Funny how when I'm feeling something - and start surfing adoption blogs - it seems other moms are struggling with those exact same feelings too.
Like the fact of how you can become so engrossed with an adoption in the same way you become obsessed with a pregnancy. Remember?? Searching babycenter.com? Searching baby name sites? Actually reading books about 'What to Expect'? (And then, with Baby #3, just trying to remember when your next o.b. appt. was??? Much less read a book?)
But baby #4 - has me hooked. Reading been-there-done-that blogs. Reading articles. Reading moms-in-waiting blogs.
Everything comes back to adoption.
So when I saw a young girl on
Compassion's website, a beautiful, 15 year old girl - instead of the usual desire I have to love Compassion kids - this one was different. What if? What if that 15 year old girl
was my baby's mother? She was 15. An only child in the home. With a mentally ill mother. And she was
above average in high school.
Above average.
What about here in the US? What chance would a 15 year old in the same situation have? Yes - she may be an over-achiever but as the only child in a single parent household, much less a mentally ill parent - what are the chances she would graduate? Much less get a college education? Much less live her life to the fullest? She would most likely fall into society's trap - going to work early. Trying to make ends meet. Trying to take care of her mother. But with our nation's package of benefits, food stamps, housing help, disability payments?
Now imagine that same, beautiful, over-achieving child in Africa. Without Compassion - where would she be? What would that child,
CHILD, have to do - to make ends meet? Education would be out of the question. A real job would be out of the question. A real life --- or a life filled with heart-ache, most likely abuse, most likely letting her body be used, just to scrape together the money needed to take care of herself and her mother. And then what if that abuse led to an unplanned pregnancy, and possibly a death sentence in an unwanted disease. At 15?
That could be the story of my baby's mother. And as much as I desire to hold my child - never,
never would I wish that story on any young woman. Much less a child.
But unfortunately, that is the story of millions of women, no girls, worldwide. Adoption doesn't take away those stories, it just tries to help pick up some of the pieces from those broken dreams. And to make a new dream for that little one who would not have stood a chance after being left on the steps of an orphanage. After her young mother can't afford to take care of her and can't bare to watch her child die of starvation or illness. Adoption isn't a fairy tale. It is a small band-aid to try to fix a huge, gaping wound. A wound of 147 million children as we speak.
But back to that 15 year old Gebreloa. SHE is in Compassion's program. Her schooling provided for. Her health monitored. Her mental wellness and social needs met. The love of Christ introduced to her. So in hope - I pray - that that 15 year old will be a success. Because, with Compassion, I have seen many success stories first hand.
But I also know - what could that above-average 15 year old accomplish with someone beside her? Cheering her on? Encouraging her to stay in school? To better herself for the sake of herself and her mother? Praying for her? Helping to lead her to the strong arms of Christ?
Her story could be so much different. And only someone like you could help write that story. Would you?
Gebreola Shiferaw - I'm pleading for someone to sponsor her. She is only one child. But one child that deserves to be a child - and not a mother to
my baby or someone else's.
James 1:27 Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.To search for a different child by birthday, gender, sex, or country - Click
here. There are thousands of other Gebreola's with stories to be written.
Day 10 of our trip was to be our last. I would love to say I cherished every moment of it - but getting out of bed that last day was tough. I was sick and I was tired. I wasn't able to eat much. And I really missed MY babies. BUT... God in his wisdom, took me back to a place of joy and of rest, knowing that we had come for a reason. On that last morning we visited one last Child Survival Program (CSP) in Addis Abada. At this program were the most beautiful children, the most loving mothers, and a wonderful morning to book-end our time in this beautiful country. Who wouldn't smile when greeted by these little munchkins??
It was here that I met the woman I had spoken of in a previous blog that volunteers with mothers in the community. To hear her talk about "so many disabled babies", and once again, see these beautiful and healthy children - I knew Compassion had made a difference in the lives of these mothers. Just the weight that must be lifted when you know that your child will not starve to death, or die of a preventable disease like diarrhea or malaria, must free these mothers to instead hug their babies every day, without the fear of loosing them. And to know that your baby will have the opportunity to go to school, to learn, to just be a child - is priceless.
It is a gift that we take for granted everyday. Yes, I worry about my children. But my worries are more the "what ifs". Sex. Drugs. Pregnancy. Homosexuality. Atheism. Selfcenteredness. Naivete. Most of those worries are for another day and not the survival in the here and now. (Although Braeden likes to test that theory...)
In that church, we had a wonderful morning playing with those babies and it really put my heart at peace. If it had not been for our ride to the center through the poverty and the dirt, if we had just been placed in the little church compound, you would never know that we were in a place of immense poverty. Now I don't want to brag about the wonderful thing that the great America was able to bring to those mothers and children. It wasn't like us high and mighty Americans were happy to see what great things our money could do in that barren land. Now follow me here: instead - it was mothers meeting mothers. God's children playing with God's children. We were not giving to them, not blessing them with our presence. God had found a way to level the field and bring His blessings to His people in that land. And we were there to be able to witness that and to see the smiles His gifts had born. To remember with humility that those children are healthy, and smiling, and playing - because God gave to us, so we could give to them. And that was my peace. It's not about us. It's all about His children.
**90% of Child Survival Project babies meet their developmental milestones on time.
**At the first CSP project we toured, over 1000 mothers stood in line for the available 50 slots. **Why not help more? Because we need you to help first.
Matthew 25: 34-36,40 "Then the King will say to those on his right, 'Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.'... "The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'"
