Introduction Part I

In June of 2005, I was sent to Shanghai, China on business for a week to finalize some fitness product details. From the moment I was told that I would be heading half way around the world, I was convinced that there was a bigger reason beyond work goals. I was excited about the adventure of it all, and I couldn't wait to see what the Lord had planned.

In the course of my time there, I found a lot of work. I met lots of people, lacked lots of sleep, and had plenty of experiences. Never once during my time in China did I get any sense of the Lord's plan or purpose. I mean, I enjoyed meeting the people and experiencing the culture (and buying Episode III for $1.10 while it was still playing in domestic movie theaters back home). Who wouldn't love having entire roomfuls of people turning to look at you and eager to talk to you? Who wouldn't enjoy the heaping, random compliments of "clever" and "handsome" of sycophants and complete strangers? Sure, it's weird initially (maybe just for me, perhaps), but you get used to it after you've been called "clever" so many times you literally lose count. Of course, I was sleep deprived, and I lost count after four, I think. Regardless, "clever" is just not a word we hear very often in the States.

There were compliments, but there was no Godly path or plan that I could see while there. Truth be told, I found myself deeply grieved. I saw things I didn't need to see, and I experienced things I could have gone without experiencing. I had conversations intended to clarify and pacify that only left me more disturbed. I found myself working with men who glorified prostitution as a pathway to quick money and wealth building. Young twenty-somethings could work (read "sell themselves") for a year and make enough money to buy a small place back home without anyone knowing about it, you see. The girls ultimately decide who they sleep with and what the terms are, so it's practically legitimate dating. Beyond that, the general role in the culture was hard for me to wrap my mind around and embrace. There was a dismissive rudeness ever present that rubbed me the wrong way.

Needless-to-say, I found myself feeling burdened and frustrated. Not willing to rock the boat, I just sat back, observed, and prayed.

And then my time in China was up. After my final frustration of having female janitors at the airport laughing at me as I tried to use a pay phone, I was on a plane headed back home without ever realizing any plan. There I was, absolutely exhausted - from lack of sleep, the pace of the trip, and the renewed commitment to flushing my system of all the caffeine I had consumed over nine straight days - but still committed to doing something with my half-conscious state. I prayed.

I prayed fervently in my mind. I talked to Him a great deal, and He talked back to me a little. The little that I got actually represents the last time I've heard the Holy Spirit so clearly that it was practically an audible voice. All He said was, "What does 'Cassidy' mean?" Well, besides meaning "curly," it also means "clever." "Cassidy" is also the name I've had picked out for a daughter since I was in my late teens, and it's the name Katie would have had had the Lord not put "Kaitlyn Grace" on my heart for her. I connected the dots immediately between that question, the compliment I'd heard so regularly while in Shanghai, and the name reserved in my heart for so long. The minute I thought "adoption," all of the ick and burden I had been feeling went away completely. I knew what Shari and I had to do.

When I got home in the wee hours of the morning (after 2:30 a.m.), I talked to Shari a mile a minute. I excitedly spoke about experiences that I hadn't been able to cover with her while there. After about an hour of that, I slipped in, "And I think we are supposed to adopt a girl from there...?" Much to my surprise, she was absolutely giddy over the idea.