It's a bedtime tradition that began with Little Nutbrown Hare, and each night we try to outdo the last...I love you to the moon and back...to the beach and back...to the mountians...and one of my favorites, "to Jesus and the angels" and back...We never imagined we would be saying, I love you to Africa and back...it seems like the furthest imaginable place, but yet in God's perfect timing, we plan to go.... to Africa and back!!! And when we get back, we will have another little cheek to kiss goodnight...please keep us in your prayers and enjoy this journey with us!

Thursday, November 14, 2013

A Mother's Prayer




Her arms empty, she has prayed a prayer, God did you hear me? Did I hear you right Lord? My children are gone…and in her heart she hears "Trust Me"…

Another mother prays, her arms empty…the words she has heard have hit her heart, leaving her frozen. God did you hear me? Did I hear you right Lord? You told me, in the quietness that night…"Why not adopt"…so why are my children gone…and in her heart she hears "Trust Me"…

Two mothers, 3 children and 1 Almighty God…and in the bareness of a hospital room in Kinshasa, DRC, these mothers are given a glimpse of His plan... Divine Intervention…

Last summer my parents attended some church meetings in rural Kentucky…We are from Nashville.  As the meeting ended they joined the crowd for a potluck lunch. As they looked around the crowded room they spotted a table with barely enough room to sit but felt compelled to join this table. As they ate they began conversing with a man across the table. He stated that he was in the same profession as I am. They asked about his practice and where he had gone to school. As the conversation went on they learned that he and I had been classmates in graduate school and had known each other quite well, but each going our separate ways after graduating. He began asking them about me and my family. They proceeded to tell him that we were in the process of adopting from DR Congo and that the orphanage we were hoping to adopt from is in Kinshasa…at that moment his wife spoke…"that's where I'm from, my family is there"…Divine Intervention...

As our story has unfolded they have become a significant source of information and support for our family. As we receive each new document, she translates it for me, helping us make sense of the chaos that is, International Adoption...

On October 14th I received an email from our caseworker at OWAS. It stated that our oldest son had been taken to the hospital with a broken leg. Along with the message that our son was hospitalized we also were told that this is outside of the normal medical expenses and that we would be required to cover this expense. I immediately told them to treat him as needed and we would pay later. I learned at what hospital he was being care for and received a phone number for this doctor. I immediately contacted my Congolese friend who told me she had a sister in Kinshasa, who is a nurse...relief swept over me. I all of a sudden didn't feel quite so far away from my son or quite as helpless. She assured me that her sister would travel to the hospital to visit our son. In the meantime she called the phone number for me, seeing as I would find it impossible to converse in French and Lingala with the physician. This was perfect, because she also is a nurse. She immediately called me after speaking with the surgeon and informed me that he stated he was there with our son. He needed surgery, but he was waiting to operate until payment had been made…at that moment I felt let down and angry with our agency. I thought they were there representing us and I find out from a friend here in the US that a surgeon is at my sons bedside awaiting payment in order to treat him??? I then immediately contacted my caseworker who told me to make an online payment to the agency and they would be able to send funds that day. Of course, without hesitation I rushed to my computer and promptly made the payment. After the payment had been received, I then was contacted by the caseworker, notifying me that the payment would have to be sent to the director at the orphanage, a 45 minute drive out of the city and an orphanage worker would take it the next day. I knew the urgency of the need for surgery and asked for the money to be wired directly to the hospital and was told this was not an option. She then told me if I wanted to make arrangements to make payment directly I could do this and they could refund the money, to which I said I would do and asked for a refund (a refund we are yet to see, but that's for a later story). When I relayed this information to my friend she then said that we could wire the money directly to her sister, who would go pay in person for us…Divine Intervention…

Upon arriving to our son's bedside, our friend's sister, learned so much more than the answers to our questions about our son medical condition. She was able to answer for us the many many questions that we had asked OWAS over the last year, in which we had never received answers. In finding our children's birthmother, sitting at his bedside in that hospital room, she learned who our son really was. She shared that he was not the oldest of 3 siblings but the 3rd child out of 6 siblings. She learned that there is a baby, is his youngest sibling, also at the orphanage, referred to a different family. She learned that our son is 7 years old and the twins are 5 and that birthdays are indeed, kept track of in DRC. She learned that the children's father, who is the father of all 6 children, is living.  She learned that their mother was approached by a staff member of the orphanage, when their father who is in the military was stationed away from home. At the time that their mother was approached by the orphanage staff member, she was pregnant with the youngest. He told her that he was going to take her 3 youngest children to a home where they would be well fed and cared for. She was told that Americans don't want older children so the oldest 2 were left behind. She was told that Americans would come and take the children to the United States where they would receive an American education. She would receive frequent updates about the children. She was told that after the children were a little older and educated they would be coming back home to her, where they would build her a nice home and support her. When the baby was 1 month old, the same person came and took her, stating Americans love babies, she will go to America soon. And she learned that this mother, loves her children and she cries for them every night. And as conversations ensued between my friend's sister and our children's birthmother, their mother learned that what she had been told was only half truth and that her children had actually been taken to an orphanage to be adopted internationally, never to return again. She had never heard the word adoption. While there may not be a Congolese word for adoption, there are ways to describe the permanence of adoption. When one Congolese person speaks to another, there are ways to ensure that there is nothing lost in translation. There is a mother in DRC who longs for her children. There is a mother who has been lied to and coerced who never agreed to give her children up for adoption. There is a mother whom, when told that her child is hospitalized, she stays around the clock at his bedside. This mother is the rightful mother of our children. This is a mother, who deserves the chance to love and raise her children. While this mother will never get those first months back to bond with her baby or have the last year back that she lost with her children, she deserves the chance to learn who her baby is growing up to be and to restore her relationship with her older children. While we have fallen in love with these children, our children, we are not their rightful parents. We set out to adopt a child without a family, an orphan. We realize that we have no other choice than to forfeit the adoption of our children, therefore restoring their family. These children are not true orphans, they are not adoptable. They do not belong in an orphanage, they belong at home, with their birth family.

Two mothers, one prayer…Lord you know what is best for my family, please lead…Trusting, each of us pursed what felt right, we followed our hearts and God's leading to make the best decisions for our families. The decisions that we have made have led each of us to this exact moment, where our lives intersect and families can be restored… Divine Intervention…

Looking back if there hadn't been the familiar T-shirt we wouldn't have accepted the oldest son's referral. If when we learned about the twins, we hadn't already felt a bond with the oldest, we might not have considered adopting them as well. If we hadn't received the donations, we would not have been able to pay the referral fee enabling us to keep the siblings together. If my parents had never crossed paths with our friends from Africa, we could have never known the truth…this could have so easily been a situation of a mother lied to in which she gives up her children, all 4 children are referred to different adoptive families, never knowing who they really are. A mother left wondering when her children will return, never to hold her babies again…heartbreak…evil…loss…

Our children's birthmother told my friend's sister, there in that hospital room," I prayed". I prayed for my children for their future, for our family. She was, out of love, sacrificing to give her children a better future, with the promise of knowing they would be home again, in her arms. She felt such desperation and then when the children were gone, she was so empty. Her arms were empty. She prayed, God did you hear me? I prayed for you to lead, but now my arms are empty. But, she never stopped praying. And as she prayed... we prayed. God, we want to change the life of a child, lead us. We set out to bring one child home…God has given us the opportunity to help 4 children home. While my heartbreaks for what will not be for our family, I am overcome with love and compassion for this mother who has found her children…Divine Intervention...

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