By Michelle Wallace
My sister wasn’t able to have children. But the dream of being a mommy led her and her husband to look into foster care. The program required couples to attend a series of classes. Parenting classes are good news for some of us who might not have had healthy parenting skills modeled to us growing up. Those of us who struggle with keeping a plant alive know the value of learning good parenting habits. All that to say, my sister, Jolie, and her husband enrolled.
Not long after enrolling, Jolie ran into an acquaintance at church. She was familiar with this lady’s struggle concerning her brother and his wife’s addiction. Presently, he was in jail, and his wife had disappeared again, leaving the children alone. The baby girl was barely one and the older daughter was not quite five. Their aunt arrived to find them half naked, with the older daughter searching for food to feed the baby; however, with six small children of her own, she explained to Jolie that she wouldn’t be able to keep them. Somehow, they both knew that this meeting was divinely orchestrated by God. A week later, the girls came to live with my sister.
We live in a culture of fatherlessness. If the state of our nation concerns you, we’re going to have to address this head on. How do we do that? It begins one child at a time.
A few years ago, I traveled with friends to an orphanage that we support in Vietnam. My friends had been drawn to a young girl who had been abandoned there by her mom. Before coming to the orphanage she was forced to sell lottery tickets on the street to feed her family. She was a sad, introverted, scared child. She might have been eight or nine the first time Kevin saw her, but when he saw her, his father heart melted. God wrecked my friend through those orphans, especially one lonely little girl.
Every six months or so, they would travel to the orphanage and spend time with her. Soon, she would begin to see them as her family, even though they lived a world apart. Adoption was closed at the time that I visited with my friends. I saw their hearts break when we left the orphanage each day to go back to the hotel.
One night, I woke up and was led to the passage of scripture that says, God settles the lonely in families. I knew it was a promise for them, and I shared it the next morning, but when we arrived that day, the head of the orphanage announced plans to put the little girl back on the street. They were devastated. She was getting older now. What if she was made to sell more than lottery tickets? What happened next still overwhelms me. While I was still reeling from the news, Kevin looked across the table and humbly said, “We know your love for these children, and we’re so thankful for how hard you work to care for them.” All eyes were on the woman who broke down and began to cry.
Today, adoption is open and my friends have made an application to bring their daughter home. The head of the orphanage wrote a letter on the family’s behalf. It’s the most beautiful thing to travel with them and see Tram now. She is no longer a frightened, withdrawn child but a bubbly, vibrant, happy little girl.
What about my nieces who were left to their squalor? They arrived at my sister’s home with only the clothes on their back. Those clothes were so soiled that they had to be thrown away. My sister’s church rallied around them to help with the cost of the adoption. My sister lives in Indiana and I live in Dallas, so they came with the girls to our home where we threw them a Texas-sized shower! They received so many toys and clothes we nearly had to rent a U-Haul to get them back.
On Sunday, we visited church with my nieces. Our church is large and has a security program where they take photos of each child. They enter the parents and children’s information together where they can be identified when parents pick their little ones up from Sunday school. Honestly, my older niece was adjusting but the baby never smiled. Her hair was very thin and coarse from lack of proper nutrition. My sister took her to the pediatrician who said it would just take some time.
A year went by and my sister came with the girls for a visit. We took them to church on Sunday. My baby niece was almost two then. She was so precious, but it wasn’t until we printed her Sunday school badge that it hit me. This wasn’t the same child. I stood there examining the picture, then my niece—the thick head of curly blond hair, the sparkle in her big brown eyes, the smile that was permanently plastered across her face; I started to cry. This is what love does, I thought. Only love.
When God wrote our story, it was all about family. Somehow the brokenness of our world has marred it to the point where we don’t know who we are. You may not be called to adopt, but we are all called in some way to defend the cause of the weak and the needy. When I rock those babies in the orphanage, I understand that I am rocking royalty. Their Father is the King. The world calls them orphans, but God calls them sons and daughters. I am mindful that this may be a tiny Daniel, or I may be holding an Esther in my arms. I whisper in their ear, “You’re a child of the Most High. Do you know who you are?” Romans 8:15 tells us that in Christ, the resurrection life we received from God is not a timid, grave-tending life. It’s adventurously expectant, greeting God with a childlike, “What’s next, Papa?” God’s Spirit touches our spirits and confirms who we really are. We know who he is, and we know who we are… father and children; and we know we are going to get what’s coming to us… an unbelievable inheritance!
Connect with Michelle at HandoftheKing.com
