The dream that would never come true...

I am convinced it started within me when I was about 6. Maybe 7 or 8 or 10, but in my memory, 6. Our neighbors in New Mexico adopted a beautiful black little girl named LaSheka. Her new adoptive family was white, and she was the only girl amongst 2 or 3 rambunctious high-school boys. As I remember, she had a heart condition that required careful monitoring of her health. At whatever age I was at the time, I often overheard talk about LaSheka. In fact, many of my snapshots from childhood still include her, playing with us in the yard, or around the table at a birthday party.

I remember when the family brought LaSheka home, there were so many new things to learn and adjustments to make. Her mom had to learn how to care for her and her curly black hair, much different than our own. As my big little ears learned more about the family, I determined I, too, would someday have a LaSheka. I was taken by the love this family had for one little girl. I was astounded by their willingness to knowingly adopt a child with health problems, and I was amazed at the idea that people who were different colors could still be siblings.

Fast-forwarding twenty or so years, childhood dreams seem very, well...childish. I didn't ever expect to have the means or know-how to adopt a child, let alone a child from far away with different skin and hair than mine. I believe God, in his infinite wisdom, knew this dream was dormant inside of me. When I married Ryan, we began to discuss Africa. We talked extensively about going there on a mission trip. Each time we looked for ways to go, though, none seemed right or reasonable. As I got to know people in our church who had adopted internationally, I sought to understand the process better and would often ask directed questions, hoping to find out how feasible it was. Gayle, specifically, was always willing to share new pictures of their children as they learned more about each one while preparing to go to China. Often she would mention organizations where I might find out more about international adoption. With each suggestion I would say, "If we went, it would be to Africa."

Slowly I became more convinced that this was a calling, planted when I was very young, and slowly growing into a hurt for the children of Africa and a longing to travel there to see the conditions for myself. Our first move toward the reality of adoption came when we saw a picture of a beautiful child from Uganda on Thomas and Courtney's refrigerator. We found out they supported the child through Compassion International and soon found one of our own, Simeon, who lives in Rwanda. For a while, letters to Simeon and the knowledge that we were helping his family care for him assuaged my longing, but it was Ryan who took over from there.

Being more hands on, Ryan didn't feel we were doing enough through Compassion. He wanted us to have our own children, those we were responsible for caring for daily instead of sending a monthly check and a birthday or Christmas gift. We discussed adoption together with our eyes on the continent of Africa. With the floodgates opened for my old dream to be fulfilled, I began to badger Ryan. We both wanted adopted and birth children, and both felt it they should be close in age (if we had any control at all). It was Ryan, however, after many months of discussion who said, "I think we should adopt first."

Why Africa? Look at the statistics, those dying of starvation, preventable disease, and malnutrition. Look at the beautiful children who care for other children in the streets because their average age of death isn't ninety-something like it is in the United States. Look at the beauty of the country and the impact of adoption on the lives of so many who might be able to one day return to care for their homeland.

Why Ethiopia? There is a well-developed system for adoption in this country. We meet qualifications for adoptive parents such as length of time married and minimum age.

Why a child of a different race? I know race matters, but our society has become much more accepting of multi-racial families, both natural and adopted. I see no reason to limit our family to children who look like us. Indeed, I feel we are called to accept those of other races, not only in word but in deed. For us, that deed is to welcome a child of a different color into our family.

Why now? Ryan and I have become convinced through prayer that God has a child designated for us. We feel called to seek that child and feel called to look in Ethiopia. God has told both of us in numerous ways that if we don't take the first step, we are not acting in faith that it is his plan, not ours that matters. If we had chosen not to mail the application envelope, complete with brief medical history and family photo, I believe we would have been acting in direct opposition to God's call to obedience.

We don't know what God has prepared for our family. We are only sure that as of Sunday, November 2nd, 2008, we have chosen to get out of the way and let God do as he wishes.

Rebecca