Day 99

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, this week. Now that we’re playing the waiting game, there’s not much else to do. I am super busy with school work and miscellaneous projects I have going on, but baby is never far from my mind. In the last few weeks our adoption path has really begun to sink in and with each passing day I get more and more excited. It’s not like looking in your closet after a fun shopping spree excitement…or even receiving an “A” on a 20 page research paper that took weeks of compiling, kind of excitement. No, this is like a colossal-size excitement that shakes the core of who I am and fills me with purpose and knowing. I feel privileged to be a part of something so huge—so beyond myself. Something that, if not by circumstance, I may not have given thought to.

Ben was writing to a long-time friend who also happens to be pursuing adoption, and forwarded me the correspondence. His words really pierced my heart as I thought about the magnitude of what we’re about to do. He wrote: “…our hearts tell us to adopt ALL the children. We truly wish that none would suffer or live life less fortunate. It's such a heavy thing to think about. You can't help them all. But you can help one. Or two. Or three....There seems to be plenty of people willing to wait 2 years on a list to get a packaged little white baby that looks just like them (which is fine), but meanwhile there are so many stories like the one you're in. If everyone who had their own kids, would take just one more… then we could really make a serious dent.”

There ARE so many stories…so many children. Whether born or unborn, there are thousands of children in need of loving, stable, Christ-centered homes. I feel honored…chosen…for such a precious task. We are being handed the opportunity to breath life over a child. How incredible! How inspiring and life changing. Ben’s right. We can’t possibly help them all…but we can certainly change the path for one…or two…or three.

For us, it was imperative that our first adoption come through a newborn. Our skills are too new, our emotions too raw to do otherwise. We’ve slowly opened the idea of adopting through foster case for growing our family further, in the years to come. The following story gripped my heart to assurance, as I read this introduction at the bookstore, over the weekend:

The dark spots on her legs told a story of abuse. The pattern of
discoloration on her skin confirmed she had been burned with a
cigarette lighter. Reports say she passed out from the pain. She
was dumped in a ditch, left to die.
She was three years old. Her name is Terri.
She’s my daughter.
To some people, Terri and others like her are considered bro-
ken. They were abandoned, abused, and traumatized at an early
age. When they’re older, they suffer from all kinds of behavior
problems. Most people see them as throwaways. Nobody wants
to adopt problem kids like these.
Nobody, that is, except people like us.
This is our story—the story of how God inspired Possum
Trot, Texas, to take on 72 of the toughest kids from the foster-care
system and adopt them as their own. It’s also the story of how
God has used our little community of three hundred folks to
spark the conscience of a nation.

Small Town, Big Miracle
Copyright © 2007 by W. C. Martin

Google the book or town for more information. It’s worth the read.

I am excited for motherhood and all that comes with. I am excited we are walking the path less chosen and that we are part of the solution and no longer ignoring the problem. I am excited for the voice God has passioned in me to bring change. I am excited that we get to shake heaven and earth to make a difference in the life of one…someday two…and maybe three…

“And the King will answer and say to them, ‘Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren, you did it to Me.’” —MATTHEW25:40 (NKJV)