That's not to say that there aren't days that get so heavy I throw my hands up in the air and say "I want out!". I want to forget what I saw, I want to forget that there is an orphan epidemic and go on living my life in ignorance. But that's when my Father steps in and wraps His arm around my shoulder reminds me that they're His children, not mine. And I remember how much of a privilege it is to be a small part of His mighty work, and how much I have learned about Him and about myself through the eyes of these little ones, and I feel thankful that I'm walking in obedience, even though it hurts my heart.
Of course I am thinking of BAM today, he has taken up permanent residence in my heart. During church this morning, I begin to miss him (sort of an odd feeling because I have only met him once - but I think most adoptive parents can relate to loving a child whom they have not met. The heart is powerful). I don't really know what to do with these feelings, so I look over at Dirt and tell him that I'm sad that BAM doesn't live here with us. He already knows this, and he knows that he can't do anything about my sadness; it's in the hands of the Lord.
Today I'm working on putting the final touches on a package that I'll be sending to BAM, via my friends Sam & Wendi Henry, who are going to Ethiopia next month. I so wish I could go with them. Some days it takes every ounce of willpower I have to not impulsively purchase a ticket. (Christmas gift idea alert, hint, nudge: RT plane ticket to Ethiopia) ;-)
I am kind of stumped about what to pack in an envelope to send to a son who is so far away. The envelope seems so small, and I want to send him everything. Of course the mother instinct keeps prodding me to toss in a pair of clean underwear and socks, but that might be awkward. So I revert back to things I think he'll like. Though the envelope is filled to capacity, what I've put inside it hardly feels sufficient.
There are millions of orphans in the world, will you do something this week to help one of them?