Friday, September 26, 2008

--

i am enraged by injustice and abuse.
enraged.
to the point that it is difficult to focus on those around me. to really give them all of me, even though i know i should.
but if i turn my brain off to the pain,
i become apathetic and complacent.
and i don't want to be that either.
who knew it would be so hard just to be.

Thursday, September 25, 2008

Monday, September 22, 2008

breathe.

at times i need to take a break.
a break from thinking about Africa, about Sierra Leone, about a little girl.
because sometimes when i think on these things, i get the sensation that i am drowning.
being held underwater.
and trying desperately to get to the top.
my lungs burning.
yearning for a breath.
but it seems that breath is just out of reach.

breathe.
that's what i need to do.
breathe.

Saturday, September 13, 2008

--

i go to bed at night with the images of someone i do not know flooding my mind. i dream of holding her hand, kissing her sweet little nose, playing with her hair.
i dream about what kind of lotion i will buy for her.
what she will look like in certain clothes.
what size shoe she wears.
but mostly i just see her face.
and when i wake up, i feel much like i did when i was small, and played with dolls. that it was great, but not real.
make believe.

i pray she is not feeling the same way.

His Eye is on the Sparrow

Why should I feel discouraged, why should the shadows come,
Why should my heart be lonely, and long for heaven and home,
When Jesus is my portion? My constant friend is He:
His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me;
His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.

Refrain

I sing because I’m happy,
I sing because I’m free,
For His eye is on the sparrow,
And I know He watches me.

“Let not your heart be troubled,” His tender word I hear,
And resting on His goodness, I lose my doubts and fears;
Though by the path He leadeth, but one step I may see;
His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me;
His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.

Refrain

Whenever I am tempted, whenever clouds arise,
When songs give place to sighing, when hope within me dies,
I draw the closer to Him, from care He sets me free;
His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me;
His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.

Refrain

--

Is it possible to be living in parallel spaces?
I feel like that is what we are doing.
Like life goes on around us, and we cook, and clean, and wash our cars. We bake, go to church and kiss our kids goodnight, while a part of me is absent.
In a different place.
A completely different world that I know nothing about, being taking care of by people I do not know.
Being kissed goodnight by someone else.
Or not.

Is it possible to live in both of those spaces?
I am finding it so difficult.

Friday, September 12, 2008

about the animals.

Whenever I found out I was pregnant, Steve and I (okay, it was me) would pick an animal to represent that child. All throughout that pregnancy, we would only purchase things for the baby that were, or had their animal on it. Clothes, toys, etc. It was sort of a fun way to curb our spending, while feeling like we were always on the hunt for the perfect thing.

Emily is a lion. Isaiah is a giraffe. Hannah is a Zebra. Micah is a crocodile. Brody is a raccoon.

Our sweet new daughter will be a sparrow.
Because, His eye is on the sparrow.

And don't worry, I had the tattoo artist leave room on the trunk of my tree for another footprint. :)

Am I Crazy?

Am I crazy to believe that this will happen?
After all, the program in Sierra Leone is not even open right now.
Am I crazy to become attached to a little girl, of which I have no rights to yet?
After all, she could be gone when we get there.
Am I crazy to think that we can do this, that we are emotionally prepared enough, stable enough, rich enough?
Yes, I probably am.
And that's okay.

and her light filled the room

it was july 17th, 2008 when i recieved a phone call from a friend.

she asked what i was doing, and i said getting ready to celebrate micah's birthday. she said, great, but we need to talk about something serious.

at that point she proceeded to tell me about the situation in Sierra Leone, and the children that were left there.

i knew. from the moment she mentioned them, that one of them would be mine.

i e-mailed my other friend who was in colorado at the time, and asked her a million questions. and said that, i think we could do this.

she sent me the ages and sexes of the children who were left, and asked who i thought i would be interested in. in a millisecond, i was responding, 4 year old girl. this is so interesting to me, because i always thought i wanted to adopt a boy, but when presented with these kids, the choice wasn't even a choice.

shortly after that, i recieved an e-mail, saying, meet her. and a picture was attached.

and her light filled the room, as i began to weep.

she is mine, and i am hers, and we haven't even met.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

My prayer

Lord, may she know, somewhere deep inside, that I am coming.
May she hear my voice in her dreams, telling her stories about her brothers and sisters. Telling her I love her. Telling her that she has not been forgotten.
Please, God, let her know, somehow, that I know her name, and I love her.

Protect her. Keep her safe. Make the time until we are together pass quickly.
Do not let her believe, for a second, that she is forgotten.

Remind her everyday that I am coming soon.

In the beginning

How does one paraphrase an awakening that began over eight years ago? How does one go back, and drum up all the emotions and convictions and struggle to get to where we are today?

I have no answer for that. Infact, I don't have many answers at all. What I do have, however, is hope.

Steve and I have decided to adopt from Sierra Leone, West Africa.

I have known we would adopt for many years. It is something I was born to do. As natural to me, as giving birth. As planned, as thought out, and as dreamed about as every other one of my children.

If you know anything about us, you know that we have good friends who have adopted from Sierra Leone. They brought home beautiful two year old twins. The struggle they went through was so great. The tears so numerous. But I never thought for one minute that I wouldn't adopt.

Steve took some convincing, but spending time with our friends, and learning about the little girl who will one day be our daughter, was all it took.

There is so much to share. So many feelings. So hard to put it all down. But hopefully, with time, and time is all we have right now, I will document this for our beautiful sparrow.