Friday, March 29, 2013

Oh, those eyes!

Be still my heart.


I'm staring at the picture of this little stranger who has captivated my heart and many of my thoughts.

I want to pinch her sweet cheeks. I want to cuddle her under my chin. I want to wipe tears away from those dark brown eyes.

Now, more than ever, my thoughts are consumed with what it's going to take to get her home--what hurdles do I need to leap over, what oceans do I need to cross, what doubts do I need to put aside--what will it take to bring her home?

To that end, we are more than thrilled that two days ago we received from our agency's lawyer in Lesotho legal paperwork--our official petition to the court to adopt our Sunshine. Tonight it will be notarized and tomorrow, Fed-exed back across the ocean for a legal action to take place sometime in April. The court will then issue a new birth certificate--and then we go get her. Holy Cow!

So, to get ready, we've been rearranging our house (more on that to come....), purchasing items that we need for a long trip to Africa with our family (Imodium ad, anyone?)

We've been so busy that I almost missed Easter--one of the most holy days of my faith, one of my most precious. There haven't been extra discussions on how Jesus came to die from my sins, how desperate and needy I am without him, how alone, wretched, and lost I am without his choosing to come to earth to rescue me.

There have been no crafty Pinterest craft-ivities, no in-depth conversations about how Christ spent each of the days of Holy Week, no homemade Easter dresses for the girls, no acting out washing each other's feet, definitely no bunny or egg crafts.

But that's okay, because I realized something a couple days ago. This entire week (and Lenten season) has been spent thinking on the act and gift and cost of the crucifixion and the hope of the resurrection. We're focusing all our efforts and pennies and efforts on bring home one precious child. With great JOY.

In a very small way, this echoes the story of Easter. Our act of running to rescue Sunshine is not unlike Christ's salvific work on the cross--because he loved me, us so much he completed the task set before him with Joy, because he knew it would bring us home, into the presence of the Father for all eternity.

This to me is beautiful and humbling and powerful--that I could be part of God's work here on earth, that I can extend his love to a new little person.

And now that I see her face and can stare into those eyes, even though I don't know her, every moment, insecurity, doubt, has been transformed into JOY!

From our house to yours, may your Easter weekend be filled with the humbling reminders of what it cost Christ to rescue from the squalor of your sin and Holy Spirit shivers when you are reminded of the grace given to you.


Wednesday, March 6, 2013

The Least of these

There are so many things I could write about right now. My brain is a jumble of thoughts, emotions, and to-dos. But this is what has been on my heart.

Lately, we've been loving the song Kings & Queens by Audio Adrenaline. The video is beautiful and if you haven't watched it and listened to the words, you need to. Right. Now.

Last night I was struck by something as I was singing through the lyrics in my head. They go like this:

Boys will be Kings,
Girls will be Queens,
wrapped in your majesty
When we love, when we love the least of these.

I have always been uncomfortable by people's assessment that children are "the least."  I've always loved the curiosity, life, love, enthusiasm, creativity, and passion I have seen in the actions of children. I love children, always have.

I love that Jesus called kids to himself. I smile just imagining what that time looked like: did Jesus tickle and hug and laugh with all of them? I think he did. Did he attend to each little boo-boo, no matter how small ? Did he smile widely as yet another child tried to climb into his overfilled lap? I believe so.

I know there are many very, very important people who think that children aren't worth their time, resources or money. And many suffer for it. There are children across the entire world who are neglected, hungry, scared, abused, used as pawns, and forgotten by their families, by their countries, by their churches, by Christians.

But, last night, I realized that my Sunshine, my dear precious girl, is not least. She has a heritage and a name, she has a history and a new family, she has a place in my heart. She is loved by her Creator God.  Her life was bought by Jesus Christ. She has a holy inheritance.

She has been embedded on our hearts, there are few moments when she is not on my thoughts.
She is not forgotten.
She is no longer "least."