These are the kinds of things that move me

I read this excerpt on a new blog I was referred to today . . .

My sister-and-brother-in-law are on a plane bound for Africa* tonight.  It is a momentous occasion for them.  They are going to pick up their new son.  He is five-years-old.  I am so excited for them.  Jodie wrote today,

"We’re on our way. I’m sitting on the plane as I write, filled with wonder that this day has actually arrived. Paperwork has been approved, bags have been packed, preparations have been made, and we’re actually on our way to see our son. It feels surreal, dream-like."

Jodie met a certain little boy on a mission trip over a year ago.  He had been living in an orphanage for several years.  He has watched most of his friends leave to be adopted . . . and has been waiting and asking for a family of his own.  Jodie could not shake the connection she felt with him.  Several months later, Michael went on the same mission trip, and felt the same pull.  When he came home, he talked to Jodie about it.  She shared her own feelings that had been growing into a conviction that this boy was to be a part of their family.  They moved into action.

It was not an easy process.  This country does not usually adopt to the United States.  But he had been waiting for a family for so long, and there were no placements available.  Prayers were sent.  Mountains were moved.

The process has been so uncertain that Michael and Jodie never shared their plan with this boy they were working so hard to adopt.  Jodie went on another mission trip, and while there, she skyped with Michael, holding their son-to-be in her lap.  As they said their goodbyes, he said with conviction to Michael, "And now you will come to fetch me."  He knew.

AND NOW THEY GO TO FETCH HIM.

These are the kinds of things that move me. This brings tears to my eyes.

I wanted to talk about how, when we called our Christian agency about a healthy African American boy from LA county who was in need of a home, we were told that they had no prospective adoptive parents willing to accept a placement of a black child.  NOT ONE.

These are the kinds of things that move me. This brings tears to my eyes.

I wanted to talk about what responsibility we have to caring for our world's orphaned and abandoned children, and the small part adoption can play in that effort.  I wanted to talk about how much we should all be bothered by the numbers of children in our world who are missing out on basic human needs.  Security.  Love.  Affection.
I wanted to say that we should all be doing something.  Not everyone should be adopting.  But we should be doing something.  And we should all be a little sick about it.

These are the kinds of things that move me . . .