A Little Girl

Many an Irish property was increased by the lace of a daughter’s petticoat.  ~Irish Proverb

You, Blogosphere, are the first to know this; I’m not even telling my parents or family, because I can’t stand it when they are upset over my infertility, failed adoption, or the like. I can handle almost anything, but not when my family is upset on my behalf. OK, here goes:

*deep breath*

Remember Pastor Cliff that I’ve talked about before? Back in the late summer of 2007, Rob and I went to dinner with him and his wife and he alluded to being Rob’s mentor, and possibly groom him for taking over his own church. Neither Rob or I felt that it was the thing to do, and after several weeks, graciously declined. There were extenuating circumstances which we couldn’t change, and that meant, sadly, that we had to say NO to something which we wanted to say YES to.

So Pastor Cliff’s wife came into my Work yesterday and took me to the side. She told me that our mutual friend related to her that Rob and I are going to be Foster Parents (as soon as they do the home study!) and are we interested in adoption?

Me: Yes of course!

PC’s Wife: Well…. my sister is an Elementary Principal in Cornell (a nearby town) and there’s this little girl… she’s been in foster care already, and adopted already, and her adoptive father has abused her. She’s been taken away from the adoptive family, and now they are searching for a new adoptive family. She’s the sweetest little girl, ever. And now she’s in a group home.

Me: [in my mind] OK. Doesn’t this have to go through the state? What does she mean by abused? What a FREAK of an adoptive father, and why wasn’t he better investigated?!? Is this little one in therapy? Why didn’t the mom leave the dad and still take care of the little girl? What kind of dysfunction is that, anyway!?  We’ll still have to have a homestudy, no doubt. And what does she mean by a group home? Surely they didn’t put a 6-year-old in Juvie.

So, PC’s Wife is going to get some more information and get back to me. My coworker, Joan, is horrified that someone would “yank my chain again” (her words, not mine). Joan doesn’t understand that UNCERTAINTY is the name of the game when it comes to adoption. Joan doesn’t understand (because she has 3 sons, 3 daughters-in-law, and 8 grandchildren) that any amount of heartache is OK with me as long as it gets us one step closer to having a family.

Why this has to be such a fight, I have no idea. Why my heart has to be engaged, I just don’t know. But I do know that the Lord is already preparing my heart.

I went shopping at Wal-Mart this morning while I was in Flint. I passed by a display of shoelaces. I took 5 steps past them, then went back and picked them up. Something clicked in my heart. I am not sure why, but I needed to buy them.

Perhaps this token reminded me of the little girl who, even if we never meet her, needs prayers. Or perhaps this serves as a reminder to pray for the first baby we didn’t end up with. I just know that I felt strongly, and I had the $1.50 to spare, and so I bought them, kind of with a bit of hope in my heart that very soon I can give them to a little girl who’s gone through way too much in her young age.

 

 

 

 

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