The day of the election, while our country moved on in its history, I
stood at one end of my dining room table, Micah at the other, and we took
another step in ours. We looked into each other's eyes and while we used
different words, we spoke in unison. For the first time in a long time, I was
vulnerable and open. He was resolute and firm. In the quiet spaces, hearts had
shifted. Clay was being quietly, firmly molded and pressed, given over to the
thought that maybe, just maybe, there may be more. ~ This seems a
dramatic scene, but I assure you, it is this vivid in my mind. And sometimes I
feel like I live in a novel. ~
We had prayed for a large family. God granted what we asked--- not
in a way we could have dreamed or imagined but in a way that has and continues
to direct our faces toward His love and grace. Micah and I have had the honor
to love our five. They remind us every day that life is precious and in it, God
writes beautiful stories that sing His love. They teach us more and more about
His Fatherly affection, the forgiveness offered by the Son, and the nearness of
the Spirit. We have had the opportunity to love more little ones beyond the
five we see, even for such a short time. I am so thankful I got to know of
them. I am thankful to have had the opportunity to love them with a motherly
love. I am thankful to have the hope of meeting them again, when we all are
whole. Until then, I find myself in the thick of it. There are dance parties,
struggles, schoolwork, housework, conflicts, resolutions, tears, smiles,
running, resting, failure, success, quiet, loud, and all that happens between. It
seemed we had encountered a likely bookend to this season. Yet, there was
always another thought. What if God would bring children once orphaned in
different ways into this home? Our home?
Over the last few years, Micah and I have talked about adopting again.
((I am going to give you just a minute to gasp, or laugh, or whatever
emotion that last sentence might evoke))
Until the last several months, we might mention it and laugh too, often with an eye roll. There always seems to be a little crazy in calling.
I can't say I know what exactly has changed but something most certainly has.
As the country was watching election results either reeling or rejoicing, he
and I spent the majority of the evening reorienting our thoughts around what
was happening much closer home. We were and are all in.
Adoption. Yes. International. Yes. Where would we be both
geographically and circumstantially approved? Most importantly, where might a
child or children live as orphans who we might call by our name? In just a few
days, reckoning information, thoughts, feelings, desires, it was clear to us.
The answer was Haiti.
As of right now, our home study has been approved. The piles of paperwork
have aligned (with the help of an
awesome social worker).
Since last November, God has given us hearts for Haiti; for its beauty,
for its struggle. Micah had the privilege of visiting for a few days with an
old Seminary friend of his. Many of the people there have great needs, as do
we, but markedly and variably different. They also have great resilience. I try
to follow the landscape of need, and am aware that there exists, sometimes in
whole countries, a kind of desperation I do not know living here.
I am thankful that in the last few years, Haiti has come under the Hague
Convention on Protection of Children and Co-operation in Respect of
Intercountry Adoption. It seeks to make children the priority and serve their
best interests, limiting corruption and the exploitation of children. It
addresses trafficking--- which is utterly evil. It affirms children given for
adoption are true orphans.
We are praying for a child or two siblings--- opening our hearts for who
might be on the other end of this. Part of our preparation has been learning as
much as we can about the Haitian culture. We'd love to learn the language. It
is our desire to honor their heritage and learn from them.
One thing I want to make clear, we are neither saving children or being
saved by them. They will be a precious gift to us, as we hope we are to them.
If there would be a child or children who would benefit leaving the home they
have always known to come and live with us, we are available. We want to be
their forever family. I know the people who live with me and they (as do I)
have a lot of love to give, as we have been so loved first.
I am still struck by the gravity of what adoption means. It would be
desirable for children to be raised by one or both birth parents and I am grateful
to groups who help hold families together by helping provide the means for
steady income. These orphan prevention programs are such a blessing to many
families, particularly in countries where extreme poverty and the effects of
major natural disasters are constants. Regardless of those efforts, and as I
know well, there will still remain orphans because we live in the land of
broken things. In recent past or even as I type, a mother and/or father are
feeling the weight of caring for a child or children they cannot. The resources
provided them aren't enough. Or, death separates. Whatever the circumstances,
hearts are breaking. Lives have been or are being torn apart. This is where the
need for adoption begins. The weight is necessary. It cannot be glossed over.
It cannot be denied. We look to honor it and corporately remember the One who
brings family together and promises to redeem broken things, us included.
So--- this is an invitation. We ask your prayers; for Micah and me, for
our children, and for "Haiti babies" (as our triplets call them) who
will, God willing, one day come to be with us.
