beauty from ashes

This blog post is probably one of the most difficult ones I've had to write.  The words are coming to you through tear streaked cheeks and eyes.  I looked in the mirror tonight and find it hard to recognize the face that's staring back.  I never used to look this tired.  Stress has taken its toll and I realized that I have a huge bag under my left eye that seems to have developed over the last few months and won't go away.  The hour drive home this afternoon from the judges' office, seemed like an eternity.  The refreshing breeze through my hair and sun on my face just wasn't enough to dry my tears.  I looked in my lap and held onto the most beautiful baby a little tighter and closer than ever.    " How am I going to break the news to the kids?" I knew I needed to be strong enough by the end of this drive back to face them and comfort them.  They waited all day for an answer.  One that I was not ready to give them..... one I wasn't ready for nor ever would be.

We were never expecting to take care of a baby when we first came last fall.  I didn't imagine in my wildest dreams that Matt and I would ever have more kids for that matter.  I always wanted to adopt but it never really was important to Matt.  It wasn't until a few months ago that I was reminded of a vision God gave me about ten years ago.  It was a vision of a tiny brown eyed, brown skinned, brown haired girl.  I don't know if it was the endless episodes of "Dora the Explorer" but I tucked that away and had almost forgotten about it.  Fast forward a few years later to an orphanage down a dusty rural road in Los Pinos where we met and fell in love with not one but four.   I thought "wow God you really are funny".   I was expecting a little girl around the age of 3 and certainly not more than one.  Since first coming in 2009, our family has travelled back and forth and even lived here for a time.  When we  came back last  fall we were introduced to a tiny bundle; brown skinned, brown eyed, and brown haired... actually black and a full head,and of course we were smitten.

I have wrestled with the unknown of her future and many nights laid at the foot of her crib, praying and crying.  Is it better to have loved than not at all?  I have always said that she belongs to God first... not any institution or government.   Our fist appointment with the judge was back in July. Her file that had no name was given a name... Lilly Grace Wilson.  As the Family/Children Service representative read over her file, the folder of photos was passed around the table.  I choked back the tears seeing the pictures of the police holding her and the place in the street where her little box was found.  Every time we drove through the town where she was found, I would pray for her mom. I don't know what situation she was in that she felt like she had to abandon her child but God knows.


We have been in a whirlwind of events, being told one thing and then something altogether completely different.  My hearing went fuzzy as I watched the lips of the judge move and couldn't make out what he was saying.  The tears quietly fell in the courtroom today and there wasn't a thing I could say.  I wanted to tell the judge how much I love her.  I wanted to tell him that in my eyes, she is ours. I wanted to tell him how I tried to breast feed her in those early days.  All the sleepless nights and how she has graced our family and brought complete joy in a very difficult move for my kids.   There was no transfer of care for us today.  We can't have her in our home anymore.  She has to go to a place she has never really known.  She "belongs" to the safe house and there's nothing more that can be done.   I walked out onto the street today sobbing.  I couldn't take it anymore.  I sat on the curb with my face buried in my arms... In that moment I realized how the girls from the safe house feel when they need a hug and someone was there to give one..... no one came for me... and I felt so incredibly lonely.   I feel like someone is taking away "my daughter mercedes".  Matt put on his best and held it together.  He had too... we had a drive ahead of us.  I later found him standing in the garage tear stained eyed and wishing he could make things better.  I have cried so much I think I have nothing left, and then I walk past her crib and peer in to see her peacefully sleeping and the weeping starts again.   I wish a FACS worker could come over tonight and talk us through this.  To tell me what I am feeling is completely normal and how to handle the next hours, days and weeks ahead.  I wish systems were different and better for the kids here. There is fostering but it is a volunteer position making it hard to find families willing.

I believe God spared her and has the most beautiful plan for her. After all He created her.  He has made beauty from ashes.  And I am so, so thankful for being a very small part of that.    This is a story I need to share.. it is part of our journey.  I wish I knew the out come. I wish I could flip ahead and see the ending.  For us .. for Lilly.  God knows it.  and He is right in the middle of it with us.
Gal 6:9- "So let us not become weary in doing what is good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up".

       If you can hear that, it's the sound of my heart breaking.