*Some of you may know that we are in the process of adopting a 3 yr old with special needs from an orphanage in Eastern Europe. We have been in the process of his adoption since March 2017, and are hoping to bring him home in April or May 2018. Because it is part of the struggle and joy in my life, I am going to start posting thoughts and updates every once in a while .*
Dearest Little Man M,
You don’t know me, but I’m your mother. Or I will be soon. I already feel like your mom in so many ways, but then I remember I really don’t even know you. I don’t know your favorite foods or what time you go to bed. I don’t know what makes you sad or if you have a favorite song. I don’t know the last time you cried or if anyone was there to comfort you. And so in all those ways I am not your mother at all, though I long to be.
You have no idea that your life will soon be forever changed. You do not know that across an ocean four sweet children and two terrified adults pray for you every day. We think about you. We talk about you. We celebrate when we are one step closer to bringing you home. We imagine what it will be like when your light is added to our home.
I pray that you will somehow be prepared. That angels will whisper to your heart that things are changing and that you will recognize that we chose you. That we love you.
I know it will be hard. And I know I don’t have a clear understanding of what that hard will be. How can you prepare for something you don’t understand? I have no idea what kind of traumas you have been through in your short 3 years on earth. I have no idea how you will make sense of leaving everything you have ever known, with strangers who don’t look or speak like you, who feed you strange foods and sing you strange songs.
My heart aches to hold you, but my fear is thankful for a few more months to prepare. To enjoy the normal. And I feel guilty about that. It is a strange thing to long for something and be terrified of it at the same time. Can we really do this? Are we capable? Can we completely give you what you need? Have we made a mistake? My head screams all of these questions at me so loudly, at times it is difficult to hear anything else.
But when I can quiet my mind, and quiet the fear, and let my heart speak, I feel peace. I am reminded again and again that this was not my idea. That a loving Heavenly Father led us to you. To you, M! He knows you. He knows us. He knows what we are capable of, and he knows what He can make us capable of if we will allow Him to change us. You belonged to Him before you ever belonged to us, and that knowledge calms my soul and opens up the space where I long to have you home.