“And now here is my secret, a very simple secret, it is only with the heart that one can see rightly, what is essential is invisible to the eye.”
~Antoine de Saint-Exupery
My mind and my body were too exhausted and my heart was too full.
It’s always been my plight when writing about my children – our family – how do I put into words the depth and the magnitude of my feelings? My hesitation is not in sharing our experience, but in being able to share the moments as they were felt. As they were lived.
Adoption.
Ruby’s. Georgia’s. Mine.
Which came first?
With Ruby, I shared out of Joy and Wonder.
Our journey to her began as a long-standing desire of the heart. While I acknowledged the seeds of that desire were likely planted by God, I had no idea how my faith would be grown, tested and, ultimately, sealed before her face was ever revealed to us. It was during the course of our journey to Ruby that my relationship with God became personal. He became ever-present…as real, as immediate, as loving and as demanding as Chris and the kids were. And He became more.
After a particularly heart-wrenching series of events in the autumn of 2009, I gave up the fight. I wrote at the time that at the depth of my despair it dawned on me that God was working out my “trust muscle.” Though it hadn’t always felt that way, I realized that never once had I ever walked alone. Every hurt in my lifetime, each loss, He had redeemed. It wasn’t luck. It wasn’t survival skills. It was God. He didn’t “become more” over the years 2007-2009. He had always been. My eyes hadn’t yet seen. My heart hadn’t yet fully acknowledged Him. And though I had relied on Him when times were bad, I hadn’t praised Him when times got better. Not consciously. Not actively. Certainly, never out loud.
Not long after this surrender, we received Ruby’s referral. I will never get over the enormity of it. Others may claim coincidence, good fortune, kismet, the luck of the draw as the way their children came to them. I can only speak for myself. A 3-year-old little bit of a black haired, brown-eyed girl from the other side of the world entered our lives through Love alone. His love. Only God.
And in the instant that Tai Ya Lan was handed to me on that rainy Monday morning of June 28, 2010, I finally understood…the incredible longing, the overwhelming desire I had felt for this child of mine to come home to me, was but a fraction of what God feels for each one of us. She was mine… Always… Forever… No matter what… Just as I was His.
Her adoption. Mine. Which came first?
. . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Sweet Georgia.
“Pray also for me that whenever I speak, words may be given me that I will fearlessly make known the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains. Pray that I may declare it fearlessly as I should.”
~Ephesians 6:19-20
With Georgia, I share out of Joy and Wonder and Mystery I must acknowledge.
This gift. This 20 month old firecracker with the smile that melts our hearts and a giggle that grows into a belly laugh, with kisses wetter than any fish’s, who wiggles to music and, like her sister, sings at the top of her lungs, who squeals when she sees her siblings and who calls us “Mommy” and “Daddy,” who beams and claps and says, “Home!” when we pull into the drive, who falls asleep on me each night, gently patting my back as I pat hers then snuggles head to head with Daddy…There are no words to adequately convey the love we have for her or the gratitude we have toward Him.
She is the sweet completion of her family. Our family. It was not our doing, but His.
Please keep Georgia in your prayers. She has several medical procedures and surgery coming up over the next weeks.
To read more about the Chapman family adoption Journey you can check out their blog: http://www.myadoptionwebsite.com/ourpeach/index.html
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