Yesterday was the Fourth of July, so like everyone else I was thinking of our freedom, our country, our privileges.
As you know, my three adopted kids came from Kazakhstan. Buggy had to apply for her citizenship after we brought her home in April 1999. It was a formality—they had to grant it, but we still had to fill out the paperwork and pay several hundred dollars to receive a Certificate of Naturalization signed by then-President Clinton. When it came, we took her downtown and snapped her picture with the capitol in the background. It was right around July 4.
When Bear and Bubba came home in late November 2001, the law had changed and they were automatically citizens when we touched American soil. But we still had to pay to get the certificates if we wanted proof of citizenship, which, just a few months post 9/11, I definitely did.
I can’t imagine—and generally don’t try or want to imagine—how different their lives would have been had they stayed in Kazakhstan. Far less better politically, monetarily, physically, in probably every way.
But ours have been blessed beyond measure as well.
As always, only God knew what He had in store when I filled out that first block on the first form of what turned out to be reams of paper that eventually added three children to our family.
And He always knows best.