounds, and phrases that were so much more familiar. And comfortable. I cannot blame you for getting a bit out of sorts and "not using your words" since you have just begun to hear them. And wanting to grab things of the shelves. And wanting to yell at me when I wouldn't let you. And then yelling at everyone else to let them know that I wouldn't let you. That was a real powerful moment in our learning the rhythm for how to live together. 

For years, I knew that human beings have what we call the "fight or flight" mechanism. That instinct is something over which we have practically no control. What it tells us is when we are confronted with a stressful stimulus, we will either fight back or fly away from it. When your brother would meltdown on us in a store, I would fight it, to let him know we would not tolerate that kind of behavior. And it worked, because he is a model patron these days. 

While training for your adoption, I learned something new that can be particularly true for children that come from hard places. Instead of just fight or flight, there is also the propensity to "freeze." And all of a sudden, so much more makes sense. I have observed you "freezing" when you hear an unfamiliar noise. I have observed you freezing when touching an unfamiliar surface. I have observed you freezing in large crowds. That's what made the situation in the grocery store today so much more peculiar. You didn't freeze. You didn't try to run away or hide in my shoulder. You wanted to fight. And you wanted to fight hard. And you were determined to win. 

Your "fight, flight, or freeze" mechanism then triggered mine. What were we going to do? Have it out in the middle of the Aeon Grocery store? Were we going to see who could yell the loudest? Or hit the hardest? Or pull the most stock from the shelves? I'm pretty sure with my advantages in size, strength, and stamina, I could win that battle. But Mia, it was not one I wanted to fight. Especially not with you. Not this soon. Not now while we're trying to learn each other's rhythms. But you could not win it either. Was it an impasse? I think not. So what were we to do? 

Dance. 

That's right, we danced. A waltz to be exact. I sang the theme from Disney's "Sleeping Beauty" loudly enough for people right around us to hear me sing, and we waltzed. We waltzed up one aisle and down another. We bobbed and weaved amongst the crowd of people saying things I'm probably pretty glad I could not understand. People were staring, but you were laughing. And not just any old laugh, but a joy-filled cackle with a grin from ear to ear. In that moment in time, the world just kept on spinning while the two of us danced and I sang to you. What started as a battle of wills became a memory I will never forget. Ever. 

Our fight was finished before it really even began. Some might see it as a draw, but clearly it was a win-win-win. Aeon Grocery remained in tact. You did, too, as a matter of fact. You weren't able to go on the Incredible Hulk-like rampage you imagined, but you found peace in a moment spinning around with your daddy. Sure, I lost a little bit of dignity in a culture that places an extremely high value on it, but we emerged from the store with both of our hearts in tact, so to me, that is victory. And considering the rhythms we are both fighting to establish, I am overjoyed to be known as that crazy American who danced through the aisles of the busy grocery store with his daughter...a title without modifiers or qualifiers. 

There is a story in the Bible that I love. King David won a victory and recovered the Ark of the Covenant, and when they returned to town, a giant party was thrown. There were people everywhere. The sights, the sounds, the whole experience must have been chaotically beautiful. To celebrate and worship God, David danced. And he danced. And he danced. He danced so hard his clothes fell off, and he was told it was undignified for a king to behave that way in front of the people. What I love, though, is David's response: in the aftermath of the battle, if celebrating with and for God in such a way made him undignified, he would get even more undignified. That is how important the battle and the gift of God's presence was to him. Though my Mickey Mouse shirt remain firmly affixed, I think I know a little bit about how David felt. 

You are an amazing gift, Mia, an amazing one. And as we learn new rhythms in our family, I am sure there will be times when we will have to decide how we will proceed. Will we duke it out? Will one of us run away? Or will we stand there eye-to-eye and wonder (similarly to how we have a couple times already) what to do next? There will undoubtedly be other people around. I am sure those times might get a bit noisy, too. But there is one thing I hope you will never forget: even though I am not a great dancer, I am willing to look quite undignified in my quest to find our rhythm as we learn to live together. Now and forever. 

Navigating the ups and downs of life. 

Weaving through the crowds of curious and condescending onlookers.

And dancing the whole way through, thanks to the gift and presence of God that you represent in my life. 

So next time we have one of those moments — and who knows, it might happen as soon as this blog is posted — may we both remember five simple words...

May I have this dance?

Love, 

Dad

You've Got Me? Whose Got You?

Dear Mia,

Today is a big day for you! In just a few hours, we will pack up, head to the Wuhan airport, and fly to Guangazho, China, where we will have a couple appointments at the U.S. Consulate and finalize your adoption!

Our week in Wuhan is one we will never forget. I'm sure between your age and the stress of it all, you probably won't remember much; hence another reason for this "Mia's Place" page, to help us document our time together from the very beginning. From Gotcha Day on Monday, to breakfast this morning, we have gotten to know you a little better each day. 

You are a priceless jewel, Mia, you really are. You have a precious smile, an infectious laugh, and an uncanny ability to capture the eye of people around you. And despite all you have been through in your young life, you are showing unmistakable signs that you are trusting your mommy and daddy to care for you. You want us both around all the time. When we are eating. When we are playing. When we are just having quiet time in the room. 

Something special to me happened yesterday. We went to the Yellow Crane Pagoda and saw some very beautiful architecture and breath taking views of Wuhan. I took lots of pictures. All of us were able to go to the top floor of the pagoda in an elevator (we had to tell the attendant you had surgery, otherwise we would have had to carry you the 9 flights of stairs to the top). You and mommy rode the elevator back down to the ground level and I took the stairs so I could see the rest of the sights. 

We weren't separated for more than 10 minutes, but when I got back to you, big tears were streaming down your face and you lunged for me. I swept you up in my arms and you laid your head on my shoulder in an attempt to convey your relief. I whispered in your ear that daddy was back and daddy will always be there for you. We finished touring the grounds of the pagoda with you in my arms...content...feeling safe...where you belong. 

In those moments, I was taken back to Gotcha Day when I got to see and hold you for the first time. None of us were really sure what to do, but I knew one thing: we had you. And you had us. 

Something that you probably will not remember is what I was wearing that day. The pictures will show I was wearing khakis and a navy golf shirt, but I had on an undershirt, too. A royal blue one. A kind of shirt that is a bit of tradition. 

When your brother was born, your Big Nannie bought me a Superman tee shirt to wear at the hospital. I did. And in fact, I still wear it everyday on his birthday. 

Since I wasn't there the day you were born, I wasn't able to wear a Superman shirt in your honor. But for Christmas this past year – the same day China said we could bring you into our family – your Little Nanny gave me a Superman shirt to wear for your Gotcha Day. That is the blue undershirt I am wearing in your Gotcha Day pictures. 

In the original Superman movie, there is this wonderful scene where Superman reveals himself to the world. There is a helicopter accident and Lois Lane falls toward the ground. Superman leaps into the sky to save Lois and keep the helicopter from falling to the ground. In that scene, as Superman catches Lois Lane, he says, "Don't worry miss, I've got you." With incredulity she asks, "You've got me, whose got you?" I love that scene!

The day after Gotcha Day, as my shirt was sitting on the bed in our room, Tiffany got a glimpse of something you were trying to do. You had gotten that shirt and tried putting it on yourself. You can't deny it. I have the pictures to prove it. Immediately, I thought of the scene in that Superman movie: "You've got me? Whose got you?"

I have you, Mia. Mommy has you. So does Ethan and the rest of your family. And you know what? You have them, too. But that's not all, because God has all of us. God has orchestrated this entire journey to give you a family...a home...your place. And sure, it's going to take us some time to get to know each other better, and it's going to take some time to learn how to live together. There will be some tough days and some challenges. But there's one thing I want you to always remember: I've got you. You've got me. And God has all of us. 

I've been to Wuhan to claim you. I have the tee shirt to prove it...the same one I'll wear every August 24th from here on out. And as we fly on to Guangzhou to make it all official, I'll be right there to hold you so you know you're not alone, carry you when you can't take another step, calm you when you get scared, soothe you when you get sad, and to remind you that even though I'm no superman, I believe that the real hero of this story holds me as I hold you. Our Father in Heaven. God Almighty. 

So don't worry, Mia. I've got you. And if you need to be reassured of who has me? Well you do, of course; but so does the One who led your mommy and me to you. He'll be taking flight with us today as we continue this journey to bring you to your place. 

Love,

Dad

We Are Yours

Dear Mia, 

The sun is rising in Wuhan, and it is rising on a new day for all of us. You are still sound asleep, but in a little bit, you will wake up to something you have never known: a mommy and daddy. 

Several months ago I was awakened by a dream of what your Gotcha Day would be like. We were waiting in a room and in you walked, very timidly. Mommy knelt down, took you in her arms, and said in her most loving mommy voice — a voice you will get to know very well — "We are yours."

Now it really didn't happen that way at all. Our driver was expecting traffic, so we left at 2:15pm for our 3pm appointment. We got there very early and even the staff was still out to lunch. We were waiting outside in the lobby when we heard the elevator doors open, and in you came, being held by one of your nannies. The nanny handed you to our guide, Jeffrey, and they all started telling you in Chinese that we were your mama and papa. After a few moments, Jeffrey handed you to your mommy. There was no orchestral soundtrack; no poetic words spoken; only the sound of anxious heartbeats wondering what was to be next. 

We finished the work we had to do there at the office, had plenty of pictures taken, and we were off for the next phase of our adventure together. At first you were timid, but we tried something we learned in our adoption training and gave you a snack. You loooove banana puffs! After mommy and I each had a chance to give you some puffs, we saw the smile emerge that melted our hearts all that time ago. 

You were only told the day before that you had a new mama and papa and were going to a new family. We were told they weren't even sure how much you comprehended. Who knows what was running through your mind when you saw us? But I know what was running through mine: we are yours. 

Sure, we haven't signed all the forms yet, and we haven't taken our oath, but those are legalities and formalities we will gladly do as the next two weeks unfold. In the meantime, you can know that mommy and I are trying our ever living best to show you that you belong, that you are loved, that you can trust us, and yes, we are yours. You have been in our hearts since we saw those pictures, and even more so when we got the letter generated on Christmas

Day that we could claim you as our own. That was an astounding gift!

I have to admit, I hardly slept last night. I got up many many times to look in your crib to make sure you were there, sleeping, comfortable, and secure. And you slept well. In fact, you still are. It makes me wonder what you would dream about on your first night in your new family. Are you dreaming about what was? Are you dreaming about what will be? A combination of the two? Neither? 

Like I said, I hardly slept a bit last night, so I can't say I recall any dreams I might have had. But that's ok. Wanna know why? It's because I've been dreaming about this time infinitely longer that your 3-year-old frame of reference can fathom. 

She is your mama. 

I am your papa. 

We are yours.

Visit "Mia's Place" on Facebook

Today is GOTCHA DAY for Mia Noelle, and we are so appreciative for all the love, support, and prayers that have gotten us this far! We will post pictures, videos, and updates on our "Mia's Place" page as we are able, so if you haven't *LIKED* it yet, please do so (click here for the page)! And bear with us, because we'll be busy and the Internet connection is spotty at best.

Know how much we appreciate your walking this journey with us as we embark on the next phase of this life-changing adventure. And PLEASE, remember Ethan and the rest of our family at home in your prayers, too.

It's Gotcha Day!

Dear Mia,

It's Gotcha Day, and about 3 hours until we are to meet you. Mommy and I actually slept pretty well last night, all considering. We got up, had a nice breakfast at the hotel, and when we got back, housekeeping had placed the crib where you'll be sleeping while we're here. And guess what, it's a MICKEY MOUSE crib!!! 

In a strange way, Disney has played a major role in our decision and follow-through in this process. Every time we go, we see many families that look like ours will, and our hearts swell. Then last January (2014), your Uncle Greg and Aunt Jenn went to Disney with us, thanks to a generous gift from one of my favorite people, Jubal. It was then, while visiting the China pavilion at Epcot, that we said, "yes."

We occasionally get teased about how much we love Disney, but it is one of those things that our family enjoys doing together. We love getting away and being in a world of creativity, imagination, and fun. For us, it isn't about silly rides and overpriced food or souvenirs, but a time for us to be able to get away from the high demands of the ministry and be family. We can't wait to share that experience with you...as family!

Before we can do that, though, we have a lot to share with you. Yes, it will be quite a while before you're ready for a trip to Disney World, but that's ok, because we have plenty of Disney stuff for you as we begin sharing our lives together. And in a strange way, it will begin in a Mickey Mouse crib placed next to our bed in a hotel room in Wuhan, China. 

Mommy and I are in that room right this minute waiting for the time to come meet you. Mommy is ironing clothes. I am working on my iPad, journaling about this experience to chronicle it for you and our whole family. We are both listening to some of our favorite worship music as the prayers of hundreds, if not thousands, of people clear across the globe are being directed our way. I am even aware that some of our dearest friends will be waking up around 3am at home in order to be in prayer for our union. That's how much our family is loved and your place in it is cherished. 

And right now, my dear Mia, you are in a car making your way from the city where you spent the first three years of your life to the city where we are anxiously and eagerly awaiting our union. You probably have no idea whatsoever about what is about to transpire, but that's ok. Mommy and I have been well trained, and we are ready to greet you and begin working to establish the trust that will be essential for building the bonds that will carry us through the rest of our lives here on earth and into eternity. 

As your journey to Wuhan will end one chapter of your life, it is also the beginning of a brand new one that we all pray will be filled with fun, creativity, imagination, hope, and faith. And it will start in a small hotel room, some 8,000 miles away from home, appointed with a Mickey Mouse crib. It might be hard for you to rest for a while, and it might be even harder waking up with people who you quite possibly have never seen before, but let me assure you of this — mommy and I are right here, and we will be, to let you know that you have a place...a place in this room, a place in our home, a place in our family, a place in our hearts, and a place in eternity. 

God made that place, and He made that place just for you. So may all the wonder, creativity, imagination, love, and fun begin when you are ready. We are here to walk you through it and remind you of this eternal truth: you have a place. 

Love, 

Dad

One More Day

Dear Mia,
I’m sitting in our hotel room in Wuhan, China, just a little more than twenty-four-hours before we are to meet you for the very first time. As I sit and reflect, one word comes to mind to summarize this whole experience: surreal. Your mommy and I keep looking at each other and asking, “Can you believe we’re doing this?” We are still struggling to put any kind of logical and tidy answer to it, but the best we can come up with is, love.

I mentioned before that a friend of mine once said, “adoption begins with tragedy.” For us, the tragedy was never being able to have another child after your brother was born more than thirteen years ago. We had a few close calls, but they all ended in heartbreak. So when we began our journey to you, we started out wanting something for ourselves; but somewhere along the way, we realized it was all about you and our call to the task of defending the fatherless (Isaiah 1:17). I’m not sure it was necessarily a conscious decision, or even exactly when it happened, but it was one where our focus shifted from us onto you, and with it, our resolve. It's hard to explain, but love did that. And love does that still.

There are so many thoughts and nuggets swirling around in my noggin right now, and some of them will make their way to this page (which the goal all along was for you in time to be able to see and feel what we were going through on our way to you). But suffice it to say, throughout this twenty-month process, it quit being about us and started being about you, or more specifically, the call of God in our hearts to care for you and give you a family. With all the children in the world, I can't say we would do this for just any ole child; it's about one: you. Otherwise, somewhere along the way with the time, expense, intrusion, sacrifice, criticism, and sheer magnitude that this process involves, we would have just bought Disney passes and visit the China pavilion in Epcot to think about what could have been.

But here we are, on the other side of the world, away from virtually all we know and love, for the sake of a little girl we have only seen in a grand total of six pictures and about four minutes of video. That last part seems to strike many people as odd, but to us, it is just a detail in a much broader story.

The time we got the first call from our case worker about you, to the time when you will be in our arms, will span about nine-months, or the length of a typical human gestation. With Ethan and the other babies we had, we kept ultrasound pictures on the fridge and began wondering, dreaming and hoping for the life that was to come. Even though you are now three-years-old, we still kept your picture on our fridge and thought about the wonder, dreams, and hope for your life. We know, we know, we must keep our expectations managed, but God brought us to you, no doubt about it. And since mommy and I are convinced of that, we feel we are living out a shred of God’s promise that is also contained in Lifeline Children’s Services’ mission statement: to give you a hope and a future (Jeremiah 29:11). Even though that hope did not grow physically in our bodies, it does grow spiritually in our hearts. Now, when we see you come through the door tomorrow to enter our world, a new birth will occur and none of us will ever be the same. None of us. Ever.

So while we wait in the quiet for just one more day, let me tell you that there is more. There is a powerful draw and call to this place that strangely reminds your mommy and me of our very own beginning together. It’s something that defies all logic and reason. The list of people for whom we would have embarked upon such a journey is frighteningly short, yet here we are. And while it is bewildering and more than a bit scary, it feels so very right. We have indeed stepped outside of our comfort zone and into the realm of the unknown where Jesus is, and He is holding out His hand, waiting to join our story with yours.

Since July 29, 2012, the little girl who has never heard the name our world has known you by these past nine months is about share your life with us, even with all its ups and downs. Now you have an army of family, friends, and supporters fighting to give you a place, led by your mom and dad. That child is you, Mia. You have your place. And thanks to the transformative power of heeding God's call, it seems mommy and I have ours, too.

I know that probably comes across as awful naive and romantic, and sure, part of it is. But the closest I can put my finger on it is strangely similar to an amalgamation of my wedding and ordination vows: I promise to give all that I am and all that I have, for better or for worse, to go where I am sent, to honor God and the people He has placed in my life. In giving myself to that ongoing task, I have found a Mark — and a Tiffany, for that matter — that I never before knew. And I know that there are more challenges for us ahead, but I am sure a supernatural perseverance will be there to meet us and walk us through it. For as we made our journey across the world, we kept thinking, planning, and praying for how we will make the return journey home, with you, to your place. With your parents. With your brother. With your pets. With your very own room. With your very own bed. With your very own toys. With your very own clothes. With your very own family of grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and a larger family drawn together not just by blood, but by Spirit and faith.

As we wait the next twenty-something hours after the last twenty-something months, I want to return to where it all started…with mommy and me. We began wanting to do this for ourselves, but now that we have quite literally invested our blood, sweat, tears, and money, we find we are doing this for God, the One who brought us to you — the subject in this chapter of our family’s story. So I close this reflection with a teaching from Jesus (who I cannot wait to introduce you to!) that is gaining an all new appreciation in my life right now: “If you try to hang on to your life, you will lose it. But if you give up your life for my sake, you will save it.” (Matthew 16:25, NLT)

Love,
Dad

One. Forever.

It has been 565 days. 565! 565 days ago, Tiffany and I officially submitted our application to adopt a little girl from China; and even then, it was a journey eleven years in the making. It's been a long road to this point, but within hours of you reading this, Tiffany and I will board a plane to fly the 7,818 miles to Wuhan, China, the city where we will be united with Mia for the very first time. 

It has been 274 days. 274! 274 days ago, Tiffany and I got the referral on the little girl who would come to be known as Mia. This came after a time I felt the urge to pray, just before answering a call from our case worker about a little girl who needed a forever family. While I was praying, our case worker saw Mia's picture and thought of us. It is true. All of it. Next Monday, the face that we have only seen in pictures will be nose-to-nose to us. We will be hers. She will be ours. 

It has been 237 days. 237! 237 days ago, China generated a letter granting us preliminary approval to adopt this little girl. It was Christmas Day, and Mia received her middle name: Noelle. 

It's been 64 days. 64! 64 days ago we got our letter of acceptance to officially adopt Mia Noelle. 4 lives changed. Forever.

It's been 13 days. 13! 13 days ago we got our travel approval to fly to China to go get Mia. The journey wasn't quite finished, because we still had some things yet to be scheduled, but we were close. 

It's been 9 days. 9! 9 days ago we got the date for when we would have our appointment at the U.S. Consulate in Guangzhou, China to set in motion the events that will make Mia not only a Jordan, but a U.S. citizen. Forever. 

It's been 8 days. 8! 8 days ago we booked our travel package and the final countdown commenced. The time had come. All that separated us from Mia was one more week...one more week...until we could get to where we wanted to be some 20 months ago. 

And now we look forward. 

5 more days. 5! Only 5 more days until the little face we saw in those pictures every day for 9 months will be nose-to-nose to ours. 

6 more days. 6! Only 6 more days until we sign the paperwork to say we will be her forever family. 

13 more days. 13! Only 13 more days until we take the oath that will set in motion the events that will result in Mia not only being a Jordan, but an American. Forever. 

16 more days. 16! Only 16 more days until we board a plan that will carry us the 8002 miles to bring us back into the United States. When that plane lands at JFK in New York, Mia will be a Jordan and an American. Then it's on to Atlanta where a whole new journey begins. 

581 days. More than 17,000 miles. 1 little girl. 1 family. An eternity of difference. 

It's been a long journey that at times has been hopeless and filled with hope. Seeming to last forever and flying by. And here we are. In just a matter of days, we will be able to fulfill our mission to bring Mia home and then begin the long and intentional process of helping her assimilate into our family and culture. It won't always be easy; in fact, there are times that it will be tough and heartbreaking. As a friend of mine who adopted once said, "Adoption begins with tragedy." But there's something to be said about the love of God. God's love brings hope out of the hopelessness that invades our lives. Throughout all the difficulties, Tiffany and I know it would not be possible without the love and support of our friends, our families, and our precious church. 

So now we're down to 1. 1! Only one more day until we board the plane. Though it is just the two of us that will buckle up, there will be hundreds if not thousands of people who will embark on that journey with us. From buying t-shirts and crafts, to giving monetary gifts, running miles, to praying us through this process full of ups and downs, so many people and gestures of love will board that plane with us. All for one little girl, abandoned as a newborn in July of 2012, who has never known a mom and dad, yet now has a huge and loving family. 

There is so much more to say, but I have bags to pack and a plane to board. I have an ocean to cross and a daughter to claim. And while I do, I will remember and celebrate the God who claimed me as His own, welcoming me into His forever family. I will carry with me the love and grace of my own forever family that has helped us get to this point in our lives. And I will look forward to being back together with you so we can celebrate what God has done in all of our lives. But until then, remember Tiffany and me as we travel; Ethan as he stays behind with his grandparents to stay current with his school work; and Mia as her life is about to change. Forever. 

One little girl, brought into one family, by one great God, who wants for us all to be together. 

One. Forever.

Back to School Survival Kit

Can you believe that the start of a new school year is upon us? By the end of the week, the majority of our students and educators will be back in the school grind. There are so many opportunities for a new school year, but a bunch of challenges as well. That being the case, I thought I'd share this "Back to School Survival Kit" with you, to offer some encouragement as the reading, writing, and arithmetic resumes in earnest:

·       Toothpick: To remind you to pick out the good qualities in others.

ü  Do not judge, or you too will be judged. (Matthew 7:1)

·       Rubber Band: To remind you to be flexible, things might not always to the way you want, but it will work out.

ü  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. (Romans 8:28)

·       Band-Aid: To remind you to heal hurt feelings, yours or someone else's.

ü  Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity. (Colossians 3:12-14)

·       Pencil: To remind you to list your blessings every day.

ü  Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ. (Ephesians 1:3)

·       Eraser: To remind you that everyone makes mistakes and it's okay.

ü  Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you. (Ephesians 4:32)

·       Chewing Gum:  To remind you to stick with it and you can accomplish anything with Jesus.

ü   I can do all this through him who gives me strength. (Philippians 4:13)

·       Mint: To remind you that you are worth a mint to your Heavenly Father.

ü  For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. (John 3:16-17)

·       Candy Hugs: To remind you that everyone needs a hug every day.

ü  Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. (1 John 4:7)

May the items in this “Back to School Survival Kit” be of assistance to you at the start of this new school year, or for your next lesson in the proverbial school of hard knocks.