My Girl

I know she's my daughter.
How do I know?
Because I prayed, and her face appeared.
Because I asked for a solid word, and her name was given.
Because every time I catch wind that someone may be inquiring about her, I get scared. I'm terrified to lose her. I should be thrilled, because it means one less orphan. My head knows this, but my heart just wants to scream, "Me! Me! I'll bring you home! I want to be your Mommy!"

I've mentioned surrendering. I've said that it is my weakness.
I stand by this.

I'm trying to surrender all. I really, truly am trying. But I think I may be failing.
I just want to hold my girl. Is that so much to ask?
Is saying, "She's mine; let me go get her!" really such a bad thing?

My girl... lonely and waiting. Someone else may get to her before I do.  Or no one will get to her, including me.
My girl... can't get her out of  my mind. She's my daughter, and she's living without me.  Let me rescue her!
My girl... I'm trying. I promise you, I really, truly am trying. I sure hope that I'm not failing.

Surrender...
what does that mean again?

Elizabeth Update

Her family has finally made the announcement!  I can't wait to follow the journey this family takes to bring Elizabeth home. I have passed on the monies donated here (thank you all again!!) to bringing her home (I realized after doing so that Paypal deducted a certain amount in fees, so I will be sending a check-- to avoid extra fees-- of the difference to make sure each dollar goes directly into Elizabeth's grant fund.

I'm SO thrilled to even say those words:  "Elizabeth has a grant fund!" As an older child, she had a shared account with all of the other older girls, since adoptions of this age group are so few and far between. Now, since she has a family, a grant fund has been set up directly in her name to help the family bring her home. Which means I can help them directly! I've got lots of fundraising ideas up my sleeve... not that I'm any good at actually bringing funds in, but I actually (am one of the few people who can honestly say) ENJOY fundraising. No, I don't like begging people for their hard earned cash. No, I really don't like when they turn their back to me or act as if I've grown an extra head.
Why do I like fundraising? Honestly, I like donating. I like giving money to other people. I like making others feel good, because (is this selfish?) it makes me feel really good. So even though I get very few positive responses, I like trying to convince others to give up a little of that hard earned cash, just so they too can see how nice it feels afterward. And in this case, it is more than a cause to me... it is a MISSION! I want Elizabeth coming home the moment the paperwork allows. Money cannot be the reason this child is sitting alone for even one more night.

So... to those that chose to give their hard-earned cash to set this child free, thank you. If anyone else would like a little of the "feel-good" pie, you can donate to Elizabeth's grant account here.

I've Got the Joy Joy Joy Joy Down in My Heart

Yes, my heart is full of joy!

The news came a few days ago...

ELIZABETH IS GOING HOME!!!!!

She has a family. I don't know who they are, but I cannot WAIT to find out.  I am still completely set on bringing her home. She is constantly on my mind and in my prayers, and I am thrilled that she is being rescued. Her family is no less than one of superheroes in my book.

For awhile there, I thought she would be ours. I've had such an overwhelming desire to save her, such a burdened heart for her, that I thought, God must be calling us to rescue her. And yet, the obstacles were so great. Barriers that I couldn't have even imagined, making it nearly impossible for us to even have a chance.

And yet, I still felt such utter despair for her, I couldn't let go. I couldn't NOT try to figure out a way. Now, she has a family.  I have my answer; she isn't ours. You know what? That's okay. I'm completely at peace, fully overjoyed, absolutely elated beyond words that there is someone out there, right now, who has said, YES, we are bringing her home.

Who are you? I can't wait for you to speak up.  I can't wait to show you what others have already done to start helping to get her home. I cannot wait to tell this family how much I want to support their journey, that I will do my part in rescuing Elizabeth.  I want this child home, wherever that home may be!

And I am thrilled that I can again travel the road on which I had begun this blog.  Because shortly before I had become burdened over Elizabeth, I had prayed for answers; I had prayed for God to be specific, to let me know if I too, will journey for a child some day. God had shown me a bit of what He has in store. She's out there. I'm positive about it. I know her name, I know her face. And now, I've had to do the one thing that I struggle with more than anything else:
Surrender.

The road I follow is a path that I can't see.  Every now and then, I catch a glimpse, so I run ahead. But each time, I end up completely lost, throwing my hands in the air, realizing that I am getting nowhere.
So now, the lesson is learned. Instead of taking my own road, I've surrendered to a guide. I choose Him. He is my shepherd, and I am the sheep.  Helpless without my master, I am letting Him take complete control, and I'm following wherever He may lead. No more running ahead, no more thinking I know the way.

I surrender all.

My heart hurts

Today, my heart is hurting.
I'm not quite sure what makes today significantly different than any other. But today, it is in extra pain for sweet Elizabeth.
I'm thinking about the family of Amanda Knox. They do everything they can to save her; they are able to speak to her, to visit her, to check up on her. But they cannot free her. Their pain must be so great. They have to go on with life, but she is never far from the forefront of their thoughts.
This is how I feel about Elizabeth. I cannot forget her. I watch my boys, I smile and laugh at their silly behaviors. I sit next to my husband and enjoy my time with him. All the while, a little girl whom I have never met plagues a part of my brain. I smile, but not too big. I laugh, but a little less than I used to. I speak, but not without conviction and pleads constantly being restrained.
The boys and I pray for Elizabeth daily. We pray that God keeps her safe. That her joy isn't completely lost; that a caregiver has taken pity on her, and tries to do a little something extra to keep her alive.

Elizabeth's life is at stake, and until she is safe in the arms of her family, I don't know that my heart will find true peace.

UNDER CONSTRUCTION

Thanks for joining our journey!

Note: This post was kept under draft but written Nov. 29th. Due to editing, it has been carried to the top of the page. 

Thank you for taking the time to check out our journey along the road to adoption. We are only at square one, in fact, pre-square one, is probably a more accurate term (assuming it exists, or assuming you understand, if it does not exist.)


Her assigned name is just for internet listing purposes (all kids are assigned a pseudo-name when listed through agencies in order to protect their privacy.)  Before I saw her face, I already knew the name we will call her. It came to me while deep in prayer, asking God to make His will known. Acting purely on instinct, I opened the Bible and began reading. The story was one that I needed at that moment; it was the story of Elijah and the Widow.
This story is one completely based on faith in God's provisions.  It would have been so easy for the widow to tell God's prophet, Elijah, that she couldn't fulfill his request of her. Instead, she gave all that she had, and was blessed with a new life because of it.
This story gave me a peace and strength, knowing that following God's call to go wherever He asks, is well worth any personal cost.

Immediately after reading the story, I turned a few pages and landed upon the story of the Widow and the Jars of Oil.  (God commands us to care for the widows and orphans; how funny then, that as my heart was praying for orphans, I kept ending up on stories about widows!  God really does speak when we are willing to listen!)
This story was another confirmation to me, that God provides even in the most unlikely of situations.  If God truly wanted our family to bring an orphan into our home, than surely He can help us accomplish what it takes to make this happen!

I finished reading, and suddenly felt an overwhelmed with the knowledge that my daughter is waiting. At this same moment, I knew: Her name is Elisha. I asked God, if this is His voice, please, show me Elisha. Let me know.
And when I saw her, I knew.

It wasn't the first time I had seen her. In fact, I had seen her face on the Reece's Rainbow website many times before. I also smiled at how cute she is; I'd read her profile, and thought, "Gee, she sounds like a bit of work." And I'd move on to all the other beautiful faces.
This time, I couldn't move away. I stared endlessly at her. I read her profile. This time, it suddenly occurred to me how very, very well she'd fit into our family. How she already sounds so similar to my little boys; another little one who would rather get up and play than look at books, who falls asleep slowly and wakes up early, who struggles with speech but understands it all. Yes, I do believe she'll fit right in!

I hope you stick around and support us as we follow the long road to our little Elisha. I hope that you will celebrate the highs, and lift us up during the lows. God calls ALL of us to provide for the widows and orphans; this journey is the specific call that He has given our family.

This is my child