All I need to know I learned in Barbados...

Ok, so I didn't learn EVERYthing I need to know in Barbados, however I did learn a lot. And some of the lessons I was privileged to learn I did so only because I was in Barbados, yet others I think would have come from my first week as a married woman, no matter where we were geographically on the globe. Regardless, here they are, in no particular order:

* Close all doors and windows to keep lizards, crabs, cats, and monkeys outside; otherwise you might find yourself sleeping with any one (or all) of them.

* Based on results, saltwater from the ocean (namely, the Caribbean Sea) does indeed compromise the effectiveness of the SPF in sunscreen.

* "Old married folk" now has a sense of realism to it that rivals images of our parents' "early" bedtimes. Once the wedding rings were placed on our fingers, we've had a terrible time keeping our eyes open past 9p. Besides the wedding night and our days/nights of travel to and from Barbados it's been like clockwork: the clock strikes 8:30p and one of us begins the yawning ceremonies which inevitably lead us to bed within the next hour.
(Sidebar: this lesson hasn't been true this week as I've had to go to bed without my husband by my side since he's working--I'm so unmotivated to climb into a big bed without him, even if I'm completely exhausted. Tonight Sleepytime Tea is supporting me in aiming for bed earlier than 2a . . .)

* There is something so intimately sweet and spiritually invigorating to see a man proudly wear (and show off) his wedding ring. When Raleigh so carefully slides it on his finger (or when I catch him happily "checking it out" on his hand), I can't help but smile . . .

* Jellyfish sting. Even the little ones.

* There is something so satisfying in achieving a goal, it cannot be expressed in words. Seeing the sunset from the very water from which the sun will fall behind, sea kayaking, getting another stamp in the passport . . . priceless.

* For some people, naked is a viable wardrobe option.

* For the Barbadians, the posted occupancy limit on a public bus is only a suggested minimum. In fact, it appears such limit only encourages the driver to at least double what is written on the sign.

* Rain is indeed "liquid sunshine" and brightens all that is visible when the clouds aren't releasing their store. It is as much a gift from God as the sunshine.

* It's not real until it's real. I've been practicing writing "Kimberly Elstun" for well over a year, yet I still sometimes forget to sign that way. I guess I'll just have to keep practicing . . . :)

* One of the first times my husband had to "rescue" me was in Half Moon Fort, St. Lucy; and there, we learned that he is great at gecko-herding.

* Although extremely attractive all the time, I think Raleigh is most handsome when he is sleeping, or in that very sleepy, only half-awake state. And I secretly hope that if I feel this way about him, he feels the same about me and uncurled hair and no make-up.

* The "Reggae Bus" with its blaring music, wild drive patterns, and co-pilot pouring shots for all the passengers is just not for us. Guess we're not as "hip" and as "cool" as the young Barbadians.

* I STILL love how he holds my hand, caresses my arm, or gently pulls the hair away from my face with his hand. And although nothing is physically different in those actions since April 10th, something is different. And I hope it never gets old.

Mr. and Mrs. and Now What?!

Ok so the big day has come and gone. Months of planning and figuring and organizing and more planning and more figuring and organizing . . . aaaaand we're done. Mr. and Mrs. Elstun at last; we're married! :)

It feels soooooooo great, I am not able to adequately explain it. To finally have my best friend as my husband, my partner for life, my one and only forever--announced before man and blessed by God--is AWESOME. I keep attempting to sort the feelings running through my heart and the thoughts running through my head in order to put them together in a way that can give some semblance of how exactly to describe the experience of being Mrs. Kimberly Elstun (and more so, what that means to me), however I keep coming up short. Instead, I'll share some of my biggest thoughts and memories of my wedding day; perhaps that will at least give a peek into the joyful exuberance I am feeling . . .

All in all, it was perfect. There were plenty of speed bumps to cross, don't get me wrong, however with the support system Raleigh and I had in place, those speed bumps were barely felt and even the larger obstacles that popped up during the day didn't dampen our spirit. I can only imagine that April 10, 2010 was exactly as God had orchestrated, as it was everything we'd hoped it would be and more.

The sky was beautifully blue, and the sun was shining bright. Roads remained dry, so travel into the snow-capped mountains was pleasant and peaceful. I felt the most beautiful I have ever felt, and was totally loved and cared for by the amazing women who surrounded me and cared for me that day. I was late for my ceremony (yes, I know--ME, the planner and always-early-one!) but it didn't matter as the wedding didn't get started until I showed up anyways, and the music that was resonating within the walls of the church kept all smiling through to the start (and beyond) anyways. :)

I remember seeing all the faces of family and dear friends, smiling back at me as I made my way into the church, so happy to share this wonderful celebration with us. I remember the look in Raleigh's eyes as I walked down the aisle towards him, and how everything else around us seemed to blur away into a foggy mist. I remember the kiss from my father as he handed me to my future husband, the warmth from his lips resonating on my cheek just long enough to produce a tear (or two). I remember so clearly how Raleigh worked through his tears to say his vows (I totally picked up on the inflection of his voice when he said, "I will love you . . ."), and how he so lovingly handed me back my once-dry-but-now-snot-filled hankie after I handed it to him to dry his eyes. I remember how the sun would shine through the stained glass windows in the church at various times throughout the ceremony, producing a beautiful rainbow affect in the rays of light that shone into the room. I remember signing my name--Kimberly N. Elstun--for the first time on our marriage license placed on the altar, and how electric our first kiss as husband and wife was, tingling our lips with an icy heat that I look forward to recreate everyday. I remember how Alex, Andy, and Gerry jumped into the refrain of Matthew West's "More" with a contagious enthusiasm that bounced in our hearts as we joyfully walked down the aisle arm in arm as Mr. and Mrs. Elstun. ("I love you more . . .")

Fr. Matt did an AWESOME job officiating. The homily was one that spoke directly to both Raleigh and I, and we will most certainly forever remember the words that touched our hearts so deeply. He spoke of the "rocks" upon which we have chosen to build our lives (we were engaged on a rock at the Grand Canyon, were married at the Chapel on the Rock, and are building our family on the "rock" of our faith in Christ and His church), and so beautifully incorporated the gospel reading of the wise man. It's true we want the strongest foundation possible, found only in our Lord.

All these wonderful memories make me smile, even now, and by far outweigh the less-than-great things that snuck into our day, not even worth mentioning now. Point is, it was all wonderful and the day turned out exactly as it should. And we're married now, Raleigh and I. Husband and wife, partners in life, now and forever. Our relationship has definitely changed, as there is now a holy spirit that intertwines us both, divinely raising us up to a higher, more sacred union. Not that he (Raleigh) loved me any less before we were married, but it's different now. And I like it. A lot.

And now, as we begin our married lives together, I think, how much more wonderful can this get? Now what?!

The most exciting part is, I know He has much in store, and it's only the beginning . . .

Seven Days and Counting

So one week from today, Raleigh and I will be getting married! Hooray!

It's so hard to believe that the time has finally arrived. I mean, we've been engaged since forever (18 months) and just the thought of ME finally getting married seems so surreal. I've been to dozens of weddings throughout my 27 years, have thought about my big day since childhood, have been planning for and talking about this day for months and months . . . All of this for so long and yet in seven short days from today, it will be my time.

It will be ME getting fussed over by my girls, ME slipping into the beautiful white dress, ME walking down the aisle to joyful music, ME being the center of attention (with Raleigh of course) and the lone draw for the event. It's crazy to think that it is my time. I think back to just before I reconnected with Raleigh, and laugh at how sure I was this day would never happen. Weddings almost made me sad back then--they were a reminder that I didn't have anyone I loved that much, in that way; that I was so far "behind" all my friends and cousins that were of the same age and madly in love; that my conviction to my faith and my values over the years before may have cost me something greater than I could explain (at least that was my fear). And yet, one day it happened--I fell in love with the person I least expected to--and now am getting married. It's true--time really does fly! If I could go back in time and tell myself anything, I'd say "Be patient, and continue on. It WILL happen. Keep faith. And most importantly, DO NOT SETTLE--because sweetie, a really awesome man is on his way to you and you have to be ready to welcome him into your heart . . . " Not that my advice to myself would change anything (I did exactly as I would have suggested), however encouragement (and a little bit of renewed confidence in those affirmations) in low times would have been nice. Oh well, right?! I'm seven days away from saying "yes" to forever with the man of my dreams, and it all seems so right.

Ok so push the forward button, and at this time next week, he'll probably be still in bed (SO not unusual). I'll have already had breakfast with my best friend and will be at the hair salon, watching my girls get their hair done and chatting about the day's events. We'll be within hours of me walking down the aisle, becoming Mrs. Kimberly Elstun, and then celebrating with friends and family from both near and far.

I'm most excited I think for the quiet moments . . . how blue the sky will be and how pretty the sun will sparkle off the mountain snow, how my surprise flowers look against my dress, how my sweet cousin will toss the flower petals as she walks, how Raleigh's face will look like as I begin my walk to the altar, how his eyes will sparkle as he blinks back tears and says his vows (I'm not expecting a dry ceremony on either of our parts), that first car ride together as husband and wife as we're driven from the church to the reception, the fun behind our first dance and ice cream cake, and then finally closing the door behind us in the hotel at the end of the night . . .

Seven days and counting; it's nearly our time!

Testing 1 . . . 2 . . . Is this thing on?!

Ok so I'm finally going to be doing the blog thing again . . . and truthfully, I'm quite excited. Not sure how well it will go (considering the large amount of spare time I have on my hands), however writing is quite therapeutic for me and lately--and I'm sure Raleigh will be the first to agree--I could use some more therapy.

So I guess that's it . . . I'm writing to therapize myself AND have some fun along the way. I've always enjoyed writing. And since I've been told folks enjoy reading my writing, this could be a win-win! You (the reader) get to laugh at my jokes and take a peek into our crazy world, and well . . . I get to share it in one place and not drive Raleigh completely nuts. Then again, I'll probably do that anyways, with or without a public blog. (No worries--he knows what he's getting himself into.)

Here's to many raised cups as those we love and care about share some time with us via this wonderful venue of technology (lovingly labeled "RKE Café") as we begin our lives together and create our own crazy concoctions, stirring in a little bit of everything that makes us happy. From hot rods to ice cream cones, I'm sure we'll have it all! Enjoy!

Update--HAITI

Hey, everyone.

First of all, I want to thank you for your prayers and warm thoughts over the past few days.  I have received many comforting words via email or Facebook (some by phone too!), and I appreciate all of you thinking of the children in Haiti at this time, and all those working so hard to get them home, including myself.

That being said, many of you have asked for an update and since life has been so busy lately, I haven't had much time.  And just so you know, I'd love to respond to your individual comments as they've come, however that simply is not feasible at this moment.  Tonight was my third straight night working 16+ hours straight, and I'm operating on very little sleep, so please forgive me if I don't make much sense.  Still, I'll do the best that I can . . .

First of all, I wanted to let everyone know that the drop of supplies in Haiti on Monday was a success!  We met the donor of the private plane at the airport, loaded all 1500 lbs. of rice, beans, charcoal, baby formula, water, medicines and more on board, and took off.  We refueled in FL (in case we had to circle above Port-au-Prince airport before landing), however received permission to land right as we approached the runway.  We miraculously met up with our contacts in Haiti at the airport (they managed to sweet-talk themselves right onto the runway!), and before the engines had even stopped turning, we had many of the supplies already loaded in their two trucks.  Thankfully, one truck was enclosed and the other had high wire sides (difficult to scale), so we were encouraged that everything would make it back to the creche in one piece.  We handed over cash ($10K) inside the private plane (didn't want to cause a scene or draw attention to the fact we were handing over that much $) and after securing everything (the cash was hid in a pack, strapped underneath the pantleg of one of the orphanage workers), said tearful goodbyes to the team on the ground.  Oh how I wished I could go with them back to the creche and the children!  We allowed our goodbye hugs to linger just a bit, and promised we'd see each other soon.

We were soon approached by a medical team from the University of Miami that had been volunteering in Haiti, and asked if we could take 7 doctors back to the States since our plane was now empty.  As soon as they were loaded on, we were off again.  We weren't on the ground for more than 3 hours.

By the time we landed again in FL, we had confirmation via email that everything did make it to the creche ok, and that the children cheered when they saw all the supplies being unloaded.  A hundred "thank you's" ensued--yes, even by email--which just echoed the words of gratitude pouring out of those we had handed the supplies to earlier.  A total success!  We were very pleased and considering we were preparing for a most difficult delivery, were extremely grateful everything happened so smoothly.  God definitely had a hand in that!

Since my return at 8p Monday night, however, we have seen a whirlwind of activity.  We (Judy, Lily, Jean, and I) have been working non-stop to get the required information to the US Dept. of State, the office of Homeland Security, and our families that is needed to obtain humanitarian parole visas that would grant entry into the United States.  Requirements change so fast (or are further defined)--hourly sometimes--and so in some ways it feels like we just keep doing the same things over and over again.  I know that's not true, however when you've been up for as long as we have contacting everyone under the sun to support us in this great endeavor, it's easy to lose track of what progress you're making, where.  In addition to this, I in particular have had families adopting from China or Ethiopia contact me and want further information on details of their process.  I feel that some situations have more of my attention now (clearly), however don't want to neglect my responsibilities to other families who are open to bringing orphans into their home, so am attempting to balance all that I can.  I don't think I'm doing a very good job, however for the most part, families aren't complaining.  I may be delinquent in my responses to them, but overall, they seem to understand.

Things could be happening soon . . . very soon . . . and the "things" I speak of could be very big.  In fact, I pray they are.  SO many people have come together to fight for these families and their children in Haiti . . . I just hope we're able to pull this off before something stalls the process again.  I cannot yet speak to details as any revelation before the time to bring action could seriously hinder (perhaps prohibit even) our efforts.  Still, I promise to update all just as soon as I can.

Once again, I find myself asking you to pray and send good vibes our way . . .

Pray for the children who continue to live at the creche despite a less-than-ideal situation and unsanitary conditions (they're still sleeping outside).  Pray that they will not only be taken care of physically during this difficult time, but emotionally as well.  I can only imagine what they're going through.

Pray for the families still waiting stateside to hold their precious children in their arms.  That they remain encouraged despite a lack of positive news and a seemingly endless maze of red tape, and that they continue to trust us (CCAI) as we do our best to guide them through this unprecedented process.

Pray for myself and those I work with, that we are able to accomplish all that we need to in order to get the children out of Haiti and home with their families.  Pray that we remain invigorated and operate at our highest ability, despite very little sleep and long hours running like mad at the office, and that our hearts are prepared for the results to come, whatever and whenever that may be.  We each have so much invested in these children and their parents . . .

Finally, pray for yourself and all those who feel anything for Haiti at this moment (I am!).  Pray that the people of Haiti aren't forgotten after the drama related to the initial crisis is over, and that the country is able to build itself up even stronger than before.  Pray for those that support us, who donated to our agency so that the supplies could be dropped, to our family members and dear friends who have been so patient and understanding as we've neglected duties at home and haven't had much time to nurture those relationships . . . that they feel the peace of God and choose to continue to support such a worthy cause despite the sacrifice.

I'll update as soon as this madness is over (or I have space to breath another breath).  Thank you all again for your love and support.
~Kimberly
P.S. The 6.0 magnitude earthquake/aftershock this morning toppled structures that were already weakened by the first quake, however didn't seem to do much damage to anything holding firm from last week.  Thanks be to God, again, all the children were uninjured and remained safe.

Haiti Update--Some Home, 18 More to Go!

Ok so I know it's been some time since I last wrote (things have been more than a little nutty over here), and I know that many of you are chomping at the bit to know how our efforts have shaken out over the past two weeks.  Let's see if I can cover the bases . . .

With as much surprise and unsettling force the earthquake brought to Haiti on January 12th, so it was a whirlwind of activity when an unexpected call came in on Friday, January 22nd that we had 22 kiddos making their way onto a plane heading to the United States.  We had no confirmation which 22 children they were (just that they were kiddos from the Maison orphanage matched with CCAI families), when exactly they were going to be leaving Haiti, nor when or where we could expect them to land in the U.S.

Going on as little solid information as that AND a whole lot of adrenaline, our team, supported by the wonderful folks of the State of Colorado Department of Human Services (with whom we'd been closely working) and some representatives of Governor Ritter and Senator Udall (both HUGE supporters of our efforts), took a chance and hopped a plane to Orlando, Florida, hoping that was the magic city the plane would land in.  My heart was with our team in spirit, however I was the brave soul who got to hold down the fort at the office and be the #1 contact for frantic and anxious parents.

So while our team was making their way to FL (and then waiting there for some word they were in the right place), I was on the front line in terms of anything related to Haiti.  I spent countless hours on the phone with families . . . some of them I got to share good news ("We just received word, your son/daughter is on that plane!") . . . and then with others I wasn't so lucky ("I'm sorry . . . we have no word yet . . . it appears that your child is still at the orphanage in Port-au-Prince . . .").  For those that were fortunate enough to learn of their child's imminent arrival into the States, I had to field hundreds of questions about when and where they could be reunited with their families, all without actual confirmed information to share.  (No one has done this before!  It was really trial by fire for all those involved!)  I shot from my hip a lot that day/night . . . and am grateful for the most part, the parents listened to what I had to say.  Some read rumors online that told them to go to Florida, when in reality, they were going to need to come to Colorado to receive their child(ren) . . . oh well . . . at least they could be grateful their children were no longer wondering if there was going to be enough food and water to sustain them for the week.

With Raleigh's support (he deserves a medal of honor for sure!), I went into the office Saturday the 23rd where I stayed until nearly 9p . . . I spoke with an officer from the United States Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS) headquarters in Washington, D.C. for hours, and diligently worked to clear one child at a time, name by name, for the humanitarian parole visa.  And one by one, they were given the green light.  I was so relieved!  The officer attempted to stop me as afternoon turned into evening--she wanted to go home--No, I said . . . she couldn't go home until I went home and I wasn't going to do that so as long as we had children sleeping outside and their families waiting anxiously for them here . . . I think she was irritated with my persistence, however she obliged.  By the time I couldn't read my writing anymore nor remember who I was dialing on the phone (really, it was that crazy!), we had all but 6 kiddos cleared.  Hooray!

I went home that night with two phones--mine and the CCAI 24-hour emergency phone--and fielded calls all through the night.  I think I got maybe 3 consecutive hours of sleep that night, and was quickly jolted from my restless slumber every time the phone would vibrate beside my pillow.  I was in constant contact with the team in FL (who, you guessed it, were in the right place!) who were impatiently waiting for the children to be released from Customs . . . a 16 hour process for some.  And then there were the phone calls attempting to arrange further transportation for the kiddos I worked so hard to clear throughout the day before, all the while trying to keep anxious families in the loop, with accurate information that changed on the hour, every hour.  (They're coming to CO and families should get them here, they're not coming to CO and families need to travel to FL to pick up their children, only some are coming to CO, but we're not sure which ones . . . )  Really . . . it was both confusing and frustrating.

Finally at 6a MST (no worries--I wasn't sleeping anyways!), I received the call that 15 kids were on the plane with our team (minus Judy and Jean who decided to stay behind in case other children landed soon) and were ready to depart for Colorado.  I sounded the alarms and notified the respective families, and headed out to the airport.

On Sunday, January 24th just after 11:30a . . . in a hangar at Denver International Airport, we watched the plane land and stop on the tarmac.  Little faces peered out the small windows, looking to have some glimpse as to what their future would hold.  I'm sure they were as anxious to meet Colorado as Colorado was anxious to meet them.  The stairs were rolled in and the Governor opened the door, and escorted by wonderful staff who had them wrapped in blankets and hats (not the same attire they were used to wearing in Haiti), we saw each child come down out of the plane . . . headed for a new life that they themselves couldn't even imagine.  And one by one we saw them get scooped up by anxious parents who burst into tears at just the sight of their sweet faces . . . and for awhile it was chaos everywhere . . . ever square inch of that hangar was buzzing with activity . . . kids crying, parents crying . . . kids smiling and parents smiling . . . nervous laughs of uncertainty and others just giggles of awkwardness at the craziness of it all . . . quick photos for official records and others for scrapbooks and lifetime memories . . . news crews and reporters looking for stories to publish later that night both on television and in the papers . . . some children being whisked away for immediate medical attention, others taking the time to sit and eat some snacks with their new families, who still looked strange and smelled funny . . .

It was crazy.  It was chaotic.  It was absolutely BEAUTIFUL.  I think that was the most amazing mess I've ever been a part of, and I mean that with all I have.  I was dazed when it was over ("Did that really just happen?"), however yes--it did . . . the day was a success!

I think about what those kids went through . . . earthquake, their world literally falling into pieces around them . . . their safe sanctuary invaded by robbers who take what little food and water they have . . . sleeping outside . . . toothpaste under their noses to mask some incredibly pungent smells . . . aftershocks that are as frightening as the first earthquake itself . . . stories of another land of new faces, a place they are promised they'll see . . . false trips to and from the US Embassy in Port-au-Prince . . . and then a quick dash to the airport where they are placed on a military cargo plane with men in full uniform and hundreds of anxiety-ridden refugees . . . sitting in an airport in FL, waiting for strange looking people to find the right papers and stamp them . . . 4, 6, 10, 12 hours . . . still waiting . . . then on another plane to a place where strange smoke comes out of your mouth when you exhale in the cold air . . . then enthusiastic hugging and being held tightly by white faces who are as dysregulated as the kids are . . . only to be taken away from the black faces they've known and loved to head in separate directions, quietly this time to a place called "home" where there they are expected to heal and nurture new relationships . . .

I can only imagine . . . (sigh)

Now, a little over a week later, we have brought another 6 home . . . and still, anxiously await the word that the last 18 are on their way . . . the Haitian Prime Minister must sign off on each child that exits Haiti now, so even though we have confirmation our kiddos are "cleared" for parole by the set standards, they cannot receive their travel documents until Jean-Max Bellerive waves his magic pen over the top of them . . . and as is true Haiti-style, there doesn't appear to be any logic or consistency in how the children are being approved.  So again, we wait.

We still remain very busy at the office (still fielding phone calls from anxious parents wanting their children home and others who are anxious to finalize the adoption of their new children here) and yes, are still working with several government offices to petition to get our children released . . . until they're all home, I'm afraid it's a never-ending job.

Please continue to pray for the children and caretakers of the Maison orphanage . . . for continued safety and protection, for their basic needs to be met, and for their emotional well-being despite the trauma . . .

Please continue to pray for the adoptive families still waiting for word on their child(ren) in Haiti . . . that they may have faith they will see a positive end result soon and that they feel comfortable continuing to trust those that are advocating on their behalf . . .

Please continue to pray for the families that already have their children at home . . . so that they may heal as a family and work together to endure the transition that must take place . . . that the children feel safe in the arms of their new families and that likewise, the families continue to open their hearts to these little ones who have much reason to be skeptical of their love . . .

Please continue to pray for those of us who work day in and out (literally) to bring the children home to their adoptive families . . . for a good attitude in the face of frustration and continued stamina in the face of pure exhaustion, so that we may remain encouraged in our work and motivated to put forth even more than we feel we have left inside . . .

Thank you all for your thoughts and prayers . . . I know they are helping and to be honest, might be the only things keeping me sane at this moment in time.  :)  I love you all.

~Kimberly

I'm going to Haiti.

Ok so I know this is last minute, and believe me, it's not the turn of events I was expecting.  But God works in mysterious ways.

After experiencing such an emotional week of highs and lows, trying to be human in my concern and yet professional in my tasks at work, using all my talents to do what I do so well with both adoptive families waiting for word about their children and information from the creche (orphanage) that things have spiraled downhill quickly as robbers have taken what they have and supplies are very low, all the while remembering the sweet faces I met and loved in October . . . I surrendered.  I came to the harsh realization that I cannot control very much at all, despite my best efforts and intentions.  So I prayed to God and offered myself up . . . "Use me," I said.  "Clearly, You've got something working here that I cannot see, and which I certainly don't want to work against.  So Lord, use me how you see fit."

Now, less than 24 hours later (and with only 5 hours notice) I'm preparing for a flight into Port-au-Prince, Haiti.  We've somehow managed to secure a private jet and have miraculously been granted permission to land at a designated time at the PAP airport.  We will be bringing a plane-full of food, water, medicines, and cooking/power supplies to the creche, to be delivered by our contacts in Haiti who again, by some miracle, we were able to touch base with on very short notice.

I shouldn't be gone more than 24 hours (as we are not granted permission to stay), but will still be doing what we can to give the children at the creche the supplies they so very much need.  Please pray for our safe travel to and from Port-au-Prince, and also, for the safe travel of the individuals meeting us at the airport to receive our goods and take them to the children.  Pray for their protection as they make their way back through the city to the creche, as there is on-site looting and highjackings going on where it is obvious that food and water are making their way through town.  (We are bringing tarps to "hide" the contents in the back of the truck.)  Also pray that the children remain safe once the supplies are delivered, and the would-be robbers stay clear away.

Today Fox News (Geraldo and Craig) were stationed at the creche for some time, sharing news about the plight of the kids.  Here is a link to the story in case you'd like to see it:

http://video.foxnews.com/v/3970697/orphans-left-without-sustenance-in-haiti

 

They also just gave another "live" update from the creche earlier this evening, showing the children sleeping on blankets and mattresses lying in the dirt.  That may be available online too, soon.  The name of the creche is "Maison des Enfants de Dieu," which means "House of Children of God".  Children of God they are, and I take comfort in knowing that He is taking care of them despite the chaos that is seemingly everywhere.

I love you all and thank you for your continued prayers and support,
~Kimberly
P.S. You can donate directly to the creche if you'd like by visiting www.haitiadoption.org

 and clicking the flashing link on the left side of the screen.  Every penny goes to the creche directly, as we cover operating expenses for our adoption program with services fees covered by adopting parents; charity donations remain strictly as such.