Yesterday, as I rocked Charlotte on the dock and watched my other three littles splashing and giggling in the lake with daddy, I couldn’t help but thank God for the beautiful way He authors redemption stories.
I know there are {many} critics of international adoption. I understand the reasons. I firmly believe in restoring first families. I grasp the reality that adoption is not the sole response to orphan care. Adoption is not the ideal situation for children. It is borne out of loss. I mourn all that my sweet girl has lost in her short life. I know the questions will come from her confused little heart someday…the longing for answers – answers that I do not have to give.
Yet, to those critics, I would argue that I know these moments of laughter and joy are gifts from a loving Father who has held Sylvie in the palm of His hand from her first breath on this globe. She, like every precious child on this earth, deserves the love of a family.
Her doctors continually use the word “miracle” to describe our girl. We look at the conditions where she lived for the first year and a half of her life and we whisper “miracle.” We marvel at the path God orchestrated for her to come home when it seemed impossible and we praise Him for yet another miracle.
I have had a front row seat to modern-day miracles.
I have also sat in the tumultuous storm and felt the waves pounding.
The path was not easy. The journey was not comfortable. Our lives were turned upside down. Our perspectives were changed, our hearts were transformed, our comfort was removed. We stepped out in faith and were given the awesome privilege of an adventure that exceeded our wildest imaginations.
The transition isn’t perfect. I won’t pretend we are sitting around singing songs and giggling and hugging all day long. But, the beauty is rising above the ashes. The joy of the morning is breaking through in glorious light on the horizon.
