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?