A passion for the plight of orphans has gripped my core since the first time I read the biography of George Muller.
I was eight years old.
His story of faith and his dedication to rescuing children continues to inspire me.
That book sparked an unwavering, lifelong desire to adopt.
To make a difference with my life.
To stand up, to protect, to speak on behalf of children in need worldwide.
My heart is continually broken over the plight of children left without parents, whether by death, abandonment or poverty. Many of the world’s orphans still have parents who, in desperation to save their beloved children’s lives, leave them at homes where they will be fed and sheltered.
Let’s do a little math.
UNICEF and global partners define an orphan as a child under 18 years of age who has lost one or both parents to any cause of death. By this definition, there were nearly 140 million orphans globally in 2015, including 61 million in Asia, 52 million in Africa, 10 million in Latin America and the Caribbean, and 7.3 million in Eastern Europe and Central Asia. This large figure represents not only children who have lost both parents, but also those who have lost a father but have a surviving mother or have lost their mother but have a surviving father.
Of the nearly 140 million children classified as orphans, 15.1 million have lost both parents. Evidence clearly shows that the vast majority of orphans are living with a surviving parent grandparent, or other family member. 95 per cent of all orphans are over the age of five.
Although not all children who have lost both parents are available for adoption, let’s use that 15 million number.
2 billion divided by 15 million is 133.
Assuming my math is correct, if roughly one Christian out of every 100 adopted an orphan with no parents, every child would have a home.
*Identifying as a Christian is not a requirement to adopt or love children. I use this limiting description to make a few points.
1. Followers of the Way generally try to do what God wants. Only three items comprise God’s definition of Pure Religion. One of them is taking care of orphaned children. (James 1:27)
2. People who say they love Jesus for real should be willing to follow His example of sacrifice for others. Not everyone can adopt or foster, but we can all do SOMEthing to help current orphans—or to prevent a child from becoming one.
3. If a relatively small population (one Christian out of 14) stepped up to help in some way, EVERY ONE of those 140 million children would have what they need.
You’ve possibly already seen those statistics. A topic less discussed is how to prevent a child from becoming an orphan in the first place.
I’ll chat with you about that option soon. For now, feel free to add your opinion below.
Just a little follow-up to Testing, Testing, 1-2-3:
After days of angst
Hours of horror
A sleepless night and
Billions of butterflies in both our stomachs
I found her on the bleachers, sitting next to a new friend.
“It wasn’t as bad as I expected. I think I did okay.”
I think I did okay, too.
Tommorow, she tests for…
Here we go again…
This week, the girl participates in her first annual testing session since we’ve been homeschooling.
It is less a test of her abilities and more a measure of my prowess as a teacher.
I’m a bit nervous. Possibly more than she is.
I actually had trouble sleeping, which is not unusual, but I don’t usually worry myself awake. Most nights, my brain spins stories or posts destined to never see an audience because I fell asleep halfway through.
Before we adopted, I didn’t understand when my friends bemoaned their children’s test anxiety. You’ve heard the phrase “pulling out my hair” in frustration…I’d never seen it in action until one of our little friends showed up with no eyebrows. He was anxious about testing and pulled them out, bit by bit. (There’s a disorder called trichotillomania, but they ruled that out and said it was just anxiety.)
I’ve always loved school and am a geek-tacular stay-up-all-night-crammer. My test grades were rarely less than stellar. (Not bragging—just explaining why I didn’t understand how tests might be scary. I just saw them as a challenge.)
Might not remember any of the material a week later, but as long as my grades were high, everyone seemed happy.
None of my peers ever talked about test-taking anxiety. On occasion, someone admitted being nervous about passing a certain test or achieving a certain grade, but no one was pulling out their eyelashes.
When my friends discussed their children’s test-taking anxiety , I thought it was hyperbole.
And then we adopted our kids.
The boy has no such thing as test-taking anxiety, mostly because he doesn’t care.
He likes good grades, mostly due to sibling competition. He doesn’t like it if his sister’s grades are higher than his, but he has an innate ability to both put in minimum effort and get fairly decent grades. In general, he displays an incredible lack of concern about school (the exception: history studies…the one time he has the legitimate ability to learn about war in a setting in which discussing weapons is taboo).
Our girl, on the other hand, wants to “get everything right the first time” and doesn’t understand why memorizing information requires so much effort on her part.
She should be able to assimilate it by osmosis, of course.
I’ve tried to help her understand that very few people can view text once and remember everything they need to know, but I am—thus far—unsuccessful.
Her expectation of perfection frustrates her. It often trips her up during testing, because the moment she sees a question she doesn’t know, she starts freaking out. She doesn’t necessarily have any external physical reaction, but she begins making mistakes and overlooking obvious answers.
Any information she might have known flies away like pigeons from a coop.
To prepare her for the upcoming annual test, I gave her a practice test 3 grade levels below her own. I thought it would bolster her confidence.
Instead, she stumbled over one question and spiraled from there. She ended up answering one-third of the answers incorrectly.
She KNEW all of the information.
I asked her the questions verbally and she answered all answers with 100% success.
But put that paper in front of her, and she freezes up.
Hoping to alleviate her fear, I explained the test doesn’t matter. The results are less about what she knows and more about highlighting anything I still need to teach to keep her on par with her peers. (Or, if I have my way, to get her ahead of her peers…but I don’t say this. No pressure. We’re still catching up. But I tell you, this kid is brilliant.)
I keep telling her I don’t know of anyone who takes standardized tests for a living.
None of it seems to sink in.
I am a bit concerned that the test results won’t be accurate because she may miss answers she truly knows after confronting a difficult question.
I’m fighting my own version of test anxiety,.
I want her to do well for her own sake. I want to show her that she can do well on a test. I’m hoping to help her overcome the stress induced by the public school system yearly testing.
I’m not on a witch hunt and don’t have anything against public schools but they put so much pressure on the kids with constant drilling, remedial groups before and after school, prizes for doing well and promises of ice cream for those who participated well in prep exercises.
One mother opted for her child not to take the test, which is allowed, and the school tried to fight her. Her daughter is extremely smart and would have done very well on the test, reflecting positively on the school and raising their scores.
I didn’t even know skipping the exam was an option until it was too late.
Because they drilled the importance of testing into my daughter, her already perfectionist personality can’t handle an error. Once she knows question is incorrect, it’s over.
I’m praying she does well, but to be honest, I have personally seen her growth this year and found that she is much smarter then they gave her credit for.
She just needed to hear things in a different way. Sometimes I have to explain things more than once, but once she gets it, she gets it.
I’d like to instill in her that the point of school is not to get good grades but to learn the information we need to be able to do well in life and to interact with others in a positive way.
Math is important. Most of us will never use trigonometry, but basic math, algebra, and geometry are all important for most careers.
Language is one of the most important subjects. You might be an amazing genius, but if you can’t communicate your ideas, no one will care.
History is her favorite subject and I’m so thankful for this. Learning about history and taking it to heart gives us compassion for others, helps us recognize dictators before they take over, and allows us to see the mistakes we as people have made in order to avoid repeating them.
Hubby and I also want to give our kids a love of science. Curiosity and willingness to problem-solve are key to lifelong learning and success.
We were fortunate to find a fabulous art class this year, in which she studies some of the masters and has an opportunity to try to paint in his or her style. She likes to sketch and color but has never shown much interest in painting until now. She’s very talented.
I was in grad school by the time I realized the point of school was not to cram one’s way to the highest grade possible, but to ingest and comprehend the greatest amount of information to then translate into real-life application.
Creativity, curiosity, problem-solving ability, and the knowledge that you can find the answer to pretty much any question if you look hard enough: this is what I want my daughter to learn.
Testing this week won’t even affect her by next week. The true test will be life.
I’m thankful for the opportunity to find out what she has learned and what she still needs to know to keep up with her age group…or surpass them.
But I know that this test will not measure her ability to live a happy, successful life.
For that, we will have to rely on the test of time.
I’ve been trying to catch up on writing about the craziness in our life. Let’s not leave out the good craziness.
The kids started begging me to homeschool them almost as soon as they came to live with us. They spent some time in a foster home with homeschoolers, which prompted the begging.
That particular household embraced the philosophy that many of the minutes during a public school day are wasted.
I agree with the logic.
Kids in private school also deal with transitions and lost moments, but in a large public system, the problem is exponentially larger. Time is wasted in transitions, in moving between classrooms, waiting for everyone to get a drink of water at the fountain, waiting for everyone to finish toileting, waiting for everyone to finish lunch, waiting, waiting…
And waiting for at least 80 percent of the class to catch on to ideas.
Kids who “get it” more quickly must wait, bored…and even worse, the child who might understand with some one-on-one attention is left further and further behind.
At least in the U.S., I don’t see a viable solution within the public school system (especially for the child who misses the first step and struggles to climb the second step as his classmates sprint up steps four, five and six).
It’s not a “bad” system for most kids. It’s the best possible education for a grand spectrum of children, targeting the widest possible swath of average kids.
I agree that one-on-one attention can be better, but I didn’t particularly agree with the homeschooling philosophy of the family with whom they stayed.
The mother informed me that her kids (spanning elementary, middle and high school grades) were almost always finished with school in two hours per day. I imagine this could be possible for the lower grades, but homeschool done well in upper grades can’t be finished in a couple hours per day.
I’m no inexperienced snob…our family was one of the first in our area to school children at home (although each of us spent at least two years in either public or private school as well). At that time, the choice to homeschool was unpopular with the school system, county officials and even our church. My mom ensured our education was stellar—and it definitely took more than two hours per day.
All that in a nutshell: Public school wastes tons of time and leaves slower children behind. Homeschool can be a great alternative IF—and only if—done properly.
Sorry, I’m soapboxing. I digress.
Because of their need to learn how to integrate with society, we agreed with counselors and school administration that public school was the best beginning solution for our two.
However, Hubby and I promised them we’d consider home school when they successfully completed elementary school.
Fifth grade finished last year. We decided to take the plunge.
The school had me convinced that our girl required special needs support in math and reading. I had mild concerns about my ability to give her what she needs, but reasoned that I could learn anything necessary to help her.
We purchased the 5th grade math curriculum and completed it over the summer. The ease with which she moved through the program surprised me, but we weren’t studying other subjects.
When we began grade 6 in September, I expected she’d struggle. In some ways, this was true; if she considered a concept difficult, she gave up easily. We worked together and she began to realize that difficult math problems became easier once she learned the strategy. As long as she followed the strategy we put in place, she had almost no trouble.
Finally, I convinced her that the size of the number wasn’t an issue as long as she followed the math strategy (by requiring her to complete a long division problem involving a ten-digit number).
She stopped hating math.
Her handwriting improved.
She slowed her reading, decoding instead of skipping unknown words.
Quoting The Help, I informed Hubby that he is smart, kind and important.
Grinning wildly, she corrected my grammar.
She loves finding facts I don’t already know.
She is bright. She is talented. She is fabulous.
Although we wish he didn’t have to be at the treatment center, our son’s absence has allowed me to spend twice as much time with our daughter, helping her finally catch up academically (due in part to their time in foster care, she’s two years behind).
In December, we completed the core subjects for grade 6. We started grade 7 in January. As long as we stay on task, we should be able to complete 7th by June.
School is cool.