So there I was. Walking around with a picture of a precious little peanut, who was not even my child, secretly tucked away in my purse.
I was seriously questioning what the heck was going on with me. But, determined to do all I could… I prayed for this child to find a family. For her heart to stay healthy long enough for that to happen. And for God to reveal to me (and more importantly, to Chris) if we were to play a part in any of this.
Several days passed and I was determined not to speak of it… goodness, it didn’t make any sense to me, why would I expect it to make any sense to Chris? But one afternoon, as I was checking out the blog of one of the 30 Days of Giveaways winners, I noticed a link to her adoption story. And being a self-professed adoption-story-lover, I clicked.
And I read the entire thing. One sentence in particular struck me, so much so that I copied it and pasted it into an email and sent it to Chris, with “Esther” as the subject of the email…
In my recent study of Esther, Beth Moore said, “we’ll never fulfill our God-ordained destiny if we’re straddling the fence; we can’t be motivated by fear.”
Not only did the sentiment resonate deeply with me – that to obey God we cannot be motivated by fear – but that name. Esther. When we started the paperchase in April, Chris had mentioned that he wanted to name our future daughter Esther. And – because I think Esther, based on Esther of the Bible, is an especially beautiful name – I agreed. But in September, when we received Poppy’s referral pictures, we both knew she wasn’t an Esther.
So, we found another name we loved, especially chosen for our Poppy, and we were set. But now – after reading this single sentence about Esther, resiting fear and obeying God – the memory of this name came flooding back. And it somehow seemed a perfect fit for this little girl.
So, back to the story. The email to Chris was sent, no reply. Fine. Determined to try my best to move on and trust that God’s plan for the little peanut was a wonderful one, I told myself, “She must certainly have a family stepping forward for her by now.”
Shortly after this, a very good friend of mine emailed me about this exact child. She had no idea we had her file as well… she thought she was precious and was praying for discernment. So I replied – with my heart in my throat – that although we had her file as well, we really were not in a position to try to bring her home. And that I thought her family would be a wonderful blessing for this little one.
Because I truly did. Not only are they a truly wonderful family, but I knew, because of the seriousness of her heart defect, she needed to find a home.
Three days later, Chris and I met at our favorite lunch spot. We try to meet weekly for our ‘date’ at a local Mexican spot. It consists of sharing a big plate of nachos and a soda, with the littlest two tagging along. And we do our best to squeeze it in weekly. One hour of time to just enjoy each other and talk about whatever. Whatever might be on our minds. Or hearts.
And, on this day, the conversation turned serious. As my salsa-covered nacho was on its way to my mouth, our chit chat was punctuated by a question that took my breath away.
Chris was asking about her.
“So, you think that little girl looks like an Esther?”
“Yes. I do.” I whispered.
“Well, then what do we need to do to bring her home?”
I don’t remember a whole lot after that, more to do with the subject matter than the outstanding company or intoxicating nachos. And I still had to go grocery shopping and get home before the big kids got home from school. But all I could think of was this little girl. And what God might be up to.
I got into the car after absent-mindedly shopping and depositing said groceries into the trunk. And I took a deep breath and screwed up my courage, and called the agency that had her file.
Thankfully, I managed to get the director on the phone – someone who could actually answer my crazy questions. And listen to my laundry list of fears. So we talked. And talked.
I opened the floodgates and shared pretty much everything I felt I needed to say: where we were in the process, already with another agency, waiting for our i800a approval, set to travel in the spring.
And maybe this little one already had a family?
After listening to my diatribe, the director shared that their agency would not disregard our family simply because we were in process with another agency. And he said, surprisingly, that no one had her file on hold. There had been a lot of requests to review her file, but that her special need was complex and serious. And that they had received her file in October, two months previous, with no family stepping forward for her. But, if we were interested, we could put her file on hold and have two weeks to consider what we might be able to do to bring her home.
Wow. I was completely blown away. It seemed that God was really opening some very big doors to possibly bring this little girl home. Could it possibly be that she was meant to be our daughter? Our Esther?
I had no idea, but things were about to get very, very complicated.
Part three is here.