Ordinary Time

[E] We are operating under the belief that Vietnam was chosen for us. I've always been interested in adoption. After the birth of our second son, I even wrote for information from various adoption agencies. But it wasn't until three babies later tha we seriously began pursuing adoption. I was done being pregnant, but we were not done having children. We were drawn to Asia, but most Asian countries limit the sizes of adopting families, and we already had too many children, according to their limits. Vietnam, though, had slightly higher family size limits that did not exclude us. But Vietnam had also been closed to international adoption for two years. Since our youngest was just a baby, we decided that we had time to wait and see if anything might change. At this point, I prayed. If we had any hope of pursuing adoption along this path, there were some significant hurdles that God would have to help us over. The list was daunting: (1) Vietnam and the US had to sign a Memo of Unde

[E] A parent's life is often buried in the ordinary. Fixing meals, doing laundry, picking up, buying groceries... the mundane... the repetitive... maintaining the status quo... fighting entropy (which is, of course, destined to win). Sometimes it seems as if the only break in the routine involves leakage--either a child's or a machine's. (Note: The only leakage today was from the hypersensitive tear ducts of overtired children. Sleepovers are fine and glorious things, but there's a piper to pay the next day. The children stay up late and the parent gets the hangover.) Why, I ask myself, am I doing this? Can there possibly be meaning or significance in the daily slog? I'm not unintelligent; I have a seminary degree. Surely I could be doing something else to serve the Lord. But I am reminded that not every day is a feast day. In the liturgical calendar, ordinary time names those seasons around the edges of the highest holy days. And ordinary time does not mean dull

We begin in the middle of our wait for Thanh Minh Matthias Curry, who makes eight.