[Click here to read "Adoption Journey: Part 1"]
In July 2013, we got a call from CPS that Philip's sister had relinquished her rights, and a judge had placed 5-month-old Asa with us.
I wept.
For how heart-breaking and selfless a decision that must have been for her.
For that precious little boy with all his hurts and healing.
For me. Heart-broken and yet thrilled. Scared and yet determined.
Silencing selfish thoughts one by one as they attempted to have a voice.
Shortly after hearing the news, Philip and I headed to Florida with the youth choir. Riding in the front seats of a church van, we processed together ... asking sideways questions then staring down the road ... wondering when we'd arrive at the answers.
I realized I was battling my own attachment issues ... Whole-hearted, life-long commitment to a child I had yet to hold.
(Besides the solitary newborn photo with Philip, I didn't even know what he looked like.)
God knew precisely what I needed ... hour upon hour of riding down a highway ... staring straight ahead with road noise and backseat chatter muffling into a strange, loud clarifying silence.
Just before stopping at a steak house for supper, we received the first digital photos from Asa's attorney ad litem.
(Mercy, he was so adorable.)
We showed our group and they responded with such sweet encouragement. I will forever treasure the special atmosphere within which the Lord appointed our story to unfold.
I remember wanting to scroll through the photos again and again ... giving God every opportunity to miraculously grow my love for this precious child.
I squeezed my memory hard to imagine life with a 5 month old. Sitting up? Crawling? Babbling? Oh snap, I gave our stroller away. And our high chair. And ... oh snap.Waiting to be seated for supper, I asked Philip if he remembered anything about 5-month-olds. We continued to whisper our nervousness with hopeful solidarity.
Sipping our sodas, we looked across the restaurant to discover a young family eating together. A dad, a mom, and a baby squirming around in what little room was left in her carrier.
Philip and I smiled at each other as we realized in the same moment that God was graciously offering to soothe our anxious curiosities.
Philip walked over, shook the dad's hand, and asked how old his daughter was.
"Just turned 5 months," he replied.
But we already knew that:)
*to be continued
[Click here to read previous posts on Adoption]
