This week, I realized that the angst of the adoption process closely resembles being in your ninth month of pregnancy.  Okay, so I only made it to my seventh month with Elliott, but I’ve observed enough pregos to get the general idea.  When a woman is in her ninth month, and it even starts sometimes in the seventh or eighth months, really well-meaning people start to make comments like, “That baby isn’t here yet?”  and “You’re STILL pregnant?” and “How much longer?” and “Have you felt anything/any contractions/any indication at all that the baby is on the way?”  I’ve been guilty of several of these statements myself.  And it’s apparent that very preggers, swollen, bloated, uncomfortable women to not appreciate these comments.  You can almost see the steam rising from their heads as they try to fight the urge to body-slam you with their big ol’ bellies.

Well, waiting for an adoption is like being in your ninth month of pregnancy…for one, two, or heaven forbid, more YEARS.  (I know, I know, without the varicose veins and cankles.)  I love that people love me and care and ASK, and I don’t want that to go away.  I really don’t.  I love that I have someone almost every day asking how it’s going.  I’m grateful to have a community of friends and family members who care.  I just wish I had something to tell everyone!  Still waiting…nothing yet…Baby Dale is still in Africa waiting to find out that we love him-slash-her.  Still no contractions, ha-ha….

So anyway, dejected, exhausted, still-waiting me dragged into church yesterday and heard exactly what I needed to hear.  I mean, EXACTLY.  If you’re waiting for something, anything at all that’s hard to wait for, visit http://www.southside.org/index.php?pr=Messages and listen to Waiting Room/In the Meantime.  Jeff talked about using GPS while you’re waiting.  GRATITUDE, PERSISTENCE, AND SURRENDER.  I’ll let you listen to the message to hear how he unpacks that.  On the way out, they gave us stickers to put where we’ll see them.  Below is where I put mine:

-Gratitude for God’s faithfulness in letting me have Elliott

-Persistence in Prayer every day

-Surrender of my sweet Ethiopian baby to God’s timing

One of our new Adacar sponsors emailed me today.  I cannot stop crying over the power of our God to heal, to bring light and goodness out of the worst of circumstances.  I am humbled and privileged to get to share these words from David Lotti, a member of Southside Church, with you.  His own words are so powerful that I have simply copied them here, so that you can experience his story the way that I did this afternoon.

“Our child is Jenifer.  My wife and I are thrilled at this opportunity.  I lost a son 5 years ago in a plane crash in Peru.  He had spent the previous 2 years building water reclamation projects for villages in the jungle for the Peace Corps.  He originally had spent a summer in Africa building a school house in Kenya.  He joined the Corps hoping to return to Africa.  He got detoured to Bolivia, I guess by the hand of God.  After seeing the beautiful children yesterday, I knew then why my son fell in love with the people (especially the children).  In this very small way we are returning our son, his love and ours back to Africa.  I hope all the children found sponsors.  Jenifer’s picture is above this computer as I write.  Thank you for making this happen.”

I wrote him back, sobbing at my computer, and asked his permission to share his story.  This is how he responded:

“ABSOLUTELY.  We have LOST a lot BUT GAINED MUCH.  Steve always amazed me at always being able to work around problems to achieve his goals.  Steve HUMBLED his father in so many ways.  I do not want this to be about us.  It should be about the children.  Even one voice “crying in the wilderness” can make a difference.  This is so insignificant in comparison to how he lived his life.  God’s given us back some of what He took away with Jenifer.  In the process it has made me a better parent and truly appreciate the legacy of my son.  This is the time and the place to channel our love to such a beautiful child.  Somewhere in the heavens above there stands a young man with a smile on his face saying, “Dad, congratulations! You finally get it. “‘

Yes, I’m crying again.  God is continuing to use Steve’s love for Africa, his legacy, to change lives and make a difference in the world, in David’s life and in the lives of people who hear this story.  I’m so grateful to be able to share it here.  Both David and his wife, and Jenifer, an orphan, have experienced tremendous loss.  They have been broken.  And yet through their loss and brokenness, God has brought them together.  I’m thrilled that today Jenifer has a sponsor family.  She isn’t alone anymore.  She has David and his wife praying for her and writing to her and loving her.  What a tapestry God weaves!  Someday I will love to see Jenifer, and Steve, and his parents all worshipping together at the feet of our truly awesome Lord.

This morning at Southside Church we saw over one hundred kids get sponsored.  The Daraja Children’s Choir led worship, and I mean WORSHIP, not just performance.  We got to experience a slice of heaven, joining with these kids to glorify our Father.  It was beautiful.  It was powerful.  And then somehow Alex and I propelled our bodies onto the stage and the Holy Spirit took over and made the words come out of our mouths.  He gave us a glorious reprieve from nervousness and allowed us to have fun sharing how our sponsor kids have touched our lives.  We got to share with our church family about the other family that God has placed in our hearts, the kids of Adacar.  While speaking about the community to community model of Children’s HopeChest and the power of the local church, I felt so grateful for MY church, that they want to experience this together, to extend ourselves to Uganda and partner with Adacar.  The Daraja kids sang, “Church arise, come alive.”  Today, Southside did just that for the kids in Africa.  I love my church.  I am so proud of my church.  Daraja sang a song that reduced me to a puddle, “I am not forgotten; God knows my name.”  Yes!  That’s the power of sponsorship, of building a relationship with a child halfway around the world.  To let that child know, “God knows your name.  You are not forgotten.  I know your name, and God has placed you on my heart and in my family.”  It’s happened for us with Bosco and George.  Kathleen has Harriet.  Then there’s Meribu and Florence and Mary and Simon Peter and on and on and on, kids who are not forgotten.  God knows their names, every name, and He can use US, the local church, as His provision for them.  “Arise, let the church arise!”  And now that we’re awake, let’s never go back to sleep.