Friday, November 21, 2014

My Story

Adoption is a bridge between God and man. It is a beautiful story of redemption, bought by pain and loss, paid for by our children.

When we entered the world of adoption ten years ago, all we knew was that we felt called that we had a daughter in China. The adoption world was different then. It was growing daily and there seemed to be such camaraderie between adoptive parents and the sweet blessings of seeing families created.

We were already happy with the biological family we had. In fact, we married and had children so young that we were still in our thirties when both of them were finished with high school. We always joked when they were growing up that we’d have time to travel and “do what we wanted” while we were still young.

God had other plans.
We had a daughter in China.
His ways are always perfect.

The immense joy and blessings of being “older” parents this time are incredible. What an insufficient way to describe our journey these last ten years, but there are not adequate words. How do you explain how incredibly deeply you love any of your children? You can’t.
But love gained by pain and loss of your child is raw. Respecting them as a person with a life before you, with a loss they feel in their soul, knowing they were cheated by what most of us take for granted is delicate.

Even something as simple as guessing a birth date is a bridge between two cultures, two halves of a beautiful life created by a loving God, a beautiful soul we have the privilege of knowing and loving. Her very existence with us bonds important pieces of her past, present, and future. As we raise her to be aware of her birth country, embrace it, and do the same with the country which is now hers, we teach her to embrace and love herself. She is special, she is beautiful; inside and out.

The first time we adopted, we knew for certain God was calling us to come for our daughter. We both had visions of God telling us she was there. Everything lined up perfectly, even the huge responsibility of financing an international adoption. God took care of every detail.
Now we feel that He is possibly calling us again.

The biggest step of obedience I’ve taken in my life is adoption. The hardest part of obeying this time is that I’m not positive of what God is trying to tell me. It was so easy the first time, but like each pregnancy and each child is unique, this possible new adoption is writing its own story.

Adoption is, indeed, a bridge between God and man. It is a beautiful story of redemption, bought by pain and loss, paid for by our children, but also paid for by the Lord.
He purchased the hurt and pain suffered. He knows the stories and backgrounds. He knows the plans He has for them and for us as He interweaves our life journeys into a design only He can conceive.

So, what is He telling us this time?

The adoption world is so different. I wrote earlier how much I love being an older mother, but I don’t desire being an ancient mother. The route I took before is long closed for us. Even if age wasn’t a factor, we are not called to bring home a baby after an excruciatingly long wait.
This time our hearts are called to a little girl who has been in the orphanage for almost all of her eight years and she has a health condition that will require careful attention and surgery 
when she goes to her forever family.

This can be scary stuff if I look inside myself, but that isn’t what God calls us to do. He asks us to keep our minds and hearts, our eyes focused above on Him alone.
What is His plan? What is His plan for this precious little one? What is His plan for our family?

Of course, our prayer is for discernment to understand God’s will so that we will make the decision that is right for our family.

My daughter from China, now ten years old, gave the most heartfelt plea for considering adoption when she said, “Only a sister from China would know and understand the secrets of my heart without me telling her because we have the same beginning from the same place.”

Her insightful, powerful words attack my heart, yet rest peacefully because she was able to speak of loss, joy, and hope in one statement. 

Those words may be a bridge from God to a little girl halfway around the world. Or are they a bridge to a mother who recognizes the trust it took her daughter to share her heart?

I’ll be on my knees waiting for the answer.

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