In March, the first one who didn't stay came, a beautiful little girl of Central American ancestry named Faith. The call for Faith came from a hospital; her dad was an abusive drunk and her mom...wasn't around. She had been dropped and was undergoing medical care to make sure that she was alright. She was a little survivor. Faith was adorable, simply put. She would crawl around and there was nothing more happy than to sit and play with her. Faith left to go live with her aunt in Florida during July, right in the middle of summer term. There was a chance that she was going to come back in August...except she didn't. I haven't seen her since the day my family left after dropping me off at BYU. I still think about her often and was very happy to hear last month from my dad that she was doing really well. That, I think, is one of the best things about foster care; it really increases your capacity to love. I don't know if I will ever see Faith in this life, but I have faith (pun intended) that I will get to see her again someday.
The next boy was Matthias, who came...well, actually I don't remember, I just know that I met him over Thanksgiving break last semester. Matthias, simply, was cool. It's really interesting comparing him to Colin because, whereas Colin is five and barely speaks sentences, Matthias, at age two, was giving me high-fives and answering question. I mean, Matthias, whose mom is studying to be a kindergarten teacher, didn't have it near as bad as Colin did, but the fact that they seem equal in intelligence is admittedly intriguing. Over Christmas break, Matthias and I became fast friends (of my siblings, I am definitely his favorite) during our family vacation to California and I miss him. (laugh) Apparently, though, my mom is getting a bit tired of him, because Colin has had a bad influence on him and now they are both super hyper. Odds are, he will be gone before I get back in June, and I will miss him, yet it was fun and, again, I know I'll see him again...someday.
The most recent child I actually haven't met yet. His name is Nathan, my parents got him when he was five days old and he is now two months old. My dad likes to send me pictures of Nathan often and I can't wait to meet him. I've heard that he is very small for his age, only about five pounds and because of this, my mom jokes that he looks like an alien. Well, I haven't met too many aliens, but Nathan is definitely my favorite.
In Conference a few days ago, I really realized that I too want to do foster care. I've loved it and I know my family has as well. It reminds me of Dallin's Moody's devotional given a few weeks ago; when we care for others, when we invite them into our home, it sanctifies us, it gives us an added measure of love and the Spirit.
So, to anyone who years down the road might be thinking of doing foster care and/or adopting a child. Do it! Your life will be blessed, that I promise you.
Friday, April 6, 2012
Three Years Later
Three years passed during I went through that terribly trying time called middle school. Yet it wasn't all bad. I finished eighth grade with straight As and a steady spot as one of the premier runners on our eighth-grade boys cross country team. I was finally starting to break out of my shy shell, if only bit by bit. That summer I was in my first show and discovered that I like acting a lot! I was excited, albeit slightly nervous, to be entering Carson High School and all the new opportunities and challenges that would accompany it. Yet, there was one thing I didn't expect.
After having adopted J three years earlier, my parents were now sure that they were done. Five kids was plenty, yet, because the experience had been good and we were decently well off, my family decided to try foster care instead, with the stipulation that the foster children be aged three or younger. Based on the experience with J, we knew now that we had something to give to children, a way to help. For years though this had proven fruitless and no children had come into our home for more than an afternoon. Yet, kind of like with Jeremiah, one day my parents got a call and, the day after they had gotten back from a vacation/work conference in Florida, two redheaded little children, named Colin and Keira Askins (they were a brother and sister, aged 2 and 1) came to our house on my dads 39th birthday. They were born of a teenage mom in Carson City who had no desire to take care of them. In fact, the first day I met Colin, he had on a leather Harley jacket, a shirt that said "Well it seemed like a good idea at the time," and a mohawk. Yes, a two year old redhead with a mohawk. The NDHHS (Nevada Department of Health and Human Services) people said that they would only be at our house for a few months.
Colin was (and is) very interesting. He has FAS (Fetal Alcohol Syndrome) and was fed soda instead of milk. When we first got him, he had to have his front three teeth removed because they had rotted away. He still has some developmental issues and has been going to therapy the whole time we've had him. Lately, my parents have tried equine therapy, which I've heard is working. He is incredibly hyperactive unless given his medication and sometimes it is hard to understand him. He doesn't think things out much and, at age five, will still dart into the path of a moving car unless carefully watched. Keira on the other hand can talk rather well and is, for the most part, well behaved (outside usual child misbehavior).
Anyways, after three years of this experience that we were told would last for months, in 2011 we all decided that Colin and Keira were sufficiently part of our family and that it would possibly delay Colin even further if he had to go somewhere else after three years here. I mean, heck, they're my siblings and I love them, simple as that. It is just...something that you get used to. Sometimes I even forget that J was adopted in the first place. Last March, we went to the court in Carson City (the judge was actually a former member of our stake presidency whom we know rather well) and, just like Jeremiah, Colin and Keira became my siblings; after finishing summer term here at BYU, we were sealed to them in the Manti Utah temple in August. Keira is adorable and Colin...is fantastic and getting better. Jeremiah and Colin (only two years apart) fight sometimes but a few months ago Jeremiah, a happy, docile child, laughingly told me that Colin and him were simultaneously making each other more and more crazy, in a good, brotherly way.
(laugh) Not every child we have since fostered have become siblings however, though all are, in some way, a part of the family.
After having adopted J three years earlier, my parents were now sure that they were done. Five kids was plenty, yet, because the experience had been good and we were decently well off, my family decided to try foster care instead, with the stipulation that the foster children be aged three or younger. Based on the experience with J, we knew now that we had something to give to children, a way to help. For years though this had proven fruitless and no children had come into our home for more than an afternoon. Yet, kind of like with Jeremiah, one day my parents got a call and, the day after they had gotten back from a vacation/work conference in Florida, two redheaded little children, named Colin and Keira Askins (they were a brother and sister, aged 2 and 1) came to our house on my dads 39th birthday. They were born of a teenage mom in Carson City who had no desire to take care of them. In fact, the first day I met Colin, he had on a leather Harley jacket, a shirt that said "Well it seemed like a good idea at the time," and a mohawk. Yes, a two year old redhead with a mohawk. The NDHHS (Nevada Department of Health and Human Services) people said that they would only be at our house for a few months.
Colin was (and is) very interesting. He has FAS (Fetal Alcohol Syndrome) and was fed soda instead of milk. When we first got him, he had to have his front three teeth removed because they had rotted away. He still has some developmental issues and has been going to therapy the whole time we've had him. Lately, my parents have tried equine therapy, which I've heard is working. He is incredibly hyperactive unless given his medication and sometimes it is hard to understand him. He doesn't think things out much and, at age five, will still dart into the path of a moving car unless carefully watched. Keira on the other hand can talk rather well and is, for the most part, well behaved (outside usual child misbehavior).
Anyways, after three years of this experience that we were told would last for months, in 2011 we all decided that Colin and Keira were sufficiently part of our family and that it would possibly delay Colin even further if he had to go somewhere else after three years here. I mean, heck, they're my siblings and I love them, simple as that. It is just...something that you get used to. Sometimes I even forget that J was adopted in the first place. Last March, we went to the court in Carson City (the judge was actually a former member of our stake presidency whom we know rather well) and, just like Jeremiah, Colin and Keira became my siblings; after finishing summer term here at BYU, we were sealed to them in the Manti Utah temple in August. Keira is adorable and Colin...is fantastic and getting better. Jeremiah and Colin (only two years apart) fight sometimes but a few months ago Jeremiah, a happy, docile child, laughingly told me that Colin and him were simultaneously making each other more and more crazy, in a good, brotherly way.
(laugh) Not every child we have since fostered have become siblings however, though all are, in some way, a part of the family.
My Favorite Person
A couple weeks ago, when we were discussing the personal narrative assignment in class, I read an assignment sheet upon which was the line "You have had experiences that no other human being has ever had." Then yesterday it kinda hit me. If I just keep writing blog posts as I had been, it would really be more than nonsensical rambling meant to try and fill a quota that is due next week, without putting too much thought into it. Let's be honest, no one wants to read that. Essentially, I hadn't considered my audience.
But with that line, I realized that I have gone through things that no one else in this Writing 150 class has before, and that, whether I use this blog after this class is finished or not, I could write something important, something people might find legitimately interesting. What I'm saying is that I'm thinking of looking at this blog requirement more as an opportunity than as a...well, a requirement. So, with this focus in mind, I'll begin with the most important thing that I don't think many have experienced before, something rather personal.
I wanted a brother. I was nine years old and my favorite movie was "Angels in the Outfield," a story of two young boys in foster care, brothers in a sense, who soften the heart of a baseball coach, hardened by many a losing season, to find family. I could care less whether he was older or younger, all I knew was that I wanted a brother. I had three wonderful sisters at the time, yet by age nine, one really wants something to do boy things with, like play sports (even though I didn't really like sports) and go on adventures. I was very shy and I wanted a friend to play with at all hours of the day, not just when their mom brought them over.
So, in a childlike, naive way, I told my parents that I wanted a brother. They then quickly informed me that they did not plan on having any more children. Yet of course life never goes as planned and, equipped with my "Angels in the Outfield" knowledge, I replied "Well then, just adopt one!"
And, wouldn't you know it, they decided that seemed like a good idea. My mom would later say that she saw my little brother in a dream, calling her "mommy." Yet, next thing I knew, we were going to classes once a week in Auburn, CA (we lived in Roseville at the time) where my parents became certified whilst my siblings and I played in the back room with other children, me spouting my "Harry Potter" knowledge and boasting how I had read the fourth one in only a week.
I remember once, while in an adjacent room waiting for these classes to start, there was a young boy, probably about two years old, with olive skin. Due to my aforementioned shyness, I wasn't very good at talking to children my age or older and that, coupled with my younger siblings, led me to a certain love of children. I had a way of making them smile. So, for a few minutes, this little boy and I laughingly played with a roll of toilet paper (to this day, I don't know how or why that got there, but it was what we had so we played with it). Silently afterwards, I wished that my brother would be like this boy.
In May 2004, my family and I went to New York City, Palmyra, Boston, DC, and Niagara to sightsee. On the 25th, a cold Boston day, unbeknownst to me, my little brother was born in Marysville, CA.
A few months later, we got a call and drove up to visit little Jeremiah Glenn Barnett who was staying with a foster family in Gridley, about an hour and a half away. He was adorable, only a few months old, with bright blue eyes. Over the next few months, we would visit Jeremiah (or "Germy" as I affectionately called him) often until February when he got to stay with us on weekends.
Then the company my dad worked for got bought out and we were going to be moving. To keep Jeremiah, we had to stay in California or close to the border...so my dad got a great job offer in Carson City, NV, where we live to this day.
In August of 2005, we ventured to the huge, immaculately built Auburn courthouse where the judge signed the papers and Jeremiah Nicholas Favero became my little brother. Within the month, we went to the Reno Nevada Temple and Jeremiah ("J" now) became my brother forever. Jeremiah and I are ten years apart, but he is my favorite person ever. I love telling people "Yeah, I said I wanted a brother and my parents got me one, simple as that," and I can't wait to see and spend time with my brother this summer, our last summer to hang together before my mission. When one of the apostles at General Conference mentioned adoptive and foster families, I called my parents later and happily told them that they had received a shout-out in conference, that I was like "Yeah, that my parents!" when I had heard it.
Except...in the end, I didn't end up getting just one brother...(to be continued)
But with that line, I realized that I have gone through things that no one else in this Writing 150 class has before, and that, whether I use this blog after this class is finished or not, I could write something important, something people might find legitimately interesting. What I'm saying is that I'm thinking of looking at this blog requirement more as an opportunity than as a...well, a requirement. So, with this focus in mind, I'll begin with the most important thing that I don't think many have experienced before, something rather personal.
I wanted a brother. I was nine years old and my favorite movie was "Angels in the Outfield," a story of two young boys in foster care, brothers in a sense, who soften the heart of a baseball coach, hardened by many a losing season, to find family. I could care less whether he was older or younger, all I knew was that I wanted a brother. I had three wonderful sisters at the time, yet by age nine, one really wants something to do boy things with, like play sports (even though I didn't really like sports) and go on adventures. I was very shy and I wanted a friend to play with at all hours of the day, not just when their mom brought them over.
So, in a childlike, naive way, I told my parents that I wanted a brother. They then quickly informed me that they did not plan on having any more children. Yet of course life never goes as planned and, equipped with my "Angels in the Outfield" knowledge, I replied "Well then, just adopt one!"
And, wouldn't you know it, they decided that seemed like a good idea. My mom would later say that she saw my little brother in a dream, calling her "mommy." Yet, next thing I knew, we were going to classes once a week in Auburn, CA (we lived in Roseville at the time) where my parents became certified whilst my siblings and I played in the back room with other children, me spouting my "Harry Potter" knowledge and boasting how I had read the fourth one in only a week.
I remember once, while in an adjacent room waiting for these classes to start, there was a young boy, probably about two years old, with olive skin. Due to my aforementioned shyness, I wasn't very good at talking to children my age or older and that, coupled with my younger siblings, led me to a certain love of children. I had a way of making them smile. So, for a few minutes, this little boy and I laughingly played with a roll of toilet paper (to this day, I don't know how or why that got there, but it was what we had so we played with it). Silently afterwards, I wished that my brother would be like this boy.
In May 2004, my family and I went to New York City, Palmyra, Boston, DC, and Niagara to sightsee. On the 25th, a cold Boston day, unbeknownst to me, my little brother was born in Marysville, CA.
A few months later, we got a call and drove up to visit little Jeremiah Glenn Barnett who was staying with a foster family in Gridley, about an hour and a half away. He was adorable, only a few months old, with bright blue eyes. Over the next few months, we would visit Jeremiah (or "Germy" as I affectionately called him) often until February when he got to stay with us on weekends.
Then the company my dad worked for got bought out and we were going to be moving. To keep Jeremiah, we had to stay in California or close to the border...so my dad got a great job offer in Carson City, NV, where we live to this day.
In August of 2005, we ventured to the huge, immaculately built Auburn courthouse where the judge signed the papers and Jeremiah Nicholas Favero became my little brother. Within the month, we went to the Reno Nevada Temple and Jeremiah ("J" now) became my brother forever. Jeremiah and I are ten years apart, but he is my favorite person ever. I love telling people "Yeah, I said I wanted a brother and my parents got me one, simple as that," and I can't wait to see and spend time with my brother this summer, our last summer to hang together before my mission. When one of the apostles at General Conference mentioned adoptive and foster families, I called my parents later and happily told them that they had received a shout-out in conference, that I was like "Yeah, that my parents!" when I had heard it.
Except...in the end, I didn't end up getting just one brother...(to be continued)
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
What is a Blog?
So, in need of blog posts, I Googled "perfect blog post" to try and learn how. I had just written something about music but didn't post it because in class we discussed that blog posts should be short and not rambling. I quickly realized that I was making a public thought-journal which, as far as I know, is not the purpose of the blogging assignment. After checking the syllabus and finding not much relating to the subject, I then Googled "difference between blog and facebook" and, to my shock, discovered that blog is short for Web Log, which the answerers on WikiAnswers said is essentially on online journal.
So...online journal....well, to be honest, I've never had a journal so here goes nothing. A couple weeks ago I went to the Festival of Colors at the Krishna Temple in Spanish Fork with my summer roommate Brandon and my friends Dallin, Haley, and Kaytee. The traffic was backed up for miles and we laughingly considered how odd it must be for the normally-quiet little city. When we at last got there, I saw people coming back and thought that this must be the Utah equivalent of Woodstock. Within a couple hours I was completely drenched with thrown color and, gosh, it was SO AWESOME! For a guy who had never been allowed to dye his hair (my parents always worried that it wouldn't come out) I am most happy to report that my golden locks had turned a wonderful shade of purple. Overall, a completely fantastic time and I cannot wait to go next year.
So...online journal....well, to be honest, I've never had a journal so here goes nothing. A couple weeks ago I went to the Festival of Colors at the Krishna Temple in Spanish Fork with my summer roommate Brandon and my friends Dallin, Haley, and Kaytee. The traffic was backed up for miles and we laughingly considered how odd it must be for the normally-quiet little city. When we at last got there, I saw people coming back and thought that this must be the Utah equivalent of Woodstock. Within a couple hours I was completely drenched with thrown color and, gosh, it was SO AWESOME! For a guy who had never been allowed to dye his hair (my parents always worried that it wouldn't come out) I am most happy to report that my golden locks had turned a wonderful shade of purple. Overall, a completely fantastic time and I cannot wait to go next year.
"You are More than what You have Become"
"If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God. Set your affection on things above, not on things on the earth." -Colossians 3:1-2.
A few months ago, during my first visit to the Provo Temple while studying at BYU, I was led to read Elder Carl B. Cook's October 2011 conference message about remembering to look up. The central theme of this talk is that looking heavenward makes us happier. We spend so much time looking sideways at what others think of us that we rarely take the time to look up and see what God thinks of us which, in reality, is what really matters. This point really impressed me and has been on my mind ever since.
This past weekend was another FANTASTIC general conference. Many good talks were given by such great orators as Dieter F. Uchtdorf, Jeffrey R. Holland, and, of course, our beloved prophet President Thomas S. Monson. Yet two that also particularly piqued my attention were those by Neil L. Andersen and O. Vincent Haleck. Both seem to revolve around a shared message similar to Elder Cook's six months earlier. Elder Andersen asked: What thinks Christ of me? Haleck questioned what Christ, the Savior, saw within those three poor fishermen whom would become prophets of God and what He might likewise see in each of us.
I have always loved the truth that God has a vision for each of us, the idea that we each have a marvelous destiny that, so long as we do as He would have us do, we can become even more than any of us could possibly imagine. Haleck states that "When we emulate him, we can see a vision of whom we can become." Just think of it, to become like Christ! How amazing that would be!
Sometimes, however, we don't think of ourselves in such a way. Sometimes, we lose sight of this in the midst of all that life continually throws at us. Haleck warns that we must not let this happen, for "Where there is no vision, people perish." We truly need not fear because, as Anderson reassures "Whether in this life or the next, all will be made right."
Andersen then pleads and admonishes us to ask ourselves, "Does my life reflect the Love and Devotion that I feel for the Savior? Remember that all things are possible to him (or her) that believeth. We each have the sufficient capacity to do what He would have us do and be our best self. We each can try our hardest and that will be enough to Him. We must, as Haleck proclaims, "have the faith to do."
The apostles, when asked by our Savior if they too would leave him, answered simply, "To whom shalt we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life." There is a divine destiny for each of us, an inspired path by which we can each return to Him with those we love. He sees in us potential. He sees in us someone worth saving, someone who can make a difference. He sees us as friends, as he says in the New Testament. He wants us to return. He loves us, and no matter what the world thinks of us, if the very powers of hell assault us with "their shafts in the whirlwinds," he will be there and that, more than anything else, is what really matters.
Remember, look up. Smile. Show love as he would.
A few months ago, during my first visit to the Provo Temple while studying at BYU, I was led to read Elder Carl B. Cook's October 2011 conference message about remembering to look up. The central theme of this talk is that looking heavenward makes us happier. We spend so much time looking sideways at what others think of us that we rarely take the time to look up and see what God thinks of us which, in reality, is what really matters. This point really impressed me and has been on my mind ever since.
This past weekend was another FANTASTIC general conference. Many good talks were given by such great orators as Dieter F. Uchtdorf, Jeffrey R. Holland, and, of course, our beloved prophet President Thomas S. Monson. Yet two that also particularly piqued my attention were those by Neil L. Andersen and O. Vincent Haleck. Both seem to revolve around a shared message similar to Elder Cook's six months earlier. Elder Andersen asked: What thinks Christ of me? Haleck questioned what Christ, the Savior, saw within those three poor fishermen whom would become prophets of God and what He might likewise see in each of us.
I have always loved the truth that God has a vision for each of us, the idea that we each have a marvelous destiny that, so long as we do as He would have us do, we can become even more than any of us could possibly imagine. Haleck states that "When we emulate him, we can see a vision of whom we can become." Just think of it, to become like Christ! How amazing that would be!
Sometimes, however, we don't think of ourselves in such a way. Sometimes, we lose sight of this in the midst of all that life continually throws at us. Haleck warns that we must not let this happen, for "Where there is no vision, people perish." We truly need not fear because, as Anderson reassures "Whether in this life or the next, all will be made right."
Andersen then pleads and admonishes us to ask ourselves, "Does my life reflect the Love and Devotion that I feel for the Savior? Remember that all things are possible to him (or her) that believeth. We each have the sufficient capacity to do what He would have us do and be our best self. We each can try our hardest and that will be enough to Him. We must, as Haleck proclaims, "have the faith to do."
The apostles, when asked by our Savior if they too would leave him, answered simply, "To whom shalt we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life." There is a divine destiny for each of us, an inspired path by which we can each return to Him with those we love. He sees in us potential. He sees in us someone worth saving, someone who can make a difference. He sees us as friends, as he says in the New Testament. He wants us to return. He loves us, and no matter what the world thinks of us, if the very powers of hell assault us with "their shafts in the whirlwinds," he will be there and that, more than anything else, is what really matters.
Remember, look up. Smile. Show love as he would.
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