We have 4 children, all of them adopted. I have always felt that they were ours, even if their method of getting to us was a little unconventional. After reading your books, I am even more certain, this was arranged before we came to earth!
In 1994 we were prompted to seek more children, and prompted further that we needed to adopt from Russia. We discovered that doors for adoption from Russia were limited, and there were only three agencies, which were still able to get children out of Russia. Foreign adoptions are extremely complicated and backlogged in Red Tape. However, we had been working on the paperwork for many months and we were now ready to submit our application with a new agency that could work with Russia. After all the paperwork was done, the actual assignment was surprisingly quick. Within a month, we were scheduled to fly to Russia to adopt a three-year-old boy.
Just a couple weeks before we were to fly, I had a dream about a little girl, and the message was that we also needed to adopt her. I saw her in the Russian orphanage playing with the little boy we were going to adopt. Her name was Elena. She had long brown hair, worn in braids, and looked to be about six or seven.
When adopting from Russia, we were told to bring little toys, and candy not only for the child we were adopting, but also for the other orphanage children; and also to bring clothes, because they would leave only with the clothes on their back. So sure was I that things would work out and that we would be able to adopt this additional girl, that I bought clothes and toys for her, too. I also had our child’s passport permission changed to show that we could bring home two children instead of just the boy for whom we had papers.
Before leaving for Russia, I had a priesthood blessing in which I was told that the dream about Elena was of God and that “hearts would be softened and doors would be opened” so that we could bring this daughter home with us.
When we got to Russia, the orphanage told us that there were no girls for adoption who fit my description. However, as an afterthought, the head matron, said well, there is one little girl. Her name is Alona (English equivalent, Elena). She was the only girl in the orphanage with long hair. As a practice in the orphanage, all the children had shaved heads or very short hair to control head-lice. However, Elena’s caretaker took a personal interest in her; she washed and braided her hair every day, and then wrapped it on her head. She was 7 ½ years old.
Several children were brought to the “play room” at once because other people were also there to adopt. I recognized the room from my dream and when Elena and Sergey started to play with each other, despite their age difference, I felt comforted that things would work out.
When we asked about adopting Elena, the response was, "I don’t know. It’s never been done; there is paperwork you know that must be done!” We had no paper work for Elena but truly doors were opened and hearts were softened. When we left Russia ten days later, Elena was with us!
JOHN'S PRE-BIRTH STORY
This story begins before I was married. I was engaged and our date was set in the spring, however one night I had a strange dream. In this dream, a baby boy appeared to me. He had dark hair and dark eyes, and communicated, "Hurry up and get married so I can come!"
We were married in the next few months and I fully expected to get pregnant and start our family. However, that was not the plan. It became apparent that we were not to have children of our own. We started the adoption process, but in between moving three times, once to a foreign country, adoption didn't happen until we were back in the United States. One evening we got a call to come in the morning to pick up our new baby GIRL! I was a little confused; because I was sure, it was a boy. My husband and I were both impressed that her name was to be Sarah.
We continued the adoption process to get another child. Five years later we were still waiting. We had again moved several times. One Sunday, after spending all day at church, we discovered three messages on our answering machine. All three were from our social worker who said he needed to talk to us and then needed to see us and he would stop by our house at 6:00 pm. It was 10 minutes before 6 o'clock!
At 10 minutes after 6 the doorbell rang and our social worker was at the door. Being frustrated in his efforts to contact us all day, he asked if we were still interested in adopting a baby. We answered "Of Course!" He said, "I've got one in the car, do you want him?"
We hurried out to the car, and there was a two-day-old baby boy with dark hair and dark eyes. We brought the baby in the house, filled out some paperwork and one half hour later, the social worker left and we had a brand new baby! We had no preparations other than what came with the baby from the hospital. It was late Sunday night...no diapers, no formula, no clothes, and no crib ...after 5 years we were physically unprepared for a baby, but spiritually and emotionally our hearts were ready!
Wonderful neighbors helped us out that first night, but I have thought many times since, that the coming of the LORD will be just like that. We knew we could be called and get a baby "overnight" so to speak, but after five years of waiting, and three false starts, (being told about a baby, but then because of abortion or other reasons, the baby was not placed), although we had not given up, we were not prepared. We know the LORD is returning, we just don't know the timing. He will come when any of us least expect Him!
That is not the end of the story. Four years later, we had just moved to Germany, and were having our family dinner. John interrupted the conversation and loudly proclaimed: "And Mommy, and Mommy, when I was upstairs, I saw you married!" All conversation stopped and I looked at John to respond to him, but before I could say anything, he blurted out "And I said HURRY UP!" John had just turned four year old and still remembered his pre-earth life.
John does not remember any of his pre earth life now, but he does know the story we tell about him.