Piggy-backing on my husband's facebook status today, I will share a short story about a couple we met while waiting for court in Ethiopia.
They are a couple of 60 years. They are from Spain. Their beautiful skin and healthy body shows it. She held a stuffed animal and he held a briefcase. They sat down next to us, in a room otherwise full of Ethiopians. Their English was decent, but we had to concentrate to understand each other. They were giddy. You couldn't miss them.
After some small talk, it was obvious that we were both there for adoptions. The usual questions were asked: "How old? Boy or girl? What region are they from?"
And then, the husband shared more of their story. They are 60 years old (you would not have guessed it by their appearance). They have been in process with a Chinese adoption for 6 years now and still await progress there. In the meantime, they started this Ethiopian adoption and have been waiting 2 years. At home, they have a 20-year-old biological son with Downs Syndrome. His name is Angel. They were there to give their consent for this Ethiopian adoption of a 3 year old boy. They told their agency, "We have no preferences. Girl or boy doesn't matter. Age doesn't matter."
They smiled as they showed me his picture. They are so proud of this new son they will take home soon. This little boy now has a mother and father who take pride in him and show him off like he is their prince. Praise God.
On this orphan Sunday, I choose to open my mouth once again for those who cannot. If only you could see the faces and hold the hands of the children in this world who cry out for a parent. We saw only a fraction of the 4 million in Ethiopia and I pray that God will continue to put them in our face and in our path.
Our fight for Jude is not over yet. After a blow to the heart on Friday, we are refreshed and ready to wait some more. This is all just a part of the concrete.
John 14:18 "I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you." ~Jesus
James 1:27 Pure and undefiled religion before God and the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their trouble, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world.