I have a story to tell.

I have one story that I want to tell. I have been wanting to tell this for years but it is so painful that I cry each time I think about it still. It is about a little girl with creamy brown skin and two big beautiful brown eyes that keep you and hold you there...forever. It is about a girl with long skinny brown legs and arms that love to hug and be held. This was the first child that I deeply loved.
 When I lived in India, before I was married and before I had children, I met a child named Gudiya. I saw her everyday as I spent every day at her orphanage. I was working on a painting for the director of the orphanage who was in hiding due to serious threats made to him for helping the orphans. I ate with the kids, played, worshiped the one true God with them, cried with them, watched parents drop their children off and cried with the parents, prayed with them when there was no more water...oh the crying and the blessings I saw first-hand that summer. Gudiya was my first baby. She was probably about 3. She clung to me. To be honest, I clung to her too because I adored her and loved her. I had never loved a child like this before. We did not talk about when I was leaving India because it was too painful. But the day did come. It did, and my heart feels so heavy now, as I type this and remember what that day felt like. I dreaded saying goodbye to these children, and to my Gudiya. We talked about it the days leading up to it to prepare the children, and for my heart too, but it did not help. That last evening came, and it was time to say goodbye.

The driver was waiting at the gate. I said goodbye to everyone, but no Gudiya. I searched the orphanage for her. I started to feel hurt that she was not there to say good bye. I searched the childrens' room again and found six thin little brown bodies as close to each other as possible, lying on a mat on the floor sleeping. I knew the one in the middle was my little Gudiya. I talked to my Indian friend about waking her up so that I could say goodbye, and then I heard sobbing coming from below. I looked down at the little sleeping girls and every body was shaking from their cries. I started to cry and of course am right now as I type this and relive the pain I had when I realized they were only pretending to be asleep so that they wouldn't have to say goodbye. They didn't want to say goodbye again. They had learned how painful goodbyes were. This is to this day one of the most painful moments in my life. This is one of the moments I think of any time I feel discouragement in this adoption. These children need us and they need us to step up for them and love them. They have had to say good bye to their mommies and daddies, to their families. To their hopes and dreams. They need someone to look them in the eyes and tell them that they are important, that they are wanted, and that they were made by a creator who loved creating every part of them. They need someone to hold them and tell them that they have a God who will NEVER leave them.

This story is what drives me to make my children feel LOVED. They are so precious and I want them to feel that way. There are definitely hard moments being a mom. (a dad too of course) But the love for these kids and the precious moments more than out-weigh the hardships. I love M's sleepy eyes, big smile and messy hair when she wakes up in the morning. I love how her days are full of dancing, running and getting dirty from playing outside so much. And I love how much K loves stories about Jesus and reading and playing with his toy tractors. These kids love it when I look them in the eyes and tell them that I love them and that I think they are so special. When I kiss their faces and hug them I watch them smile, because they feel so wanted and loved. Every child in EVERY part of this world needs this.