It just might save a little girl (just like YOURS and MINE) from being raped as a sex slave to dirty old eveil men-THAT WHAT!

It can save a little girl, just like my own, from being stripped of every ounce of her childhood and dignity by a monster preying on her.

It can act as a symbol of my responsibility as a father to protect my daughters and to protect other children.

How will you answer it? What will you do?

Signed copies of Scared by Tom Davis will be given to the first 10 responses!!

A FREE necklace!! We will do a drawing with all those who enter their repsonse.

1. Post your answer in the response section of this post

2. Post this question and your answer on Facebook, urge others to ask themseleves what they can do.

PURCHASE NECKLACE NOW

One day, a group of professional looking, wealthy women came to the school and interviewed the girls for the best jobs in Russia. 

They were promised fancy clothes, expensive jewelry, and all the money they could hope for if they were selected.

Masha was chosen, and she thought her dreams had come true.

She was taken to the city center, put in a rundown apartment and beaten.

They forced her to work in a strip club.  Then, they told some men were coming to her apartment to train her to learn how to have sex with a man–how to “please” him.

“You’ll be pleasing 10 men each day,” they said.

Masha quickly realized this dream had turned into a ugly nightmare. She was hours away from entering the sex trade. The life of a forced prostitute awaited her, and she was scared to death.

While this was unfolding, she remembered the staff at Children’s HopeChest. “Could they help me?”

She told me how she remembered how much our staff cared for her and other orphans. She knew exactly where to go. She had a plan. She walked out the door and ran to the HopeChest Ministry Center in Kostroma.

Our staff immediately called the authorities, and brought her to a safe place to live so she’d be protected.

It is young girls like Masha we are supporting with this Mother’s Day necklace fundraiser. When you purchase a necklace, a young women like Masha will recieve  two weeks of direct assistance like food, clothing, etc. for her and her baby.

BUY NOW

At AdoptionFathers.com we recognize not every family has been blessed with God’s great calling to adopt a child into their own home.  However, we also recognize the many different faces and meaning of adoption and that every man (every man Pete?) yes every man my brother, has been called to be a father to the fatherless.  In other words every man is called to adopt in one way shape or form! 

The Scary Truth In Eastern Europe

In Moldova today, countless young girls are forced into the sex trade and over 30,000 women have literally disappeared.

• Over 10 percent are under 18 years old, some as young as 12 years old.
• There are over 250 brothels in the capital city of Chisinau and one of the greatest targets for sex-trafficking are girls who leave the orphanages.
• One of the main ways girls get trapped is attempting to escape from the country for a better life abroad.
• The opportunities are few and women long for a better life. This is the perfect environment for a trafficker. That life is promised to them by a company who offers, “great salaries” in England, America, Germany, etc. They sign up, get on a plane, and that’s when the nightmare begins.

In Russia today, nearly 40% of orphans are the children or grandchildren of orphans. In Russia, orphans “graduate” from the orphanage at the tender age of 15 or 16 and are forced to make their way in world for which they are ill equipped. At this juncture, they become critically vulnerable. In fact:

• 70% of girls enter the sex trade
• 40% become drug users
• 40% commit crimes
• 15% commit suicide

Little is in place in Moldovan and Russian society to stop this trend – so what can be done?
 

Jesus Christ Is The Answer & Children’s HopeChest Has A Way

Stop the Secret, Support Moldova:

Help victims of sex trafficking. HopeChest is launching a ministry to victims of sex trafficking in Moldova. They are working with local ministries who are helping bring healing to girls rescued from brothels. There are four young women in two different safe houses in Moldova who need our help right now. These brave young women were rescued, and now are embarking upon the long and difficult journey to healing. The aftercare programs provide round-the-clock care, protection, medical care, and counseling.

Young Mother’s Program, Russia:

When orphans are released from the orphanage in their early teen years, they enter a critically vulnerable time. In the case of the women supported by this campaign, they find themselves pregnant and alone. Still children themselves, they have nowhere to go. That is where HopeChest comes into the picture, providing Christian discipleship, direct assistance, training, community building, and intensive counseling and casework. Through this outreach, their staff can demonstrate the love of Christ in action, and use it as a tool to instill Christian qualities and disciplines in the girls and their children. 100% of the moms currently in the program are raising healthy young children and breaking the cycle of orphans producing more orphans.

The Answer Is You  & Me

Join us this Mothers Day and together we can Break The Chain of sex trafficking and orphanhood.  Buy a limited edition Mothers Day necklace and 100% of the proceeds will go towards supporting these amazing programs.  

Click on image to purchase now.

Thank you for your support!

Each Christmas brings with it a story that is often told yet rarely truly heard – a story of an adopted baby (adopted by his father Joseph) who came into the earth in the most humble of circumstances, yet ultimately proved Himself to be the Light of the world.

This Christmas I’d like to share a story about another adopted baby who came into this world in the most humble of circumstances, yet ultimately has proven herself to be the light of her father’s eyes. This story represents merely a fraction of my own life experience, but has evolved into such a prominent part of my life story. My purpose for writing this Christmas story is the hope that in some small way it will bless your Christmas season as much as it has blessed mine.

This story explores the life of a child, just like yours, except for the fact that she was born into poverty. There are two main components to the tale – what is, and what might have been. Clearly any discussion about ‘what might have been’ is by definition speculative and therefore fiction. So let me call out the fact that while this story is fiction – it is based on facts. Much like a CSI detective must put the pieces of a crime together based on both hard facts and circumstantial evidence, I assembled this story based on a combination of my own first hand facts, personal investigation and research while in Africa, as well as the experience and stories of other adoptive parents who have encountered similar circumstances. The result is story that is fiction yet very real at the same time.

Who Is To Blame?

Like THE Christmas story, this story starts with the birth of a baby. Just over two years ago, in September 2007, a beautiful young mother gives her first birth to an equally beautiful baby girl. Born into the cold clenches of poverty – on a dusty old bed in the one and only room of a tin can shack in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia – the baby girl rests her almond shaped eyes, as her bundled body lays unaware of her meager surroundings and her odds of surviving until her fifth birthday. In spite of their brutal circumstances, the baby’s mother radiates with joy and relief at the sight of her new baby, the spitting image of her mother. The joy of her baby’s birth overshadows the fact that the ‘relations’ which led to this very moment were never welcomed – now she is sick, she is poor, but at least for the time being she is not alone….

Several weeks go by and the reality of her situation settles in. Her joy has melted away faster than an April snowfall, though little hope of spring blossoms exist on her horizon. She is unable to provide for her child’s basic needs, she is hungry and her child’s primary source of nutrition is drying up as a result. Her government has little support to offer her and the countless others like her. As a woman with limited education, her choices to earn enough Birr (Ethiopian currency) for her new family to survive are extremely limited and for a brief moment she considers selling her only personal asset, but even her daughter’s hunger is not enough to convince her to cross through the dark threshold of prostitution.

The days pass by and though her situation deteriorates, she still struggles to reach a seemingly inevitable decision. One morning at the break of dawn she is finally brought to her knees by the weight of her anguish and emotional burden – she is broken, her hands and knees are firmly planted in the dirt floor of her home and she looks up through the tin roof into the morning sky and prays to a God that she hardly even knew – until now. She feels His compassionate response and listens intently to His direction. Comforted by His wisdom and counseling she finds herself at peace – for she now knows that she is not to blame and she knows what she must do.

Goodbye

Later that night at the outer gates of the Addis Ababa Sheraton she begins her final good bye. She’s chosen one of the finest hotels in all of Africa to offer her daughter a chance at a better life. She spent a number of months as a maid at the hotel and is keenly aware of the regular security details around the perimeter of the grounds. She also knows about their significant experience working with local authorities while dealing with ‘abandoned’ children on their property. But make no mistake about this ‘abandonment – hers is an act of devotion, heroism and Love.

Her dark brown eyes, swollen from the steady stream of afternoon tears, possess a look of focus and purpose as she goes about the most challenging event any mother could ever face – giving her baby UP in the hope of a better life. Her falling tears spread across her baby’s face creating an almost angelic appearance as the distant flood lights shimmer on her little girl’s brown cheeks. “I will always love you sweet girl – and I promise that I will see you again some day”.

As she walks away from her now orphaned baby, her grief is consoled by a welling up of peace, hope and faith within her aching heart. She is at peace with her decision, she has hope that her daughter will have a better life, and she has faith that her new found God will find someone who loves her little girl as much as she does…..

End Part I

This video was taken from within our bus, moments after we struck and killed a small cow (originally reported to be a goat). Now my PETA brothers and sisters may think us heartless, but I’m sorry, this was hilarious and provided a much needed reprieve from the heart breaking scene we experienced at the Kumbolcha Care Point facility:

This next video was shot as we were crossing over a treacherous mountain pass in the fog and mud of an unpaved road. The video doesn’t really do justice to the minimal margin for error we had between safety and disaster. We may have been laughing in this video but trust me, it was scary…

This next video was shot in the middle of a tunnel (Ethiopians call this it a cave which is probably a better description), no lights, no pavement and potholes the size of boulders.

Finally the next video was part of an air guitar/drum session we had with the kids at Hope For The Hopeless. Chris Tomlin’s ‘God Of Our City’ song proved to be a lead track on our trip soundtrack. Check out the looks on the kids faces – they were so into this impromptu jam session. Also, take note of the scars on the head of the boy holding the music player – we are left to wonder about the cause.

We left our guest house in Addis Ababa at 10:30 am yesterday, and I arrived home at about 10:30 am today. A 24 hour trek that was about as smooth and uneventful as I could have possibly hoped – a sharp contrast to the exciting twists and turns that we experienced abroad.

For now it is time to rest, recover and to be with my amazing wife and three children. After the last 10 days I can honestly say that I am wiped out both physically and emotionally. Tonight, for just one night, I want to my mind to stop processing all that I saw, heard, touched and smelled over the past 240 hours.

I don’t want to see the scars on the scalp of the otherwise handsome street child who was abused in a way that you and I can’t even fathom. Or the picture of kids eating grass to fill their stomach’s in some way to ease their hunger pain.

I don’t want to hear another heartbreaking story by an orphanage director about how their kids are hungry and their parents are dying. Or the haunting and ever persistent voices of the children in the streets begging for food or money to survive.

I don’t want to think about feeling the bones protruding through the skin of the kids at Grace Baptist Church in Kumbulcha.

I don’t want to think about the toxic smell of the stream directly behind the Kind Heart Care Point facility that nearly sent me vomiting (truly the most disgusting odor that I’ve experienced). Or the inescapable fumes of the diesel engines that dominate the streets of Addis Ababa.

For tonight, selfishly, I just want to be home.

But I can not….

My mind can not stop thinking, seeing, hearing, feeling, and smelling all that was – because it still is – and is to be – unless we do something about it. Just because I’m 10,000 miles away doesn’t mean it’s gone away. Does it? Just because I’m a resident of a different continent doesn’t mean it’s someone else’s responsibility. Does it? Just because the children aren’t in our direct line of sight doesn’t mean we have an excuse. Do we?

It is good to be home tonight. It is so very good to be with my family. And at the same time I can honestly say that in my mind I’ve already started planning for my next trip.

If you were at all touched by what you read on this blog over the past week, I sincerely hope that you’ll at least consider joining me. If there is something inside of you that knows that you are being called to do something I would love to share this life changing experience with you – life changing for you and for the kids that we will have the privilege to impact. Contact me at pkidd@resultedge.com

Thank you for your consideration, thank you for all of your prayers and support. Good night.

Today was another jammed packed day. We got up this morning and headed to a town called Wiloso, a mostly Muslim community located about two hours south of Addis Ababa. While there we visited the Wiloso Immanuel Orphanage – a facility that cares for 43 orphaned children (25 boys and 18 girls). This place is unique than any of our other visits in that it was situated in the middle of expansive farm land with (an estimated) 3 plus acres of their own land. While the setting for this facility was different than others we visited, their urgent need was no different. A couple of things stuck out to me about this place:

1) Babies. They had three of them there and they are not equipped to handle these babies (no diapers, no formula ) can you imagine? One of the babies was brought in by her mother, a fifteen year old girl who was unable to care for a baby she never wanted – she was raped. The mother stayed in the orphanage for a short while (after all she was just a kid herself) but eventually fled. Another one of the babies was clearly malnourished, they claimed she was one month old, she was about the size of a one month old, but clearly she was exhibiting signs of at least a three month old. I guess you can say that malnourishment distorts time. The babies had no mosquito nets on their beds and Malaria is ever present in this part of Ethiopia.

2) Children. The kids in the orphanage were so laid back – just really enjoyable and almost relaxing to be around. We played volleyball, hacky sack and soccer with them and they had a great time. At one point my friend Shilo had most of the girls huddled up under a makeshift umbrella (for shade) and we played music for them on a portable ipod speaker. It wasn’t long before twenty kids were huddled around the ipod – they just loved it! We listed to an Ethiopian Gospel signer by the name of Sophia (thanks to my Ethiopian friend Ted back in the states). It was just so enjoyable to observe them consume every note like it was a fine wine. Then is was their turn – we all piled into their on site church (a converted barn) and the kids led and unbelievable worship service. As with a lot of things around here, it’s difficult to put words on certain experiences. How do you explain a room full of kids with no parents (dead or otherwise), with limited food, 3 mile walk to school each day (one way), mosquito nets with holes the size of a DVD – signing worship songs and praising God from the bottom of their hearts? Why aren’t they angry at God? No musical equipment except the sound of their voice and a small drum – yet they filled the room with as much (or more) worship as any 6 piece praise band? How do they do that? What can I learn from them? What could you learn from them now?

I am humbled by the experience… 

Thank you all for continuing to follow along and pray for me and this team. I really appreciate your support.

- Pete

p.s. We stopped for lunch at a lodge that had wild monkeys all over the place. I don’t know about you but monkeys kind of creep me out. However, I knew my daughter Isabelle would have been so disappointed if I didn’t get as close as I possibly could. So I allowed one of them to eat cranberries out of my hand – then followed up with huge dose of hand sanitizer. 

No Isabelle, I’m not bringing one home.

- Daddy

This is an excerpt from a worship service that the orphans conducted on our behalf – it was the most exhilarating service that I’ve experienced in quite a long time.