Our journey to Ethiopia, back home, and becoming a family of five
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One Year.
One year.
June 14, 2017. Exactly one year ago from this day Ben and I stood before a judge in Addis Ababa and professed our undying love and devotion to a very small and frightened toddler whom we had only just met the day before. It seemed all at once so impossible and so very simple.


Us with Naomi, just after court. June 14, 2016.
July 1, 2017. One year ago we landed in Jackson Hole with our newest daughter. She was little, timid, and scared. Now only the first descriptor applies, although she has grown nearly 4 inches! A far cry from her former self, she is now expressive, giggly, confident, and has the most hopeless case of FOMO (fear of missing out) I’ve ever seen. She can also be sassy and defiant which I would not have believed could be possible when I first met her. I suppose this is good. We can be assured she is, in fact, a normal 2-year-old in more ways than not.
As for any parent who welcomes a new child, whether it be through birth or adoption, we had no idea what lie in store for us this first year. We had no clue how quickly she would change in both demeanor and personality, how ill-equipped we were to handle her extreme shows of emotion, how to even unpack WHAT the emotions were behind the screaming and crying, or how difficult it would be to teach her how to eat. We (I) obsessed over learning how to care for her hair and skin and may or may not have spent slightly more than a small fortune on products for said care. We also did not anticipate the impact this new daughter of ours would have on our first two children, in ways that were both painstakingly gut-wrenching and joyously heart-bursting. At times it has been beautiful, sweet and silly. But at others it has been challenging, frustrating, and heart-breaking. Ben and I have learned a lot about our own shortcomings and limitations. We have learned the importance of slowing down, spending time, and taking deep breaths. So many deep breaths.
Anniversaries are cause for reflection. To stop and remember what has been and to pause and consider what will be. As I’ve reflected over this past month on the final leg of our adoption journey home (Facebook memories never let you forget, not that I ever want to!), a few important themes have come to mind and I hope you don't mind if I share them here.
This first one, I will warn you, will not give you any warm fuzzies (but please don't leave yet because the warm fuzzies ARE coming). It's a truth that I am ashamed to say I gave very little thought to until this last year. But it very much deserves some attention, and so attention it shall have. The sobering truth I want to share is this: Adoption is ALWAYS born out of brokenness. Families were never intended to be split up and I don't doubt for one second that God’s heart aches over each child, each mother, each father, who finds themselves in such a dire situation as that, no matter what the cause. I imagine Jesus weeping as he held Naomi in those early moments of her life, knowing that she was about to take a drastic detour through no choice of her own. That she would need healing a thousand times over from the deep wounds caused by this separation, wounds whose surfaces we have only begun to scratch. He mourns the loss of her heritage, as she will too, because of the brokenness of this world. The moment I forget the immense importance of this truth, I lose at momming. She needs me to remember this, for always. It’s what keeps my heart tender to her resilient 2-year-old ways (and likely her 3-year-old ways and 4-year-old ways and 16-year-old ways).
Thankfully, Jesus is also in the business of bringing beauty out of ashes.

Enter Pascals.
We are in no way perfect, in case you were wondering. It may have seemed so when we just only had Nina because she is such an easy and awesome kid and she made us look like parenting experts the world over. But I'm sure by now our number 2 and number 3 children have outed us. We are just like everyone else. We fumble through parenting, say things we wish we wouldn't, raise our voices louder than we should and sometimes we (I) have some wine at 5pm because somehow things seem better that way. We are just human and there is absolutely nothing special about us. I don’t know why on this green EARTH God asked us to get this fire in our bellies to adopt. But he did. Long before we were married or even knew each other, and long after we had our first child. It just never went away. So... we said yes. And long story short, here we are. I could share all the ways our parenting has been at best questionable and caused us (me) to seriously consider why in the WORLD we were given any children at ALL because clearly ours will be scarred for life from all our parenting mistakes and will all need therapy.
Enter Grace.
I have several good and dear friends who I text when things are falling apart because I just need them to tell me they have been there too. Like, in the last 30 minutes. It’s a sisterhood of support we all desperately need. To be reminded almost daily that we aren’t alone. One such friend texted me last week after a rough solo evening at home with multiple small children. Let’s just say things didn’t go so well. There may have been a nutritionally unbalanced “meal” served for dinner, followed by a tumultuous bedtime extravaganza of screaming, yelling, and tears. The last part of her text read, “This mama thing is so f***cking hard. Lots of grace lots of room for more grace...”
First, I am so thankful I have friends who are willing to share these raw moments with me. Life is richer when we can be authentic, and when one is brave enough to do it, it gives permission to another to do the same. Second, as I read her text the following morning I looked outside and saw it had rained. I was reminded that, just as the rain washes away the dirt and grime, He washes away the ugliness of our mistakes and failures.
His grace and mercies are new every morning.
More than ever I have needed to rely on this truth this past year. With three small kids in our care, two of them in the toddler stage, one of which is still fairly newly adopted, and one all alone up in the school-age stage, our kids have very different needs unique to only them. Trying to meet all these needs feels exhausting at best, impossible at worst. Knowing that there is grace to cover where I come up short and mercy to erase the ugly moments gives me hope that someday our kids just might turn out ok. And I might too, for that matter.
Ok. Now I'm going to get to the warm fuzzies part! Because there have also been a lot of beauty-from-ashes moments this last year and I think that's what we all really need to hear anyway (especially if you just read/heard/watched the news. Amiright?) This is going to be a sort of hodge-podge, mish-mash, mix-up of silly, fun, sweet, tender and just dear stuff from this last year. Enjoy, and as they say in Ethiopia, Amesegenallo (that’s my best guess at how to spell “thank you” in English) for reading!
First bath ~ first snuggle to sleep ~ “running” through the airport ~ meeting of partners in crime on a luggage cart ~ first swing, joyful giggly delight ~ easy laughter ~ peaceful sleep ~ MY Daddy! ~ first “I love you’s” ~ tight hugs ~ ready kisses ~ copycat emotions ~ so much teething ~ charmer of grandparents, cousins, aunts, and uncles at first sight ~ riding bikes ~ skiing ~ potty training, or something like that ~ will not eat the vegetables, will eat ALL the chicken nuggets ~ CHOICES ~ boundaries ~ safety ~ security ~ silly dancing ~ soulful singing ~ water baby ~ sugar fiend ~ fearless athlete ~ sassy “no’s” ~ determined ~ high on life ~ will not be missing out on ANYTHING, thankyouverymuch ~ conqueror of scabies and mollescum ~ big hair, don’t care ~ sister love that has not come easy, but it has come, praise Jesus ~ knows beyond a shadow of a doubt who Mommy and Daddy are and runs to them with all her hurts and troubles ~ lover of snuggles ~ hater of bugs ~ exuberant in prayer ~ quiet only in sleep ~ new name ~ new family ~ same daughter of the Most High.
We adventured out for our first camping trip in two years this weekend (which I think Ben and I deserve an award for) and as we pulled into the driveway, Naomi yelled out gleefully and with full confidence: “HOME!”
Yes you are, baby girl.

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Light, Hope, and Wine

This is my seventh Christmas as a P-Dub (pastor’s wife). There are many things that are challenging about being married to a pastor at Christmas time.
Especially when you have 3 kids. And two of them are two years old. And you sit in the back with them, alone and 100% outnumbered, because your husband is preaching a good word to the rest of the congregation. In fact, let me take a moment now to apologize to anyone sitting in a 5-person radius at our Christmas Eve service tonight (ok, 18-person radius). Whether it was the shrieks of disappointment at realizing one CANNOT eat the plastic white candle holder, or feeling the sensation that you are on a bus in the jungle as a tiny person attempts a first ascent on the back of your chair, or just frankly getting a little down at the sight of a blonde-haired, brown-eyed, Christmas sweater-clad mini man collapsed in the middle of the aisle, bottom lip protruding so much so that people were required to walk around it….yes to all of this and more do I extend my sincerest apologies.
But, the sweetest moment in all the land for a pastor’s wife is RIGHT. NOW. The children are nestled all snug in their beds. The snow is falling peacefully upon the…new fallen snow that fell earlier today (I’m sure the skiing was sensational. Someday, I will be able to spontaneously go for a ski. Currently it takes an act of Congress and exactly one thousand dollars in childcare for me to be able to do so). Ben is off leading one more candlelit service tonight. The house is clean(ish). Food is prepped for our Christmas feast tomorrow. George Winston holiday is playing on Pandora. My wine glass is full. My Christmas jammies are ON. And, in a rare moment this Advent season, I am sitting quietly and alone by our tree. For you extroverts, that’s an introvert’s DREAM. COME. TRUE.
There’s something magical about Christmas Eve. There always has been for me. The anticipation of what’s to come, the quiet, the feeling that all has been prepared and now we sit silently, restfully, with hopeful hearts.
Last Christmas I was feeling pretty unsettled. We had 2 of our children home where we could hug them, dry their tears, and tend to their needs. But our third child could not have been any further away from us. We received a photo of her 2 days before Christmas, and it about broke my heart. I looked at that photo of her, and the photo I’d just taken of our other two kids by our own Christmas tree. I longed to somehow merge the photos together, wanting everyone to simply be in one place. I said to myself, I want nothing more for Christmas next year than a photo of all three of our children together by our tree.

It may sound trite but as the cliche goes, a picture is worth a thousand words. And in my opinion, just as many realities and emotions, hopes and dreams. For, if I had a photo of all my children together it would mean that my family was truly complete.
I am happy to say that my hope came true, though not without much toil, patience, and angst. Yet I would not trade one moment for that which we now have: 3 beautiful, healthy children and one crazy, loud, continuous circus of Pascal chaos! I don’t share this to gloat or give some kind of picture of a perfect family. We have our daily trials, messes, challenges, and hardships; there is no doubt about that.
But I do share because I want to bring hope. Hope to those who are waiting for something. I can speak from the HEART to this. God shapes us in the midst of our waiting. We become stronger, wiser, more compassionate to our fellow human beings, and all-around better people when we wait for something worth waiting for.
Advent is ALLLLLLLLLL about waiting. Just ask my 7-year-old. I have been told every. single. day. for the last month just exactly how many days there are until Christmas! If you want to stress a mama out, DO THIS.
One of my favorite things about living in Jackson Hole is having a white Christmas ALWAYS. It is magical and nostalgic in all the ways. Because it is so cold here, we have discovered the joy and beauty of making ice lanterns (pictured above). Ice lanterns are created by freezing buckets of water placed outside in the cold. Depending on the temperature, they will freeze properly in anywhere from 12 hours to several days. No matter what, we always have to wait for them to be “finished.” The amount of time we have to wait is unknown. We can predict, based on our knowledge of the weather, forecast, etc. but only time will tell. In fact, I tried to speed it up once by putting a bucket of water in the freezer. All I got was a frozen bucket of solid ice. Lesson learned: ice lanterns grow naturally slow. :)
When they are done, it is a delight. No two are alike. Some have thin walls, some have thick walls, some have cracks which help illuminate the light. Some are opaque, creating a more muted glow. But all are beautiful. We throw a festive bow around them, place a candle inside, and lo and behold, we have a light in the dark!
This light is temporary of course, as the ice lanterns eventually melt. But the light Jesus brings to our lives is a steadfast and everlasting light. As we wait this final night of Christmas Eve, let’s breathe out. Let’s pause. Let’s enjoy the moment between the already and the not yet. And as dawn creeps over our sleepy eyelids in the morning, let us find hope. Hope in the birth of a Savior. Hope in waiting for something worth waiting for.
May you find peace this Christmas!
Oh, and yes, I did get a photo of my three children by our tree, all together, this joyous Christmas Eve. (no children were harmed in this photo session, but all were bribed with suckers)

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!
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Daily Bread
Hey Everyone!
I hadn’t intended to write another blog post for a bit, but something has come into our world recently, and, well. I just can’t wait to share it with you!
As many of you know, adoption is a very expensive endeavor. Finances are a major consideration and unfortunately in many cases, a barrier when it comes to pursuing adoption. We have been so blessed by many people in order to be able to afford these high costs without going completely broke. Certainly brings new meaning to the phrase, “It takes a village to raise a child!”
One cost that we weren’t expecting to be quite so high has been our post-adoption visits and reports, in part due to the fact that our social worker has to travel all the way from the other side of the state to do them! We completed our first visit at 3 months and will need to do another one at 6 months and again at 1 year post-placement. This cost will total over $3000.
Well, miracle of miracles, once again some funding has come through just when we need it. I unexpectedly received a call from Lifesong For Orphans last week, notifying us that we had received a matching grant of $500 via the Wyoming Adoption and Foster Care Alliance. Seriously?? I’m still not entirely sure how this happened, but we sure will take it!
We were awarded a matching grant through Lifesong earlier this year, which helped us greatly as we paid the final fees of the actual adoption and travel costs. We hadn’t expected to receive any further grants, so this is a total surprise gift.
I am constantly blown away at the ways God continues to provide for us in this process on so many levels, but particularly with regard to finances. And, it’s never more than what we need. It’s usually just the right amount for what we need to pay RIGHT NOW.
Our next big cost will be our next post-placement visit in about 2 months. It will be about $1000 and, should we max out our matching grant, that is just the right amount to cover it.
BUT....... it won’t become $1000 without some help! This is a MATCHING GRANT. So, if you feel compelled to help out, or you have a heart for adoption, or you’ve met sweet Saliha and she melts your heart, or you just have a little extra cash laying around that you aren’t sure what to do with, would you consider contributing to our fund? Please click this link to find further instructions. And remember, whatever you contribute will be doubled!
Thanks to each of you in our Village!
Because of the kindness and generosity of all who have helped in countless ways, Saliha has a forever family and our family is forever blessed.
We truly could not make this happen without you.
And thanks be to Jesus for providing once again, our daily bread.

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The Circus is in Town
I just love the Fall, don’t you?

Those vibrant shades of orange, red, and yellow that paint the hillsides, cozy sweaters, chilly trail runs, warm mugs of coffee, and that all-important excuse to put butternut squash and cinnamon in EVERYTHING. The crispness in the air signifies the beginning of something fresh. A new season begins as an old one dissipates into the past.
In many ways, the rhythm and routine that Fall brings is an especially welcome one in the Pascal household this year. We are done living in the uncertain timeline of adoption (if I had a nickel for every time I said, “well, we might be able to do that...unless we are in Ethiopia...) and ready to move into actually living our life as a family of five. Like, in the here and now! It’s happening, folks!
While I could fill this blog (nay, an entire BOOK) about the victories and mountaintop moments we’ve witnessed in the nearly 3 months since we have added Saliha to our family, I would be amiss if I did not share the struggles as well. It’s the struggles that are on my heart tonight. So tonight, Ima be really real witchu.
I’m not gonna lie.
It’s been tough at times.
Many a night ends with me falling into bed, heaving a sigh of defeat, and hoping to sweet Jesus that they will turn out okay despite my inadequate momming.
In my perfect world (which exists only in my mind), my children would always play happily together, everyone would feel like I gave them enough attention, I would have time to exercise, and no one would complain about the food made for them. And of course, my house would always be clean and I would NOT be wearing the same clothes I went to bed in last night at dinner time today.
In reality, there’s a lot of screaming and crying, there’s a lot of kinetic sand, just, everywhere, there’s also a lot of doo-doo (double diaper action at our house), any food prepared here is abysmal to at least 1 in 3 children, and each of our little ones has a hard-wired switch that goes off the moment I THINK about getting up before them. Can a girl just go pee and get a cup of coffee before playing trucks and legos at 6am?
Raising three kids is tougher than I ever thought it would be. Sometimes the best way to describe our house is a circus! Seriously. There are animal noises, it smells funky, and the performers are often dressed in wacky costumes.
We have a unique dynamic with the ages of our kids: seven years old at the oldest, and then 2 toddlers at ages two and a half and one and a half.
Our sweet seven-year-old Nina is a SAINT when it comes to big-sistering. She helps put them to bed and get them up, reads stories to them, helps them eat and get dressed, sets up crafting activities, and exercises the utmost in patience as they awkwardly and slowly learn new skills each day. She delights in their victories with exuberance. Frankly, she puts me to shame. Pictured below: Nina set this up, not me. For reals.

But, she’s seven, folks. She’s a kid and she still needs her mommy and daddy too. She needs to know that she is wholly and dearly loved. That she is a precious child of the Most High. Honestly, it’s a challenge to give her the attention she deserves while making sure the toddlers don’t kill themselves or each other. It’s a challenge that I do not rise to on many a day. And for that I am regretful.

Next there’s Graham. He’s our “special” one. Maybe it’s all the testosterone. Maybe it’s the fact that he was a preemie and he’s still trying to catch up on the extra womb time he missed out on. I really don’t know. He’s my only boy so I don't have much to compare with. This kid can be a hot mess one second, and a sweet, sweet love of a boy the next. Example: on the way to school today he complained of his shoe being too tight. I literally pulled the Swagger Wagon over, took off both his shoes, and triumphantly pulled us back into traffic, thinking I had gone the extra mile. Shrieking is the only noise that was heard the entire way to school. In fact, he did NOT want his other shoe off; only the one that was too tiiiiggggghhhhhttttt!!!
When he isn’t melting because of the shoes or because I cut his sandwich the wrong way or because we couldn’t find a moose on our walk, he is quiet, methodical, and does NOT like to be touched too much. It’s equally adorable and frustrating when he says, “NonononoNONONONO! You’ll not touch mine HAAIIIRRR!” I mean, how can someone so kissable not want me to just squeeeeeeezzze him all day? Honestly, some days he’s just tough to love.
Then sometimes he’s all full of cute like this:

Finally we have Sweet Saliha. This girl charms everyone she meets. I mean, if you don’t drown in those chocolate brown pools that are her eyes, I would question whether you actually looked into them in the first place. She is a bundle of sugar, no doubt. She offers 1000-watt smiles, hugs, and kisses readily and frequently. I love her determination, fueled by her constant desire to keep up with her siblings. She has a fighting spirit, no doubt about that! As she has become more comfortable at our house, though, that spirit has taken a much more, shall we say, physical form. On the one hand, whoah! Hands are for huggin’, not hittin’!
On the other hand the realization hits me HARD, that in the orphanages where she spent her entire life prior to becoming a Pascal, getting what she wanted may have called for some assertion and aggression. While orphanage life is long gone, this is still being manifested in many ways with Saliha and it can be exhausting, frustrating, and just plain difficult. All those adoptive parenting classes and books are coming into full use around here. Showing Saliha that we love her no matter her behavior and that we will never leave her or stop being her family is tougher than it sounds but is the most profound thing we can offer her right now.
Pools of chocolate pictured here:

Once again I find that parenting my own kids helps me understand, in a way I never did before, our Creator’s amazing, constant, steadfast, and unwavering love for me.
Earlier this week I got up early, all prepared to go to an exercise class before work. One I hadn’t been to in SEVERAL months. As luck would have it, the class was cancelled.
Welp, I now had an hour and a half to kill. I could’ve gone to get coffee and read the paper (sounded deee-lightful) but felt the Lord tugging on my heart to get in some much needed time with Him. So, even though the wildfire smoke was THICK that morning, I hauled myself over to Snow King, our local ski hill by winter -slash- natural stair master by summer. And began walking UP. There was NO ONE else there, not even another car in the parking lot. I was alone. Well, me and God. And as I walked higher I felt the haze of the busy-ness of life fade away and I became focused on Him.
He drew me into deep communion with Him. It was peaceful and it was water to my soul. He helped me meditate on compassion for each of my children. I became acutely aware of the tender areas of each of my children’s lives. This is no accident, friends. I have been praying frequently for the Lord to give me compassion for my children, and to offer them kindness and patience, in a spirit of deep, deep love.
The clarity and peace I received on that little morning hike this week have given me a renewed hope for parenting our kids and for focusing on what’s truly important.
My favorite Psalm of all time is Psalm 25. Verses 4-5 say, “Show me your ways, O Lord, teach me your paths; guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long.”
His ways are higher than my ways. That means they are better than my ways. My way is my perfect world, the one I described earlier, that exists only in my mind. The one where everything is easy, perfect, and clean.
Parenting my kids is messy, imperfect, and complicated. It’s inconvenient, hard, and I mess up. A LOT. But where I mess up, His grace covers me. COMPLETELY.
And some day, when I stand face to face with our Lord, and He asks me what I did with those little people He gave me to raise, I want to approach him with that good kind of exhaustion, the kind that you get when you’ve given everything in your heart and soul. The satisfying kind. I want say that I gave them ALL I had and showed them His love above all else.
And so, may my house be messy if it means my children are loved. May I feel sleep-deprived every day if it means they feel safe and cared for. And may Ben and I lie on the battlefield victorious the day they leave home, if it means they know how wholly and dearly loved they are by the Creator of the Universe, their Abba Father. To Him be the glory and the honor and the power forever and ever.
Amen.
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31 Gifts
Today is the last day of July.
Our family changed forever exactly one month ago, on the first day of July.
In many ways it seems that just a moment ago we were stepping off the plane here in the Tetons, the scent of Addis still permeating our pores. Yet in many other ways it seems our family of five has been such since the day we were matched to our youngest daughter, sweet Saliha, on February 3, 2015.
Adoption, particularly the international kind, is funny. You wait and wait and wait until one day you get this grainy, pixelated picture of a child who lives halfway across the world and someone tells you they will be yours. Someday. Not sure when, but someday. You begin to envision life with this child. You think about what milestones they are hitting, who is holding them when they cry, how big they are and what size clothing you might buy for them. You have a really hard time answering when people ask you if you have kids and if so, how many. Maybe, like me, you have a really sad day when their first birthday comes and goes and they still live halfway across the world.
You wait for those grainy photos. Month after month, you wait for them. You stare at them. You cry at them. You can almost feel that warm mocha (in our case) skin next to yours. You wonder what they might smell like. You simply ACHE because all of this is just in your dreams, and not in reality like you wish it was.
Then one day, it actually becomes your reality. It might be exactly like you envisioned it, but a more likely scenario is that it’s nothing like that at all. Unlike a newborn baby, an adopted toddler comes with a history. Not only that, they come with a personality! We were lucky enough to meet one of Saliha’s first caregivers. Through translation, we laughed with this sweet nanny about how she sucks her 3rd and 4th fingers of her left hand when she is tired or uneasy. Even just last night, as I snuggled her to sleep, Saliha sucked those fingers, drooling all the while so much so that by the time I laid her in her crib, my shirt and armpit were soaked. :)
I could choose to be sad that someone else knew this quirky little trait of hers before I did. Someone else has seen the first time she rolled over, the first time she smiled, heard her first giggle and watched her first steps.
But, my friends. If I wallow in the past, I will miss the present. If I spend my days wondering what happened, I won't see what IS happening before my eyes.
We had no reason to believe our case would pass court before the court closures in August and September. Since I was fully prepared to wait until October, each “first” we now get to see is extra special. Each day is an unexpected gift of time with her, getting to know her better and discovering all her adorable personality traits. Two of my favorites are her undying love for water (we CANNOT keep the girl out of lakes and pools. Swim lessons shall commence STAT), and her quiet determination (read: future professional climber slash soccer player slash anything-you-can-do-I-can-do-better, GRAHAM, now give me your bike).

Being a parent has taught me all kinds of valuable things. Things like how to change a diaper in the black of night, on the back of a car, or in mid-air (I’m basically a diaper ninja now); and that I should NEVER leave the house without snacks; and of course how to perfect the art of distraction (”Graham, let’s see how many buses we can find on the way to school!”); and that lots of TV isn’t good for kids, but some TV is required for mom’s sanity, particularly at 4:30pm (Seriously, how can you say Daniel Tiger isn’t off the CHAIN? He even teaches me valuable lessons, like how to take a deep breath and count to four when I feel so mad that I wanna roar).
More than anything, being a parent has taught me about God’s undeniable and steadfast love for me. Now, to be clear, I am in no way comparing myself to our great Father in heaven! I am merely saying that I kinda, sorta catch a tiny glimpse of that crazy love when I go to love on my own kids.
It is human nature to desire a certain response when we offer love to someone. But that’s not actually love in its truest form. Jesus asks us to love even when we don’t get the desired response. 1 John 4:10-11 tells us that “This is love. Not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another.”
I just love this passage. God showers us with love regardless of whether or not we love him in return. Of course, his hope is that we would, just as I hope the same for my little ones. But as Christians and as parents he asks us to love one another and especially our kids, regardless of their response.
As Ben can tell you, the response he received from Saliha during the first couple weeks was not at all what he hoped for! She was fearful of him even being in the same room, let alone trying to hold her. Yet, at the end of each day, he would inevitably say, “Man. I just love that girl.” He continues to love on her every day, with patience and adoration, the way daddies do. Simply because she is a cherished child of God, entrusted to us to love and care for. Simply because she is his daughter.
I’m happy to report that after 4 weeks at home she has gone from crying when he gets home to running into his arms! And did I mention she has also started giving us the sweetest little kisses? One of many reasons she has earned the nickname Sweet Saliha at our house. She is still fearful at times and we know that attachment is and will continue to be a process. But it sure is nice to hit these little triumphant milestones.

Our hope and prayer is that ALL our kids would know how deeply they are loved, not only by us but that they would know the Father’s deep and abiding love for them. And that through that, they WOULD respond, by sharing it with others.
That’s the beautiful thing about love; it never decreases by being shared. It ALWAYS multiplies.
Our little quiet flower bud is beginning to bloom.

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This is Home

I can’t believe it’s been over a week since we returned home with Saliha.
I’ve been wanting to write something, but how does one find the words to capture the magnitude of such a situation?
So, instead of babbling on (and on and on) about how things have gone chronologically, I think it will be better to simply highlight some meaningful moments of the last week.
Here we go!
1. Boarding the 16 hour flight from Addis Ababa, Ethiopia to Washington, DC was something I was dreading since the very beginning of our adoption process. First off, my fear of flying over oceans has increased significantly as I’ve gotten older. Secondly, crying babies are no walk in the park, let alone on an airplane. The combination of extreme fear and heightened anxiety was enough to make me break out in a cold sweat. Except now that the time had come, I was breaking out in a hot sweat, what with a 19-month-old strapped to me and all. Thankfully she didn’t seem too concerned; she was already sleeping peacefully. I wondered if she could sleep for 16 hours straight? As I attempted to prepare my little seat area for, I don’t know, anything from a hungry baby to a sudden tailspin into the deep blue Atlantic that would eventually sit 30,000 feet below us, I felt the silent stare from those around me. I couldn’t tell if they were stares of curiosity, disapproval, confusion, or mere interest. I tried to shake the uneasiness I’ve tried to prepare myself for for so long. It was as though God knew I needed confirmation in that moment. My neighbor for the next 16 hours arrived and sat down next to me. “Is this your child?” He asked in a way that was not judgmental, just conversational. “Yes.” Came my answer. “She’s adorable.” It almost surprised me when the tears stung my eyes. A simple question with a very simple answer, yet it carried the weight of the world in that moment.

2. Sweet Saliha did surprisingly well during our very long journey home. Minimal tears, so long as I was holding her. Have you ever held 22 wiggly pounds for 30 straight hours? Thankfully I did not have to the WHOLE time. My back and shoulders were grateful when, at long last, she decided she could perhaps walk around in the Minneapolis airport (shout out to the indoor play area!). At first, she tolerated walking holding tightly to my hand. But then, it was like she had discovered something incredible. She started running through the airport! Well, as best she knew how. It hit me that this is the most space she has ever had to run around and explore in her entire life! And she was NOT about to hold back. I realized in that moment that, while we have missed many firsts of her life, we will not miss another. And this is the first major “first” that I will remember: watching her run with abandon. Girl, just you wait until we get to the Tetons.

3. Three words: Slip. And. Slide. This girl LOVES IT. Nina asks for it daily, so when I felt we had emerged from the haze of jet lag just enough to keep our children safe around water, on the 4th of July, we broke it out. I thought for sure she would be terrified. On the contrary. She showed a lot of curiosity and jumped right in, squealing in delight and splashing around. I mean, she’s got a big sister and big brother to keep up with. For better or for worse, she’s already imitating them.


4. As I mentioned before, we missed a lot of firsts for this girl. Now we get to watch the world light up through her eyes as she experiences each new thing. Without a doubt it makes the world brighter for us. The first time we put her in the swing at our neighborhood park, oh man...let’s just say her joy could not be contained! I have no idea if she’s ever been in a swing before, but those happy shrieks lead me to believe she has not! I can’t believe I didn’t have a video of that. This pic will have to suffice.

5. I realize it’s only been a week, but already we have watched little Saliha blossom from a scared, silent, expressionless little girl into a vibrant, smiling, babbling, delightful sweetheart. She is constantly on the move, playing with her brother and sister, laughing with glee, and exploring the world around her. Why just today, we took her for her first trip into Grand Teton National Park where we spent the day playing and exploring at String Lake. She LOVED that cold glacier water and RAN down the hiking trail, looking mischievously back at me until I would inevitably chase her. When I’d catch her and tickle her, she’d collapse into a fit of giggles. Then want to do it all over again. Sweet thing! I think she will sleep well tonight. :)

The most frequent question we have been asked this week is, how is she adjusting? It sure is hard to say after only one week, but my best answer is that things are going better than I ever expected they would. I’m still not sure how I am going to do practical things like clean my house, go to work, exercise, or get groceries, but for now we are having fun doing something we’ve all waited far too long to do: simply spend time together.



Sweet daughter, you are are home.
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New Chapter
We are heading home real soon.
We have completed all necessary appointments and paperwork. Saliha is ours forever and is about to become a US citizen to boot! Without the myriad of forms to fill out and documents to notarize, life will surely feel like it’s missing something, but somehow I think I’ll manage. 😉
As we prepare to head home, we bring to a close this very long chapter of waiting and hoping and praying. It’s one of the hardest chapters of my life yet it is the one God has used to shape and mold me more than any of the others and I would not trade it for anything.
The new chapter in our life will be an amazing one, no doubt. It will also be one that we figure out as we go. We are so thankful to all who have supported us, believed in us, encouraged us, and prayed for us. As we begin this new chapter we will need your support more than ever! But it might surprise you to know that that support may look very different from how you envision it.
To put it bluntly, we actually need to teach Saliha that we are her parents. Because she has had multiple caregivers whom she has had to share with lots of other kids for her entire life, this is a completely foreign concept. She has to learn over time that if she is hungry, tired, hurt, sad or needs anything WE will be her providers and nurturers.
The best and quickest way for her to learn this is to set some boundaries. Not forever, but initially. Thus, it is important that Ben and I are the only ones to hold her. If she is hungry, we are the only ones who should feed her. If she is hurt, we are the only ones who should comfort her. If she is tired, we are the only ones who should snuggle her and put her to bed. We are the ones who will change her diaper, wipe her tears, give her stuff, and on and on. Again, this is not forever, but during this critical time it's super important. We know you guys get it!
The best way to support us in this transition is to help us have as much time as possible to do all the aforementioned things!
Also, please know that we will definitely need time with friends so don't take this as a message that we don't want to see anyone! We welcome that, just give us a call before heading over to make sure we are in a good place to spend time with you.
As far as gifts go, you are so welcome to bring them, but we do ask that you give them directly to us, not to her. This way we can give them to her. Also, you are welcome to play with her but again, all holding of her is solely our responsibility.
Just to reiterate, this won't be forever. The more you can help us stick to these boundaries now, the better and more quickly she will attach to us and us to her!
With that said, we are heading home soon! I am purposefully not disclosing our arrival day as we anticipate any type of greeting party would be pretty overwhelming to little Saliha. Once we are home, we'll let everyone know when we are settled and you can come over to visit. We are so so excited to introduce our newest little one to all our family and friends!!!
With love, The Pascals.
All five of them.
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Gotcha, kiddo
We’ve got our girl.
We carried more than just a toddler out of the care center yesterday.
We carried a new joy, new responsibility, new worries, new anxieties. A deeply-rooted history from half way across the world which will forever be intertwined with ours. We carried a permanence. We carried a brokenness that makes our hearts ache all the way to their very core. We also carried hope. Hope in the One who knows our deepest hurts and covers them all in His redemptive grace and love.
We carried our daughter, precious child of God, wholly and dearly loved by Him, and entrusted to us forevermore.
I won’t share all the intimate details of our last two days, but suffice it to say that it has already been filled with richness, love, peace, beauty, and rightness as well as difficulties, tears, uncertainties, and sadness. They are the kind of days that leave you feeling exhausted in the best possible way.
Our time in Ethiopia is coming to a close as we are headed to the Embassy tomorrow to apply for her visa, the final document we need to get her home. Please pray over this last step in our process. We will be breathing a big sigh of relief when at long last we touch down on US soil in just a few days!
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Looking at the photographs, the changes are obvious Sahlia is showing. Less fear and concern than in the first photos you posted. Joy and happiness in the latest photos. I was wondering how her mind would work - wondering if these special new people in her life might go away and not come back. When she is in Jackson, I am sure she will get over the fear of being abandoned quicker. I think it is so wonderful that you are learning about her birth country for her. Is the unicorn story for real?
Hello! thanks for reading and for words of encouragement. Just curious who this is? 😀
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Adventures in Addis
The last several days have been devoted to exploring Addis Ababa, the capital of Ethiopia. With around 5 million inhabitants, just driving through this dense urban city has been an adventure in and of itself! Dodging cattle, donkeys, people, potholes, Bajaj, and construction blockades along roads with varying degrees of, um, surface quality is not only common but expected. We now know firsthand why driving the gravel roads in particular is called African massage. 😊 Wandering through the Merkato in Addis is not for the faint of heart nor sensitive of smell. No, you've got to be hearty to explore this area. Seemingly chaotic and disorganized, it's actually a very intricately and orderly market where you can buy anything from spices to laundry baskets, false banana plants to recycled metal works. We walked through muddy alleyways, staying close to our guide Yonas and trying very hard to not think too much about what just went squish under our shoes. A sensory overload for sure, it was all I could do to avoid being speared with a load of old metal atop a busy worker passing by or run head-on into a large bag of green coffee beans. From here we went on to explore something a bit more aesthetically pleasing. The Holy Trinity Cathedral is a sight to behold! Set atop a hill, this cathedral is an important place of worship for Orthodox Christians and is home to the tombs of Emperor Haile Selassie and his wife. The ornate stained glass windows were my favorite part, along with the beautifully adorned women in their white dress and head coverings. Lunch at a delightful art gallery and restaurant combination called Makush was a fantastic way to take a midday break and perhaps find some beautiful art to take home. We enjoyed a respite from Ethiopian food, as delicious as it is, in favor of the Italian fare served here. 😀 Next up was a peaceful and scenic drive to Entoto mountain for views of the city (at least, what could be seen through the fog and smog) and a visit to the Entoto Maryam Church and museum. We ended the day with a quick shopping excursion and finally dinner at Dimma, a traditional dinner and dance restaurant with the best guide ever- Yonas- and his wife and daughter. So so fun!!! We also got to peruse the goods at the fantastic NGO Bazaar this morning and had another fun traditional dinner and dance outing last night with two other American families. Whew!! It's been a whirlwind but I think we've gotten all the sightseeing and touristy stuff done that we wanted to (which has been really fun)...so up next-take custody of our girl!! Thursday the unicorns came and delivered her birth certificate 😉 and Friday we got her passport and applied for her visa. We are getting so close!! We are planning to take custody of her Monday after she goes to her medical appointment. If things keep moving well this week we could be heading home by next weekend. I can't even begin to tell you how excited we are about this!!! I've imagined this moment for so long. We only have two more nights without her. Two more nights until we don't have to plan to visit her, because she will already be with us. Two more nights until she gets to see what family is all about. Two more nights until this precious angel gets to start making up for lost time of hugs, snuggles, kisses and cuddles. Team Pascal is bringing its 5th member home. Amen.
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Here's a few of our time with Sweet Saliha this week! Isn't she a doll? ♥️
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Photos from our time in Harar! It is so hard to choose just a few, but here are some of our favorites
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In Other News...
Thought I’d give a little update on our adoption status today.
Unfortunately there isn’t much to say. We passed court on Tuesday last week, got our adoption decree on Wednesday, and hoped to get our birth certificate on Thursday.
Didn’t happen.
Birth certificates are only issued on Thursdays now (I hear you asking why. The answer is simple: Thursdays are magical and rainbow-striped unicorns gallop through the streets delivering candy, glitter, and birth certificates for adopted children on Thursdays. Only Thursdays. Duh, everybody knows that). So unless there is some miraculous change of the winds, we probably won’t get it until Thursday. Once we do, we can move forward with the Embassy side of things.
Some of you have asked why, if Saliha is now our child, she is not staying with us yet. My answer is multi-faceted, so allow me to explain. We are certainly ABLE to take her, and technically could have done so as early as last Wednesday. But, once we do, we cannot take her back to the Care Center. We also aren’t really supposed to travel with her or take her all over the city once she is with us. Because we want to learn and experience all we can about her birth country, we decided it would be best to get all that done first. Then when we do bring her into our care, we can focus just on our family time with her.
We also wanted to give her a chance to gradually get used to us before uprooting her from the only little world she knows. I know the pictures I share paint a lovely tale, but in reality it hasn’t been that easy. Every time we arrive she cries. During our first couple visits she was terrified for much of the time we were there. We would get a couple little smiles at best and by the end of the visit she would tolerate us holding her.
But I am happy to report that each day is better than the last! Several days passed before we got a giggle out of her. It was so sweet and felt like a huge milestone. Today we saw more breakthroughs as we visited several times throughout the day. Each time we came she began to show more favoritism towards Ben, running to him with arms up whenever he wasn’t holding her. It’s really not fair- he tosses her in the air better than I do and he has all that stubble that tickles her face when he kisses her. ;)
By the time we left for good this evening, we knew we had made a major breakthrough- she CRIED WHEN WE LEFT.
The time is nearing when we will bring her into our care. It was quite clear to us tonight that our coming and going is becoming more detrimental and less beneficial. We have some important sightseeing scheduled at the end of this week, so it will likely be early next week. It will be a momentous occasion, one we are really looking forward to, and I’ll be sure to let you know when it happens!
Thank you all so much for your encouragement, support, kind words, and prayers. It means the world to us and we feel so loved! For now, we would ask for prayer for good health and safety for all of us, continued bonding with Saliha, and that gosh-darn-ding-dong birth certificate.
Ride magical unicorn, ride!
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Harar: A Rich History and a few Hyenas
Where can I even begin? The last 3 days have been filled with wonder, beauty, and truth, rich in cultural and historical significance, and laden with all kinds of things to delight the senses and awaken the soul. My heart is full of joy and thankfulness. You may be asking, where can one have such an enlightening experience? In the well-preserved, historical walled city of Harar.
Our daughter Saliha hails from this enchanting town and thus it has been a top priority on our list of things to see during our time in Ethiopia. While the details of her life story are too personal to divulge here, I am happy to report that I still have much to share about this beautiful place. Read on to take a virtual journey with me through what is proclaimed to be the 4th holiest city of Islam…
First, a brief history lesson will help set the scene. Brief. This isn’t a history book, it’s a blog after all!
Set high in the hills to the southeast of Dire Dawa, Harar was built approximately 1000 years ago. The compact city, which is also an UNESCO World Heritage Site, is surrounded by a thick wall originally built to keep intruders out. There are 6 gates that lead into the city, 5 of which are original. The city was built as a trading hub and continues to be a crossroad for business, in addition to a well-preserved historical town maintaining much of its traditions. The city is mainly Muslim, with upwards of 100 mosques. To give some perspective there is only 1 Ethiopian Orthodox church within the walls. One of the things that is so intriguing and also inspiring about Harar is that the Muslims and Christians live peacefully together. Indeed, we saw this in action when our local Muslim guide greeted some Christian friends of hers warmly on the street. The Harar Gate, the main gate leading into the city, bears a sign that says, “Harar, city of. Peace, tolerance, and solidarity in everyday life.“ Imagine if more of our world embraced such a way of living!
I think that’s enough to give some good background for now. So, in order to keep this somewhat manageable to read, I thought it best to sum up our trip with a Pascal family tradition: A Top Ten List! In no particular order, here are our top ten favorite things about our trip to Harar.
10. Arefat- Our local guide was a native Harari woman. Her beauty is exceeded only by her grace and kindness. She is very knowledgable, working both as a tour guide and a social worker, and is clearly a pillar of her community. And did I mention she is Nina’s new honorary Auntie? She led us through the winding narrow alleyways of Harar with ease, pointing out things of significance and speaking of her hometown with words that seemed to flow freely from her rich ancestry, as though it were pulsing through her veins. She readily took charge of our 6 year old, holding her hand in the busy markets, buying her balloons, and giggling with her in the van as we drove about. Arefat is a delightful treasure of a friend and seeing Harar through her eyes was just incredible.
9. Yonas- Simply the best! Our main guide from beginning to end, our trip to Harar would not have been what it was without Yonas. He is a well-respected guide who has worked in the adoption world for years and there is a reason he is regarded as one of the best. We were blessed to spend the whole weekend discovering why. He travelled with us from Addis to Harar and back, navigating not only the airports but all the travel, hotels, meals, tours, sightseeing, and the more pertinent arrangements for us to learn more of our daughter’s story. A total history buff, he is a wealth of knowledge and shared fascinating history lessons with us wherever we went. He was patient and kind, and paid particular attention to Nina’s needs, being a daddy to little ones himself. He went above and beyond to make this trip an extraordinary experience and we will forever be grateful for his guidance and friendship.
8. Abdullah Sherif Private Museum- This is one of the first places we visited during our tour of Harar. The curator of the museum was quite knowledgeable and actually spoke very good English. We got a whirlwind history lesson and enjoyed gazing at the old relics of the past. This guy also specializes in book binding. As an extra special treat we got to see his shop where he is working on re-binding many books for the museum, some as old as a thousand years.
7. Coffee- Even the most discerning hipster would turn his nose up in disgust at his beloved handcrafted pour over in favor of Harar coffee. There is something serene about drinking coffee in Ethiopia. It is not merely sloshed into an oversized mug from a stained, orange handled carafe. Serving coffee is truly an art here. Incense is burned, the beans are roasted fresh over hot coals, and the tiny porcelain cups are set just so, each one waiting for the chance to behold the aromatic, rich, black nectar brewing naturally slow. There is actually a small coffee roaster within the city walls called Harar Coffee and we had the chance to swing in. The heavenly scent of the coffee permeated the air as we explored the roasting and grinding machinery; in fact, the beans in the roaster were still warm! Visions of auto-shipment danced in my head for a brief moment until I was reluctantly brought to reality. Instead we settled for purchasing several kilos (yes, I will probably cry the day we grind up the end of the last bag). And while there were many bags already packaged, the enthusiastic and friendly Samson insisted upon packaging new bags fresh from the roaster for us! Um, ok!
6. Harari women in their dresses- The colors! The patterns! The way it flows in the breeze as they walk! Such beauty and grace. Such magnificence. I didn’t want to miss seeing even one single one.
5. Shopping in the markets- Arefat guided us through the market to the choicest vendors for buying coffee, spices, and incense. I felt like an ancient traveling merchant! Then on to one of my favorite parts: the fabric vendors! This is where the Harari women buy the brightly colored fabric with which they use to make their dresses. I was looking forward to buying some fabric but found an even greater joy when I realized there were tailors scattered about as well, and that sewing a traditional Harari dress only took about 5-10 minutes! I had a delightful time choosing fabrics, then handing them to the tailor for him to whip up festive dresses for me and my 2 daughters. Thankfully, Arefat did all the bartering.
4. Adare home- The Adare style homes are the traditional homes of the Harari people. They are unique in style and shape, as well as decor and purpose. Our guide Arefat, actually took us to her own home! We were able to meet some of her family and get a cultural lesson about the homes. The most interesting part of the rectangular dwelling is the main living area, which has various platforms for seating. There is no furniture, only thick rugs and pillows. People are to sit on the platform befitting their status, with the most important people seated the highest. The floor of Adare homes are painted bright red, to signify the blood that was shed during the resistance against Menelik. Super interesting. And also nice to relax for a bit on my appropriate platform.
3. Feeding the hyenas- Yes, you read that correctly. Feeding the wild hyenas has long been a tradition outside the gates of Harar. It is still done nightly by the hyena men, who call the hyenas to them by name and feed them hunks of camel meat. As you can imagine, it has become somewhat of a tourist attraction. So naturally, we found ourselves driving down a long bumpy dirt road one evening to check it out. As we rounded the bend, we saw THEM. About 7 of them, all standing around a hyena man seated near his bucket of camel meat. It was terrifying, really. They are huge. We timidly got out of the car and watched as he placed a hunk of meat on the stick, called to the nearest hyena, and successfully transferred the meat into the beast’s jaws without getting eaten. I had planned only to watch but was quickly persuaded otherwise. After all, these were “friendly” hyenas. At least, that’s what they told me. I sat down next to the hyena man who prepared the camel-meat stick for me. As I held my hand out, he whistled and called to one. Somewhat to my surprise, the hyena chose the meat in favor of my arm and miracle of miracles, left me to live another day! Ben needed a bit more convincing to go next, but did it reluctantly. And wouldn'tchaknow, brave little Nina needed no convincing whatsoever! Granny Pancake would’ve been proud. It was certainly an experience I am happy to have had, but perhaps even a little more happy that it’s over.
2. Mango Market- There are several markets in Harar, but this one lies just outside the gates and is a sight to behold. An endless sea of colorfully dressed Harari women display the green and orange fruit neatly on tarps or in buckets. Donkeys wait patiently nearby, resting from carrying the loads to the market. Women carry large baskets atop their heads, going to and fro. The hustle and bustle of bartering, exchange of money, and packaging of the delectable jewels make for a photographer’s dream. Not to mention, the mangoes in Harar are truly the best ones I’ve ever had!
1. Learning more of our daughter’s history- The time we spent with Yonas has provided us with invaluable stories, photos, and connections which will help us teach our daughter her story as she grows up. I really can’t share much more than this, but suffice it to say that it was beyond anything I ever could have hoped for or imagined.
Welp, that’s all she wrote for now! Photos coming later!
~Addie
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