You've heard me say before that adoption is born from loss. No words are more true. Lucy is ours, not because everything in her life was going beautifully, but because this world is terribly broken. She came to out of tragedy. Sometimes, people tell me that she is so lucky to have us. I disagree. She's not lucky.
But we are. We are the ones who get the joy of, not just knowing her, but parenting her. I don't only get to have a relationship with her, I get to have what is arguably THE MOST IMPORTANT relationship with her. I get to be her mother. I get to curate her life. I get to become her inner voice. I get to introduce her to the world, more importantly, I get to introduce her to Jesus Christ. I get to tell her that she is CHOSEN and LOVED by the Creator of all that exists.
And I get to protect her. I get to protect her heart and her story. I get to tell her over and over again how precious and cherished she is.
So there is this struggle for me. What do I share? When we brought Bradley home, the imminent arrival of his baby sister resolved the issue for me. I had almost no time to write, so not much got shared just out of default. I certainly don't have more time now, but I want to make use of the precious little time I do have. That's why I'm sitting on the floor of my room, in the dark, typing this while Lucy naps right next to me. I want to use the time I have to document the incredible miracles God is working in the life of this family I call my own.
Three weeks ago, we were holding a beautiful little girl who was a complete stranger to us. She was terrified. And rightly so. Her nanny handed her to me, and then baby girl did not let go for the remainder of the day. Alternating between crying and staring, she hung on to me. Those first hours and days are are something I will never forget. They will serve as a constant reminder of where we have started and how far the Lord has brought us.
Even today, I watch this silly, smiley girl toddle around my living room, and I am in awe. She loves to laugh and hug her dolls. She loves to snatch books out of my hands. She loves to follow her brother and sister around. And she really loves her dog. The precious child sleeping in my room has covered MILES--literal and figurative--in just three short weeks.
The Lord Almighty has worked a true miracle right before my eyes. This little girl who sobbed at the sight and sound of her dad three weeks ago, now follows him when he leaves the room. Adam spent our first week in China hiding in the bathroom so that she could play and bond with me without being afraid of him. Now, he is lucky to go to the bathroom alone because she is his constant shadow. God has answered our deepest prayer by softening her heart toward us, and it has been astounding to see.
Adoption is not rosy. It is not just adorable pictures and airport celebrations. It is a lifetime of small victories and a daily effort to hand parenting over to God. It is a constant, in-your-face reminder of God's unwavering, unfailing, redemptive love. It is an invitation to watch Him do the impossible in your own home.