Category
Of course it has nothing to do with nationality, but that is what Sarah perceived. She was too inexperienced to understand her statement as judgmental, nationalistic, politically incorrect, or anything other than…
Dear God, please forgive my daughters’ first mother. I know that isn’t what I used to ask from you. I know I said I wanted her to burn in hell. I know…
We adopted my oldest daughter from Russia when she was fifteen. She’s twenty-three now and I marvel at how far she has come. Emily has intellectual disabilities but she has learned to…
My wife’s father was a notorious sex felon. She left her first family at fifteen and entered the foster system where the form of abuse changed without stopping. She could relate to…
I often get messages from concerned parents who want to know if they are a bad mom or dad. Because of the type of writing I do, most of these queries come…
“My six-year-old daughter has Reactive Attachment Disorder. Help me, please! I can’t take it anymore!” My heart went out as it always does when I read pleas like this one, typed in a…
Last week my family and I drove to San Diego to watch the U.S. Marine boot camp graduation for my son. I didn’t realize I would be learning a life lesson from…
The outside of our current home is not nearly as impressive as the feelings were inside the most humble place our family has ever lived. Neither Amy nor I came from money.…
Teaching kids responsibility: My grandpa, Merlin D. Simmons, picking seed peas on the family farm with his father, uncle, siblings and cousins. Circa 1920 My grandpa thought teaching kids responsibility was easy. In his…
Our International Family An international family, like ours, needs to consider how to turn differences into strengths rather than allowing them to be weaknesses. As we prepared to bring our first…
We need to find homes for orphans to go home to. Alright, maybe “orphans” is the wrong word. Heaven knows that word has been brutalized for monetary purposes. There are “children of…
I first learned to cope with death as I walked away from a Russian orphanage with my new daughter, shrieking in my arms. Of all the places I could have been when the door…