Dear Mia,
Today is a big day for our family. It marks the one-year anniversary of a phone call that forever changed my life. All of our lives.
We were nearly eleven months into our adoption journey, and resolution seemed elusive. We entered into the process with conviction and courage, but just as with much of life, little of it went as planned. Our home study took an inordinate amount of time due to some unusual circumstances. During the preceding summer months, a computer server crashed, and a lot of our information was lost. Luckily I kept copies of everything, but it would take weeks before the agency was able to ascertain all they needed. Then, when I was sending the information they needed, the packet was lost in the mail. And it only had to go ten miles. We lost months in the process, but admittedly, what we lost more of was confidence.
Mommy and I began questioning if we were on the right path. Then strangely, and somewhat out of the blue, a domestic possibility arose, and we began wondering if that was God's plan for our family. But then that possibility fell through, too, and we were even more confused. We knew God was calling us to the cause of defending the fatherless (Isaiah 1:17), but things felt out of our hands, and therefore, out of our control.
So back to one year ago today. It was a Friday...the Friday before Thanksgiving. I was enjoying my Sabbath day at home and in my man cave, or our bonus room as you probably know it, enjoying the solitude. As I have many times before in my life, I felt the call to pray. It was similar to how your Poppy Charlie used to put his hand on my shoulder and say, "son, we need to talk." So I reclined in the couch and spent some time in prayer.
There were three things that I felt God calling me meditate upon: (1) the Childcare Center at the church, and our new vision statement to be a place for all God's children; (2) some dear friends who were struggling mightily with their child; and (3) our own call to adoption. I didn't ask God for a sign or a miracle, I just asked Him for peace. Peace in the church. Peace in the home of our friends. And peace in my own spirit as I wrestled with things not happening according to my timeline and wishes.
Within a few minutes of emerging from prayer, I went downstairs and prepared to get Ethan from school. I was scooping the litter box, which you still think is your sandbox, when the phone rang. It was our case worker from Lifeline. She called to share some news with me.
She said she was in an advocacy meeting where the staff in the agency look at the files for children who need homes. This was a particularly important meeting, because Lifeline brought in a new partnership orphanage, and in that facility were many children who needed forever families. Rachel said that when she saw the picture of this one little girl in particular, she saw our family. As soon as that meeting ended, she hurried to her office to call me. This little girl's file didn't really match what we had placed on our special needs form, but she had a particular feeling that she felt compelled to follow, so she asked if we would review it.
I agreed to receive the file and learned a little bit about this child. She was abandoned at birth, but now she was two-years-old. She had an issue where additional fluid built up on her brain. She required two surgeries to address the issue, but was doing very well now. She was a little slow to speak and walk and do other things young children do, because she spent so much of her early life in a hospital. She needed a mommy and a daddy who would love her, teach her, watch over her, and get her the care she needed to learn, grow, and thrive.
Honestly, we weren't completely sure. We just weren't. But as mommy and I talked about it, we decided that the synchronization of events meant that God was bringing us together. We talked and prayed and decided to say, yes. I sure am glad we did. That little girl who needed a family and a home? That little girl was you.
It took mommy and me getting out of the way and surrendering ourselves to the Lord's plan for everything to work out like it was supposed to. And once we had the assurance that we were indeed on the right track, things began to make sense.
Servers crashing.
Lost mail.
Additional requirements for mommy and me that were outside the original plan.
Frustrating delays.
All of it.
Honestly, it seemed random and senseless. It wasn't. We were chomping at the bit to bring a child into our home, but God didn't want any old child for us, and he especially didn't want any old family for you. God was bringing us together, and we needed time. You weren't quite ready when we were, so we were asked to wait. We just couldn't see it for what it was at the time. But when the time came, it was the right time. You were the right little girl. We were the right mommy and daddy. And now we are one family...you, brother, mommy, and me. It was so hard waiting and wondering, but we see redemption all over our entire family's life, and God's fingerprints are all over us, too.
On this one year anniversary of that life-changing afternoon that began with a call to pray followed by a call on the phone, I again find myself marveling at the gift that is you, Mia. This experience challenges us, no doubt, but what is being forged through the trials is something priceless. Like the initial grain of sand that in time produces a pearl, our life together is beautiful. And I wouldn't trade it for all the jewels in the world.
Right now I have a picture of a bridge in Guangzhou, China as the wallpaper on my computer. It is one of my favorite pictures from our entire trip, taken on a dinner cruise with other families adopting, too. It was a fun evening. The bridge reminds me of the journey and the crossing all four of us made from one life to another. It reminds me of crossing the world for you, and crossing it again to reunite with Ethan and bring you home. It also reminds me of how God crossed from heaven to earth in Jesus so we all can be saved and adopted into His holy family.
But there is something else about that evening that strikes me on this one-year anniversary. We were traveling on the Pearl River in China. The Bible talks about how the Kingdom of God is like a gorgeous pearl that a man sold everything he had in order to acquire it (Matthew 13:45-46). I feel kind of like that in our journey together. From the challenges, heartache, expense, and the sheer demand of what it meant to follow God's plan for us — and even considering some of the pain we've endured since then — I am reminded of that pearl of great price. It is more than just a single solitary soul...it is about the faith, trust, and the obedience we all needed then, and frankly need still. The hallmarks of our daily life together with God.
Things can still be tough, and I know we haven't faced the last of our challenges. But we're in this together, thanks to the faithful hand of our Almighty God. Our pearl of great price is found in the sweet moments when you call us mommy and daddy. They are also found in the tear stains on our shirts when you've buried your head on a shoulder to cry and release your pain. They are also found in the moments when our entire family gathers and we see you in your place. They are also found when you enter a worship space and the many people God placed on this journey with us get to see the results of a lot of hard work and prayer, right there in the flesh. Our pearl is obedience that is revealed in relationship, Mia. In the good days and in the more challenging days, we are here, together, bound by the love and spirit of God that brings us all into His family.
Reflecting back over this past year, I want to say one more thing. It won't be the last by any means, but it's how I want to close this letter to you today, dear Mia. I am glad I answered that call. Both of them, actually. I am glad I entered into prayer when our Heavenly Father said, "son, we need to talk," because it was in that moment He was placing your family in our case worker's heart, too. And I'm glad I answered her call when she phoned me. In both of those cases, "hello" turned out to be the word that changed my world.
And as I post this letter to you while you're stirring after a restful night's sleep, I look forward to hearing your little voice enthusiastically greet me with the "Hello!" you say when we enter your room. May that greeting initiate the second year of a changed life for all of us yet. We still have a lot to celebrate: your first Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, Easter, and your birthday before your Gotcha and Adoption Days roll around again, but I can't wait for all the "hellos" between now, then, and long thereafter.
Good morning, my dear Mia. Welcome to this day that marks the first anniversary of the date everything changed for us all. Let's see what it has in store, beginning with a "hello," my dear pearl!
Love,
Dad
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