One

So, after a week or so of finding out more information, we have decided to pursue the adoption of one little boy.  We are still awaiting the acceptance of our application with our new agency, and then we begin the final paper chase to get all documents to them within 30 days (a very reasonable goal, I think).  Once the paperwork is complete, we should be able to fly to the DR Congo within 6-9 months to bring him home.  So, it has been an exciting time.  We are praying for him, and I can picture him in my rearview mirror when driving around town, holding my hand in the parking lot, or climbing into the bunk beds we will soon be adding to our home. Needless to say we are excited.

With that excitement comes a bit of guilt.  My heart has been both joyful and heavy this week.  While we can look at one little face and think, "We want to make you part of our forever family," we have to look at other faces and essentially say, "We can't give you a home right now." And, honestly, that makes me feel guilty.  But, I think those feelings are sinful because they are rooted in my own pride.  See, I can't really "save" anyone.  I can't even "save" the one who we will bring into our home.  Sure, I can give him food, water, and lots of love (and at times, I may even do that poorly), but I can't save him.  Why? Because I am not Jesus Christ.  In Matthew 16:24-26, Jesus reminds us what He alone can offer: "If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul?"   Making our circumstances better here is not what really saves us.  He must save souls, both those in incredible wealth and incredible poverty.


I just finished reading the book, Kisses from Katie,  about a young American girl serving Christ in Uganda. While she has helped over 400 children receive food, education and medical care--and has adopted 14 young girls of her own--she still struggles over those who continue to suffer.  But, the Lord reminds her that "God's love made known is worth it, even if only to one [child]." (205) This reminds me of Luke 15, which is such a beautiful chapter because it shows through a series of parables the joy and rejoicing in heaven when ONE comes to know Christ.  So, this week I am trying to rejoice over the one and cry out to the One Who Saves for those I cannot bring home: Henock, Chancelle, Sandrine, and millions of other orphans both overseas and here at home. He knows them by name, He knows every hair on their head, He shares in their suffering and He alone can give life.