Revolving Doors

If you are reading this, you have probably now found out that Marcus and I have decided that the time is now right to add another Wyner to the group.  Poor child, adopted by a couple of crazies like us AND have to take on the last name "Wyner".  Kinda reaks. I guess it beats an orphanage.  

I decided to start this blog in hopes of not only answering some of the questions that are to follow, but also to share this entire experience with anyone interested.  I LOVE reading adoption blogs.  If you chose to put up with my sarcasm and poor grammar, you're welcome to follow us as we step out into the dark and do this! 

This is a journey that I've been bound to take for years.  I blame it on my mom and dad.  Why, you ask?  Because growing up my mom and dad have ALWAYS made their home a home to anyone in need. When I was in Elementary my parent's took in a baby (Kaylie) in hopes to adopt her.  After having our hearts ripped out when they gave her back to her mother (who was patiently waiting for her in prison) we decided that wasn't painful enough, so we decided to give fostering a try.  We had hopes to adopt.  That didn't happen either.  

Aside from all of the foster children my parent's took in, my parent's also helped raise my two cousins (who are actually what I consider sisters).  On top of that, we had several other people (including a family of six-yes, SIX) stay for periods of time.  Our home always had an open-door policy.

My mom has a decoration in her front room that says "WARD'S- Always Room For One More".  

In 1998 (I wrote it down in my journal) I watched a special program on TV called "Hearts and Hands" about a group of people who went to Ethiopia and helped orphan children there.  Since that time, I have literally ALWAYS had the idea of adopting an orphan on my mind.  Point being, this was not just something I drummed up all of a sudden.  I know that Heavenly Father planted this seed in my head years and years ago, and KNOW that this is part of the plan that he has for our family. 

So like I said, totally my parent's fault.  They taught me by example the blessings of service and compassion.  They taught me that "OUR" home was actually a blessing from God and it was HIS to share.  And that is what they did and continue to do.