Our Divinely Designed Family
Every family has a story and that story needs to be told. For most families it gets told as everyone is gathered around holiday dinner tables or sitting in lawn chairs sipping lemonade at family reunions. We pass our stories on to each generation so they know they belong to something larger than themselves. That is why Kate and Mark Skidmore wrote their family’s story. They wanted each of their children to know how their family was formed through love and some divine nudging. (Ok. It was a little more than nudging!)
I know their story because I went to high school with Kate. We were on the same softball team. She was the feisty second baseman and I cheered her on from the bench. I first met Kate’s family about eight years when they came back to a softball game at the high school. It was easy to assume that she and her husband adopted at least two of their children. What I didn’t know at the time was the incredible story they had to tell about finding and adopting their two daughters from Uganda.
Kate and Mark wrote their story down and published it for others to be inspired both to tell their family’s own unique story but also to encourage others to be open to adoption. The Invitation: An Adoptive Family’s Memoir by Kate and Mark Skidmore is their story. The first thing you notice about this couple is that they have a deep faith in God and know that God is working through them. That faith carried them through times of frustration and helped them keep moving forward even as road blocks were placed in front of them.
Kate and Mark saw a picture of two Ugandan orphan girls – just by chance – on a bulletin board in a relative’s home in a small town in Wisconsin. It was those two girls that kept “calling to” Kate and that she and Mark eventually adopted. Their story is amazing. I think for most families, who have gone through the process of international adoption, it will sound very familiar. They struggled with a significant language barrier, cultural differences, political problems (both corrupt and simply bureaucratic), and issues of parenting new children. Kate and Mark tell the story of parenting the girls only knowing about four or five Ugandan words. They were in the town of Entebbe, Uganda trying to finish the paperwork for the girls so they could all fly home to Wisconsin. It is hard enough comforting a scared child even without the complication of a lack of communication. Kate and Mark’s hearts were heavy as they were also missing their three young children who were back in the States staying with Kate’s mom.
This is a story of faith, courage and family. They called their memoir The Invitation for many reasons. They definitely remember the moment when they saw the picture of their two girls on a bulletin board and were literally invited to consider adoption for their family. They also know that God is
inviting us to extend ourselves to others every day. “In documenting our story, we hope to heighten sensitivity to the invitations presented in the lives of others so that they will be moved to join God in his work; to experience the abundance that comes from taking steps in faith.”
I highly recommend reading their story!
~ Pam
I know their story because I went to high school with Kate. We were on the same softball team. She was the feisty second baseman and I cheered her on from the bench. I first met Kate’s family about eight years when they came back to a softball game at the high school. It was easy to assume that she and her husband adopted at least two of their children. What I didn’t know at the time was the incredible story they had to tell about finding and adopting their two daughters from Uganda.
Kate and Mark wrote their story down and published it for others to be inspired both to tell their family’s own unique story but also to encourage others to be open to adoption. The Invitation: An Adoptive Family’s Memoir by Kate and Mark Skidmore is their story. The first thing you notice about this couple is that they have a deep faith in God and know that God is working through them. That faith carried them through times of frustration and helped them keep moving forward even as road blocks were placed in front of them.
Kate and Mark saw a picture of two Ugandan orphan girls – just by chance – on a bulletin board in a relative’s home in a small town in Wisconsin. It was those two girls that kept “calling to” Kate and that she and Mark eventually adopted. Their story is amazing. I think for most families, who have gone through the process of international adoption, it will sound very familiar. They struggled with a significant language barrier, cultural differences, political problems (both corrupt and simply bureaucratic), and issues of parenting new children. Kate and Mark tell the story of parenting the girls only knowing about four or five Ugandan words. They were in the town of Entebbe, Uganda trying to finish the paperwork for the girls so they could all fly home to Wisconsin. It is hard enough comforting a scared child even without the complication of a lack of communication. Kate and Mark’s hearts were heavy as they were also missing their three young children who were back in the States staying with Kate’s mom.
This is a story of faith, courage and family. They called their memoir The Invitation for many reasons. They definitely remember the moment when they saw the picture of their two girls on a bulletin board and were literally invited to consider adoption for their family. They also know that God is
inviting us to extend ourselves to others every day. “In documenting our story, we hope to heighten sensitivity to the invitations presented in the lives of others so that they will be moved to join God in his work; to experience the abundance that comes from taking steps in faith.”
I highly recommend reading their story!
~ Pam
Andrea and Louie
I am Louie’s person.
As I grew up, my family had two dogs. Casey joined our family when I was little. When my parents brought him home: Casey bulldozed me, I fell on my butt, fell in love, and the rest was history. Casey lived a long happy life chasing tennis balls. Nine years ago my family got Charlie the beagle. He was crazy. We brought him into our family and made a commitment to take care of him. Now Charlie is living the good life with my parents in the suburbs.
Four years after graduating college, I quit my glamorous but very low-paying job to begin graduate school. The plan was to move to Wisconsin and live completely on my own for the first time - no parents, no roommates. About a week before my scheduled move, I was browsing through photos of dogs on adoption websites - like so many dog lovers do. A photo popped up, and my heart dropped. I immediately called the number under the dog’s photo and told them that I would be there after work. This was my dog.
The shelter was a good hour from the city, but I got there in no time. I stood on the back porch as they went to get the puppy that I had seen in
the picture. He came barreling towards me. The woman at the shelter told me that his litter had been found on the side of the road. His brothers didn’t make it, but this little guy pulled through. He had been adopted a few weeks earlier, but the family brought him back after realizing they couldn’t handle a puppy. I told her, “No, it’s because he was still waiting for his mom.”
Louie and I spent two years in Wisconsin, pulling all-nighters and eating dinner out of take-out boxes. As my fearless protector, he barked away any sounds he didn’t trust. Louie came everywhere with me: weekend errands, countless trips back and forth to Chicago, road trips to Florida, North Carolina, St. Louis, and Michigan. When a long-term relationship came to a very sad end, Louie was at my side. He laid his fluffy head on my lap, and he reminded me that I wasn’t alone and I would be just fine.
And you know what? Eventually, I was just fine.
Louie is about five-and-a-half-years-old now. And it’s not just me and Louie anymore. We added a boyfriend and even a new puppy to our home. But the bond between Louie and I is incomparable.
Somewhere along the way, Louie taught me how to be a grown-up. Louie has instilled in me how to be the friend, companion, and partner that I strive to be in all aspects of my life. I’ve become responsible and dependable. I have learned selflessness and accountability. I’ve become loving, generous, and nurturing in ways I didn’t know I was capable.
It’s amazing what our pets teach us with no effort at all. They spend their short lives with bated breath at our every move. They provide us with love and laughter, and sometimes even bring us closer to one another. They give us strength, and with them, we grow into better humans.
John Grogan, author of Marley and Me wrote, “A dog has no use for fancy cars, big homes, or designer clothes... A dog doesn't care if you're rich or
poor, clever or dull, smart or dumb. Give him your heart, and he'll give you his.”
I’m Louie’s person. He counts on me. And I’ve learned what an honorable role that truly is.
~ Andrea Voves
As I grew up, my family had two dogs. Casey joined our family when I was little. When my parents brought him home: Casey bulldozed me, I fell on my butt, fell in love, and the rest was history. Casey lived a long happy life chasing tennis balls. Nine years ago my family got Charlie the beagle. He was crazy. We brought him into our family and made a commitment to take care of him. Now Charlie is living the good life with my parents in the suburbs.
Four years after graduating college, I quit my glamorous but very low-paying job to begin graduate school. The plan was to move to Wisconsin and live completely on my own for the first time - no parents, no roommates. About a week before my scheduled move, I was browsing through photos of dogs on adoption websites - like so many dog lovers do. A photo popped up, and my heart dropped. I immediately called the number under the dog’s photo and told them that I would be there after work. This was my dog.
The shelter was a good hour from the city, but I got there in no time. I stood on the back porch as they went to get the puppy that I had seen in
the picture. He came barreling towards me. The woman at the shelter told me that his litter had been found on the side of the road. His brothers didn’t make it, but this little guy pulled through. He had been adopted a few weeks earlier, but the family brought him back after realizing they couldn’t handle a puppy. I told her, “No, it’s because he was still waiting for his mom.”
Louie and I spent two years in Wisconsin, pulling all-nighters and eating dinner out of take-out boxes. As my fearless protector, he barked away any sounds he didn’t trust. Louie came everywhere with me: weekend errands, countless trips back and forth to Chicago, road trips to Florida, North Carolina, St. Louis, and Michigan. When a long-term relationship came to a very sad end, Louie was at my side. He laid his fluffy head on my lap, and he reminded me that I wasn’t alone and I would be just fine.
And you know what? Eventually, I was just fine.
Louie is about five-and-a-half-years-old now. And it’s not just me and Louie anymore. We added a boyfriend and even a new puppy to our home. But the bond between Louie and I is incomparable.
Somewhere along the way, Louie taught me how to be a grown-up. Louie has instilled in me how to be the friend, companion, and partner that I strive to be in all aspects of my life. I’ve become responsible and dependable. I have learned selflessness and accountability. I’ve become loving, generous, and nurturing in ways I didn’t know I was capable.
It’s amazing what our pets teach us with no effort at all. They spend their short lives with bated breath at our every move. They provide us with love and laughter, and sometimes even bring us closer to one another. They give us strength, and with them, we grow into better humans.
John Grogan, author of Marley and Me wrote, “A dog has no use for fancy cars, big homes, or designer clothes... A dog doesn't care if you're rich or
poor, clever or dull, smart or dumb. Give him your heart, and he'll give you his.”
I’m Louie’s person. He counts on me. And I’ve learned what an honorable role that truly is.
~ Andrea Voves
A Summer Filled with Family
“How was your summer? Did you take any trips?”
Every year I love answering these questions since I look forward to the extra time I get to spend with my family once summer rolls around. Some years I’ve been able to answer with tales of interesting and faraway places, but this year I’ve been thrilled to answer, “Yes! We went to Minnesota and Wisconsin to see family and friends.” Many people nod, an instant understanding. And some people respond with half-hearted smiles and vacant stares, likely noting my low threshold for travel excitement. (Mmmm….Really? You didn’t even leave the Midwest?)
But this summer I needed to check in with cousins who now live around the world, cousins I grew up close to emotionally if not geographically – people I’m lucky to claim are the basis of so many strong, hilarious, and lasting memories. I enjoyed watching my husband connect with these same cousins as well as so many other relatives we hadn’t seen in a while. But mostly I loved watching my nine year-old daughter laugh and play and be silly with all the kids and adults she calls family. Family whose foundation is in the church she also calls home. And I needed her to watch me so immersed in the whole scene, sharing our roots together.
I needed these things particularly this summer after losing my childhood best friend recently – she was really more a sister - and finding myself yearning to spend time with as many familiar and familial faces as I could. Her memory, along with my faith, my family, and my friends continue to give me comfort. All are constant reminders of the value of life.
No fancy hotels on this trip - we stayed with relatives and friends in four different homes during our nine-day jaunt. Our final stop was my in-laws’ house near Milwaukee. We helped throw a 100th birthday party for my husband’s grandma – an event I know Grace understands is special, but one I also know she’ll appreciate even more the older she gets. Pictures don’t do justice to four generations posing together, smiling, feeling their place in the world.
A good summer indeed.
~ Rachel Gannon
Every year I love answering these questions since I look forward to the extra time I get to spend with my family once summer rolls around. Some years I’ve been able to answer with tales of interesting and faraway places, but this year I’ve been thrilled to answer, “Yes! We went to Minnesota and Wisconsin to see family and friends.” Many people nod, an instant understanding. And some people respond with half-hearted smiles and vacant stares, likely noting my low threshold for travel excitement. (Mmmm….Really? You didn’t even leave the Midwest?)
But this summer I needed to check in with cousins who now live around the world, cousins I grew up close to emotionally if not geographically – people I’m lucky to claim are the basis of so many strong, hilarious, and lasting memories. I enjoyed watching my husband connect with these same cousins as well as so many other relatives we hadn’t seen in a while. But mostly I loved watching my nine year-old daughter laugh and play and be silly with all the kids and adults she calls family. Family whose foundation is in the church she also calls home. And I needed her to watch me so immersed in the whole scene, sharing our roots together.
I needed these things particularly this summer after losing my childhood best friend recently – she was really more a sister - and finding myself yearning to spend time with as many familiar and familial faces as I could. Her memory, along with my faith, my family, and my friends continue to give me comfort. All are constant reminders of the value of life.
No fancy hotels on this trip - we stayed with relatives and friends in four different homes during our nine-day jaunt. Our final stop was my in-laws’ house near Milwaukee. We helped throw a 100th birthday party for my husband’s grandma – an event I know Grace understands is special, but one I also know she’ll appreciate even more the older she gets. Pictures don’t do justice to four generations posing together, smiling, feeling their place in the world.
A good summer indeed.
~ Rachel Gannon