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?
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
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'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.
Friday, December 17, 2010
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...
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.
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.
Friday, December 10, 2010
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.
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.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
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