Reflections

I awoke early Christmas morning in anticipation of the day's excitement. The hum of the coffee maker was soothing as I pulled the creamer from the fridge. After carefully turning the coffee into a sweet, creamy, somewhat coffee-tasting beverage, I turned on the tree and stuffed the stockings. I re-organized the presents under the tree for the third time before finally curling up on the couch the wait for the pitter patter of feet upstairs.

Christmas is my very favorite time of year. People are happier, the air is (sometimes) chilly and crisp, and I get to spoil my kids rotten. I also get more opportunities than usual to tell them about Jesus and his love for them. I remember His birth as I reflect on His sacrifice. And I give thanks.

This Christmas was different, however. I watched with joy as our kids opened their presents in very loud wonder. My eyes met with my husband's as we sat on the couch and played tea party with two very cute little people. We celebrated Jesus' birth with friends we couldn't be more blessed to know.

But despite the cheer and laughter, there was a hole in my heart.

You see, halfway around the world there is a 7 year old girl who doesn't know what Christmas is. She did not awake to the smell of cinnamon rolls and the sound of Christmas music in the kitchen. She didn't snuggle in bed with her family before running down the stairs to find presents under the tree. She wasn't here to unwrap the handmade blanket her grandma gave her the night before. She missed the stockings and breakfast and trampoline jumping. She missed the hugs and kisses and the Christmas story.

And I missed her.

But I rejoiced in the hope that she will be with us next Christmas. I rejoiced knowing that we are doing everything we can to make sure she never spends another Christmas alone. Her story is only just beginning.

There are other kids who don't have that hope. Kids who may not ever spend Christmas with a family. Children who may never learn what Christmas IS. Children who may never know the Savior whose birth we celebrate.

And that's the cause of the hole in my heart. Yes, I long for the day we bring Miah home, but I am at peace because I know that day will come. The despair in my heart is not for our daughter's current living situation, but for the children who will never be held or loved or wanted. The children who have no hope.

I don't know that a heart can be mended once it has been broken this way. I don't know that it SHOULD be mended. I pray that my heart will always be broken for orphans. May I never forget their struggles. And may I never stop doing everything in my power to pray for, advocate for, and love them.

A new year is coming. It's a big year for us. It's the year we bring our daughter home. It can also be the year you decide to step out and do something great. Is your heart broken like mine? Do you weep for these children? Did you know you can DO something very tangible to change the life of a child? Are you ready to step out in faith? Adoption is beautiful. Will you consider it? I can tell you without a doubt that it is the most exciting, powerful, inspiring step we have ever taken. Will you take that step with us?