I had a dream about her the other night. I’m not sure exactly what transpired, or even if it was a good dream or an anxiety-inducing one. But I smiled upon waking because she has now become part of my nighttime dreams as well as my daytime ones.
I’ve been day-dreaming of her a lot lately.
It might be because her 2nd birthday is fast approaching and we just shipped off a big box of goodies for her to help celebrate her special day. It might be the video recently got of her dancing that we all watch regularly around here.
Or it might be these ridiculously sweet baby pictures I have been staring at, taken many months ago, after her first surgery to begin the long road to repair her broken heart.
What a story He has been writing in her life. And here we are, just jumping in sort of in the middle of all the joys and sorrows and downright hard she has had to endure. And, as a mama, I find myself desperately wanting to fill in all the gaps, know all the dates, have all the pictures, complete the baby book blanks. There is so very much we don’t know. And so much know we will never know.
But sometimes God gives an unexpected gift in the not knowing.
Our physical therapist (who has worked with Jude, Vivienne and most recently, Miss Clementine) was one of our references for this adoption. Having your child’s PT write a referral letter might sound a little unusual and it may very well be. But since we were super-duper cocooners with Clementine (for attachment as well as health reasons), our PT, Miss Katie, was one of the only people we saw regularly during those eight long, angst-filled months between coming home, Clementine’s complete tracheal rings diagnosis and her tracheal-slide/open-heart surgery. And when Katie came she saw the real us: with the dog jumping rudely and the kids running haphazardly and the mama sweating profusely.
And so it seemed like she would be the perfect person to ask to write up a reference letter, right?
Fast forward three months and I shared with Katie via text the wonderful news that we had been matched. We exchanged all sort of heart eyes and smiles and dancing ladies… so fun to celebrate blessed news with friends even if it can’t be in person. Then she realized that this wasn’t just any little girl halfway around the world. She realized that she actually knew this child, our new daughter. She had met her over a year before. She had evaluated her during one of her trips to China. She had hugged her. She had prayed for her. She had done the work to get her transferred to a specialized baby home so that she might get the care her very broken heart desperately needed.
Then she sent me pictures of her holding our daughter, at just 5 months old. Tiny. Solemn. Blue. Apart from knowing this was the same child, I’d have never guessed – she’d changed and blossomed so much since getting the care she needed.
The Lord wove Katie into Magnolia’s story the same way He wove our family into her story – in a way only He can. And He allowed us see the glorious underside of the tapestry He is weaving in her life, if only for a moment, to reveal His astonishing sovereignty, mighty hand and unwavering faithfulness.
And it takes my breath away. So thankful for the reminder that I don’t have to know it all. Because He does.
Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. But even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.
– Matthew 10:29-30