Author: Stephanie Smit

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Where Are My Green Pastures? {Together Called 2014}

“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.  He makes me lie down in green pastures.” 
Psalm 23:1-2

Green pastures.

We all want them, right?  Psalm 23 conjures up images of lush, green rolling hills, or perhaps an enormous meadow of knee-high green vegetation.

Seriously green.  Kentucky green.

Lush and more-than-enough.

What a gracious God we serve that he does indeed bless us at times in such huge ways that we feel this sense of being in those green, green fields, enjoying the enormity of his grace towards us!  Provision so full and complete.  More than what we expect.  But what if your adoption or parenting journey has you wondering…

Where are my green pastures?

You’ve struggled long enough.  The red tape continues to entangle you.  The wait doesn’t get any easier, in fact, it lengthens.

Your child is home, but so far as you can see there are no green pastures.  The night terrors take their toll on everyone’s sleep.  Your beloved child still feels like a stranger to you.  The stress of loving a hurting child is taking a toll on your marriage.

You ask, Where are my green pastures?

In my two-week hiking tour of Israel back in 2004, we trekked across the general area where David led his sheep, to see the setting of perhaps the most well-known passage of the Bible: Psalm 23.

And what we saw gave a whole new meaning to the concept of green pastures.  Take a look:

Aside from a few shrubs, you can see that these “pastures” are anything but green by our standards.  And yet, if you look closely, you can see a present-day shepherd still leading a flock of sheep over these very hills.

So what do the sheep eat? you may ask.  They are eating just one mouthful of young, green vegetation at at time, following the shepherd to the next mouthful. (See below.)

The sheep follow the shepherd’s leading, trusting that he will lead them to what they need.  They can’t just stand in one spot and eat their fill; they need to continue to follow their shepherd, staying near enough to hear his voice, to be lead to the next mouthful.
When the lush green pastures of God’s provision seem non-existent, you are not being forgotten or passed over or left alone.  Your Shepherd is right there, leading you to mouthfuls of His grace. Just the mouthful of grace you need to remind Him of His care for you.
As my husband and I went through some pretty deep and dark valleys in our adoption journey, we found God’s tender care for us revealed in these mouthfuls of green pastures; He continued to provide us with His grace for the day.  
The sermon that seemed as if it was written just for us.
The phone call from a friend.
The gift of a warm cup of coffee and a listening ear.
A note with an encouraging verse.
Mouthfuls of His grace provide through a community of believers who acted on His promptings.  Just enough to sustain us.  Just enough to encourage us to keep on the path, to remind us He sees us.
As you walk through your current valley, can you look back and see where God gave you a mouthful of green pasture?  Can you see how He has been providing grace for the day to remind you He is with you?  
This past weekend, at Together Called 2014, couples were encouraged to work together to make a list of where they have seen God’s provision of mouthfuls of green pasture.  They were encouraged to record how each had been a source of grace for the day to the other.  Husbands and wives shared with each other what a “mouthful of encouragement” would look like to them, so their spouse could look for opportunities to be used by God to provide grace for the day.  We are God’s hands and feet and He uses us to minister to each other, especially in times of struggle.
Have you felt defeated lately?  Left alone or abandoned by God?  Does your adoption journey feel hopeless and does it seem that He simply isn’t working in your journey right now?  Are you struggling for the strength to patiently work towards attachment just one more day?  Ask God to open your eyes to the mouthfuls of grace He is providing.
Can you think of some people God has placed around you who are in need of some grace for the day?  Will you listen for those God-promptings to pick up the phone or drop them a note of encouragement?  You can be the mouthful they need to make it another day.
“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.  He makes me lie down in green pastures.” 
Psalm 23:1-2
**NOTE: My Israel trip was led by Ray VanderLaan of Follow the Rabbi, and this blog post is based on one of the faith lessons he taught on our 2004 trip.**

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Stephanie Smit18 years in the classroom as a teacher was easy compared to parenting three little ones at home full-time. Through their three daughters, God has revealed Himself most clearly to Stephanie and her husband Matthew. He not only worked a miracle in giving them their biological daughter, He continued to show Himself in mighty ways throughout adoption journeys in China and Bhutan that were anything but normal. Nowadays she enjoys encouraging and connecting with other adoptive families through her work on “We Are Grafted In”.  You can read more about their family on their personal blog We Are Family.

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Science Questions

Always inquisitive and literal, my four year old looked at me at the end of our meal and asked, “Mom, how can God live in my heart if He is living in heaven?”

“Well, honey, God is everywhere, so He can live in your heart AND in heaven.”

“Even when we go on vacation?”

“Yep, even when we go on vacation. He can be in both places at the same time.  That’s kind of hard to understand, isn’t it?”

Looking puzzled she replied, “Yes, Mom.  That’s like a science question.”

To her, a “science question” is a really hard question – a question whose answer is either “I don’t know”, or is too hard to understand. As I pondered our little conversation, I couldn’t help but find so much truth in it.

Ask anyone who has adopted and they will likely tell you that it was during the course of their adoption that they saw God move in powerful, undeniable ways.  Those stories are such an encouragement to hear and are readily shared with others.

But most adoptive parents will also tell you that it was during the course of their adoption that they questioned God the most.   Why is this so hard, Lord?  Why are we hitting yet another road block?  Is this the child you would have us adopt?  Why are the feelings of love not coming as quickly as I assumed they would?  Why did our adoption fall apart?  When will the waiting end?  How can this be happening?

Hard, faith-testing questions. Questions that often have no earthly answer or explanation. 

“Science questions.”

We all have them.  And I dare say that those “science questions” are just as important to share as our “success stories”.  Sharing our struggles and questions – even unanswered ones – with each other allows us to experience authentic, faith-filled community.  You struggle with that?  I do, too!

It’s also important to keep approaching God with our questions.  He’s big enough to handle our questions.  Even our “science questions”.  And while He certainly could give us answers, He just may be more interested in having us wrestle with Him over the questions.

Wrestling requires closeness.

Wrestling produces strength.

Wrestling may also cause hurt (as it did when Jacob), but with God it will be a hurt that will serve as a reminder of the holiness of God and the intimacy of your relationship.

So Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him till daybreak. When the man saw that he could not overpower him, he touched the socket of Jacob’s hip so that his hip was wrenched as he wrestled with the man. … The sun rose above him as he passed Peniel, and he was limping because of his hip.
Genesis 32:24-25, 31

So share those questions with others in your faith-community.  Find support and community with others.  You are not alone in your questioning.  But also approach God with your questions. Wrestle with Him.  He longs to draw you closer to him and will use anything He can to get you there.

Even “science questions”.

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Stephanie Smit18 years in the classroom as a teacher was easy compared to parenting three little ones at home full-time. Through their three daughters, God has revealed Himself most clearly to Stephanie and her husband Matthew. He not only worked a miracle in giving them their biological daughter, He continued to show Himself in mighty ways throughout adoption journeys in China and Bhutan that were anything but normal. Nowadays she enjoys encouraging and connecting with other adoptive families through her work on “We Are Grafted In”.  You can read more about their family on their personal blog We Are Family.

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Typical {Referral Day Link Up}

I wouldn’t describe either of them as typical.

No, I’m not talking about my children – although the same statement could perhaps be true of them.  I’m talking about their referral day stories.  Both daughters came to us under very unique circumstances, so it stands to reason that their referral day stories are unique as well.

Take Miss A’s story, for example.  When we received Miss A’s referral, we had just hit rock bottom in our adoption journey – unsure of if God even wanted us to continue.  Perhaps this is how it all ends, we thought.  We don’t understand the what or the why, but we’ll trust Him wherever He leads.  And if that means not adopting, then so be it.

But our network of praying friends and our incredibly supportive agency worker encouraged us to stay the course, stay open to the possibility.  And so we did.  Sad as it is to admit now, we were anything but excited when “the new list” came out.  Missing was the typical nervous energy and excited anticipation of news of a match from our agency.  Defeated and worn down, we simply went to bed, deciding to check our email the next morning.

Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning. Psalm 30:5b

Logging into email the next morning, we found message from our agency worker. She had locked a child for us, a child with a need we had felt comfortable with. Sadly, still shell-shocked and feeling defeated, we had to admit we didn’t know if she was the one God wanted us to adopt.

We saw her beautiful, smiling face and read the facts of her file.  We talked endlessly with each other, with our prayer warriors, and with our agency worker. How gentle and patient they were as they walked us through our pain and doubt and uncertainty.

It wasn’t about her. Our doubt.  Our hesitation.  Our needing to process. None of it was about her. It was all about us…and Him.

Where He led us thus far in this adoption journey was filled with pain and questions. Would we – could we trust Him as He continued to lead?

My thoughts are nothing like your thoughts,” says the Lord, “And my ways far beyond anything you could imagine. Isaiah 55:8

So God did what He does.  He was patient with our questioning and wrestling and processing. He was powerful, moving mountains and infusing the undeniable confirmation we were so desperate to receive.  He was faithful, not leaving us to wonder where He was in this rock-bottom place.  He restored our hopes.  Dashed as they were, they were made new in ways that were beyond what we had imagined.

And in the end, He made it more than clear that this precious child – with twinkling eyes and robust cheeks looking at us through our computer screen – was most definitely our daughter.

I used to feel bad that her referral story wasn’t what I imagined to be typical – that we didn’t gush at first sight and instantly know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was ours.  Instead, I now see that her referral story is the best kind because it’s hers…ours. And through all of the private details and the ones I’ve shared here, God was telling us about Himself and His deep, patient, enduring, passionate, and abiding love for us…for her.

So, no.  I wouldn’t describe Miss A’s referral day story as typical. But if we’re honest, when we are following God’s plan, is anything typical?

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What about you?  Do you have a referral day story you’d like to share?  It may have happened years ago or just recently.  Perhaps you’ve never taken the time to write it all down, or maybe you’ve already written about your child’s referral day on your blog.  Whatever the case may be, we’d love for you to share your story with the WAGI community!  Use the link up below to provide a direct link to your referral day blog post.  And while you’re at it, take the time to visit and comment on other referral day stories.  It’s in sharing our stories that community is built and God is glorified!

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Stephanie Smit18 years in the classroom as a teacher is nothing compared to parenting three little ones at home full-time. Through their three daughters, God has revealed Himself most clearly to them. He not only worked a miracle in giving them their biological daughter, He continued to show Himself in mighty ways throughout adoption journeys in China and Bhutan that were anything but normal. You can read more about their family on their personal blog We Are Family.

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Too Much

The conversation has become an all too familiar one.  The hurt, frustrations and tears came to the surface with four simple words spoken softly as I hugged her:

I can’t get pregnant.

Having walked the road of infertility, I could identify with her feelings of hopelessness, heartache, and anger.  How can something that seems so natural be so difficult to achieve?  Why is (seemingly) everyone else pregnant?  What is God trying to teach me?  Why is it so hard?

But what stuck in my mind is something she repeated a couple times: I know God won’t give me more than I can handle, but today I feel like I just can’t handle it.

It was too much.

Haven’t we all been there?  That place where it all just feels like too much?  Too much fear of the unknown.  Too much of a challenge.  Too much heartache.  Too much pain.  Too much to endure.  Simply too much.

When we reach that place of too much, we often remind ourselves that God won’t give us more than we can handle, which leaves us feeling like maybe we just have to suck it up a bit more because these challenging circumstances, this life, should be well within our limits.

Do you realize that “God won’t give you more than you can handle” isn’t even in the Bible?  Seriously, it’s not.  I dare say, God DOES give us more than we can handle.  It happens all the time in big and small ways, doesn’t it?

Demanding toddlers.

Job uncertainty.

Infertility.

Job loss.

Death of a child…or parent…or spouse.

A failed adoption.

A terminally ill spouse.

A stillborn child.

A job transfer.

An unexpected diagnosis.

Isn’t it all just too much for us to handle?

I can think back to some hard stuff in my life.  The struggles with infertility.  The 11 month wait that stretched into an almost 4 year wait to adopt.  The big detour in our adoption from China.  Tackling an independent international adoption.  It was all too much for ME to handle.
I don’t like change
or the unknown
or uncertainty
or waiting.
But GOD?  God could handle it…and HE did…although it was often only in hindsight that I could see how he worked things out.  It may not always be the ending to the story that I may have envisioned, but I can see his hand at work.  I can see how HE got me through.  (And I am grateful that HE is the one writing the story of my life.)
My job (although I failed miserably at this at times) was to depend on HIM, lean on HIM, cry out to HIM.  Doing my best to walk in obedience, and trust what I knew in my head to be true, even when my heart couldn’t feel it.

It is about depending on HIM intentionally hour-by-hour or even minute-by-minute saying, “I can’t do this God. Please give me strength for the next half hour.” (Or the next procedure. Or the next ovulation test. Or the next family gathering. Or the next paperwork gliche.  Or the next interview.)

Years ago, as I sat in a parking lot collecting myself before heading in to see the fertility doctor for diagnostic testing that would predict our likelihood of ever conceiving, I put my head in my hands and prayed, “I just can’t do this.  I can’t walk in those doors.  I can’t smile at the receptionist.  I can’t hear what the doctor will likely tell me.”  And as clearly as if it were spoken aloud, I heard in my heart: My strength is made perfect in your weakness. 

Now THAT is biblical.  His strength is made perfect in {my} weakness. 

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.

2 Corinthians 12:9

Because of HIM, I walked through those doors and learned that our chances of conceiving were dismal at best.
Because of HIM, we somehow made it through an adoption trip full of surprises and heartache.
Because of HIM, we were able to complete an independent international adoption that most would have never attempted.
Because of HIM, we are able.  Not because He won’t give us more than we can handle, but because when He does give us more than we can handle, HE is able.  HE equips.  HE sustains.  HE directs.
HIS power is made perfect in OUR weakness.

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Stephanie Smit18 years in the classroom as a teacher is nothing compared to parenting three little ones at home full-time. Through their three daughters, God has revealed Himself most clearly to them. He not only worked a miracle in giving them their biological daughter, He continued to show Himself in mighty ways throughout adoption journeys in China and Bhutan that were anything but normal. You can read more about their family on their personal blog We Are Family.

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Their Normal

While I realize that our family has been formed a bit differently than most, to my children it is completely normal…as evidenced by some of the funny things they say:
Overheard as we drove past an airport…
That’s where people go to get their babies!

We often talk of traveling to get Miss A and Miss L, which always leads Miss E to ask…
Mom, where was I from?
She seems less than thrilled that she just came “from my tummy”.

Watching the Olympics we would often point out the athletes from China. To which Miss A replied,
“Just like me!”

At one point I think I said how a particular athlete was from China like Miss A, but he still lived there. Miss E was aback and said,
You mean he actually eats and sleeps there?
(As if it had never occurred to her that people live in China, but only come from China.)

Miss A came running into the room distraught during Olympic coverage saying,
Miss E say I not Chinese!
Oh, honey. You’re Chinese.

But she say I not Chinese! She say I USA!
Well, you are actually both.

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Stephanie

 

18 years in the classroom as a teacher is nothing compared to teaching three little ones at home full-time. Through their three little girls, God has revealed Himself most clearly to them. He not only worked a miracle in giving them their biological daughter, He continued to show Himself in a mighty way throughout adoption journeys in China and Bhutan that were anything but normal. You can read more about their family on their personal blog We Are Family.

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What {my} faith looks like

Matt loves to surprise me, but not in a way that I appreciate. He’ll frequently come up to me and say, “Close your eyes and open your mouth,” so he can surprise me with a treat. I can’t stand it when he does this. It’s not that I think he’s going to put something gross in my mouth, it’s that I don’t know what to expect. Sweet? Salty? Spicy? Crunchy? Gooey? Small? Big?

So, instead of readily closing my eyes and opening wide, I close my eyes, then peek, then close my eyes again, then peek, then close. Then I open my mouth as little as possible and cringe as I await the mystery food.

Which leads him to say, “You don’t trust me.” And, I tell him I do. I do trust him. I just hate the unknown…not knowing what to expect…which makes it look like I don’t fully trust him.

In reflecting on our adoption journey to Miss L, I feel like that is a perfect picture of what my faith looked like. Cringing, cautious faith.

Faith that was caught off-guard by a God who clearly answered our prayers to lead us to a third child, if that was His will for our family.

Once we committed to moving forward with Miss L’s adoption…in faith…I still found myself guarding my heart and doubting it would or could all work out. Humanly speaking, there were a lot of reasons to be cautious and to doubt because no US adoption agency works with her country. I would have to figure out how to do an independent international adoption, so I immersed myself in researching immigration laws and adoption requirements and learning the US definition of orphan. I spent months gathering documents from the other side of the world.

Each potential road block I encountered along the way, He leveled. Every question, He answered. Every dark path, He illuminated. Each time I learned of a new requirement or necessary document, He provided it.

When it became clear that hiring a lawyer who specializes in US orphan immigration law would be a wise idea, he provided a the lawyer who had experience with this country. (No small task seeing as only a handful of adoptions from this country have ever even taken place.)

When it came time to get our visas and book our travel, He worked out the details and put us in touch with people who went above and beyond to help us.

When we were told to expect it to take one full week in-country to get her passport, He provided it the same day we applied for it…within hours.

When it seemed as if we’d be stuck in her country for a few extra days waiting for an open departing flight, He provided just enough seats on the plane to get us out ahead of schedule.

When we were waiting to pick up the results of her US-required medical exam, He provided a group of US adoptive parents in the waiting room who gave us important information on dealing with the US Consul@te.

When we arrived 15 minutes after the office closed to apply for her visa at the US Consulate, He provided kind officers who were more than happy to allow us in anyways.

When we expected to have to wait at least a week for her US visa to be approved because hers was such a unique case, He provided it in one day.

When it appeared like we would miss our flight back to the US due to insanely long and slow security lines, He provided an officer who noticed my tears stress and allowed us to move ahead in line to make our flight.

In more ways than I can list, His fingerprints were all over her adoption and our trip. And yet my faith seemed so small. So filled with doubt and uncertainty. Will it work out? What if they won’t issue her visa? What if we run into snags? What if our trip is longer than expected? What if? What if? What if?

Small faith cringing with each new call to trust and watch Him work.

So when people see our family or hear our story and say, I could never do it, my first thought is: Yes, you could. If God calls you to it, you can do it. I am proof that He doesn’t call only those with no fears, no doubts, and no worries. He doesn’t limit his blessings to only those who have unwavering, bold faith.

He calls and equips and blesses even those with weak faith. His grace covers our doubts. His strength enables us to walk through our fears.

I don’t look at either of our adoption journeys as displays of how strong my faith was or is. I look at them as displays of how strong my God is. It was His power that was on display for all to see. His power at work through a weak and worried woman who had just enough faith to take the next step.

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses,

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Love Story

Dear Miss A,

I always knew you liked him. I did. I saw it when you smiled at him. I saw it when your eyes lit up when he entered the room and how your first giggle was for him. It has always been there. But, it was too hard for him to see.

From the beginning, you would go to him freely. No fussing. At all. It’s just that you always kept your eyes on me. You’d squawk when I left your sight. You’d squeal when I returned. You kept track of my every move, even while he held or entertained you. And, at first, he was fine with it because it was subtle and everything was new

On the flight home, your fondness for me grew to a definite preference. You only wanted to be by me, on me, with me. The first weeks home were a blur of survival for all of us, and I knew that having you close to me was key in helping you feel safe and secure. We kept your routine predictable, outings to a minimum, and put you in the wrap anytime we went out. It made you feel safe and happy and solidified your bond…with me.

Your preference for me was undeniable, and he began to feel left out. He wanted to bond with you and experience affection instead of rejection. Seeing you reach for me time and time again was hurtful and took its toll. I still saw the way you smiled at him and were excited to see him, but he was beginning to get frustrated. He understood, but it hurt.

However, being who he is, he never gave up. He continued to reach out for you, spend time with you, care for you, be silly with you, comfort you, hold you, bathe you, and feed you…while you reached for me. The smiles and giggles I saw you give him were often overshadowed by your whining for me. But, you are his daughter, and he knew it would come…eventually.

Then, as if someone flipped a switch, things began to change. The whining and reaching for me lessened, making the smiles and giggles you gave him more obvious. You began to run full tilt to the door when he came home from work. You squealed as he “chased” you, urging him to keep doing it. You smiled at him just to get his attention. He noticed and soaked it up.

Over the past month, I’ve had a front row seat to watching the love between you two blossom and grow. My heart swells as I watch you run full speed to greet him at the door. As you lean out of my arms and into his. As you bring him book after book to read to you and then walk backwards until you plop into his lap settling your head against his chest. As you giggle and play peek-a-boo with him in your highchair. As your whole body wiggles in celebration when he comes to pick you up from nursery.

You see, he’s waited a very long time for you to return his affections. He’d have waited indefinitely, but I’m so glad he didn’t have to. I’m so glad you two are forging your own love story through silly rituals and goofy games. I don’t even mind when you prefer him over me.

I always knew you liked him and that the love would come. I’m just so glad that he’s beginning to know now, too.

He’s waited a long time to be your Daddy.

Love,

Mommy

________________________________________

Stephanie

Stephanie has been married to Matthew for over 5 years. She

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This Much I Know To Be True

It’s one of Oprah’s catch-phrases. This much I know to be true. Following that phrase, she expounds on some epiphany or conclusion or lesson she has learned.

There are many things I know to be true. In most of those cases, it is because of personal experience or first-hand knowledge.

I know that the bottom of the Dead Sea is very difficult to walk on because of the large salt crystals littering the bottom. (personal experience)

I know that acting uninterested at a David Copperfield show seems to ensure you will be called up on stage to help with an illusion. (personal experience)

I know that the pain of giving yourself fertility injections is nothing compared to the pain of being childless. (personal experience)

But, there are other things I cannot be sure of. I can only imagine how it must feel or be or what I would or would not do, but I don’t know for certain.

I think it would be great to have an awesome singing voice and perform for the masses. But, I don’t really know what that would be like and never will.

I can imagine that losing a parent at a young age would be incredibly painful and difficult. But, having never experienced that I don’t really know how it feels.

I can say that I would never move far away from my family, but I have never had to make that decision and pray I never will.

That’s just it. We don’t REALLY know what it’s like to experience something without really experiencing it ourselves. I can imagine how I hope I would react, what I hope I would think, how I hope I would respond all I want. But, until I walk through it myself, I really have no idea.

I have never been a very scandalous person. No huge public life dramas have played out in my life…until this past summer. We did not complete the adoption of the child we traveled to bring home. Naively, I had no idea just how scandalous this was in the eyes of some in the adoption community. In reading what many other AP’s think about disruption, it seems as if the thinking is either you bring home the child you were referred no matter what, or you are a terrible, selfish person who wishes for that child to never find a family.

I can tell you, without a doubt, that that is not the case. At. All. This much I know to be true.

Our adoption journey was pretty bumpy. But, by far, the hardest things this momma still deals with are the misconceptions people in the adoption community have regarding those who disrupt, and the hurtful comments said about “those parents.”

The sadness and shock we felt when the serious undisclosed needs became apparent was hard, but we had lots of supportive people walking us through the confusion. Discovering that we were not the best family for the child we thought was ours was hard, but we had peace about the decision, knowing it was the best for that child and us. We were simply not equipped to handle that child’s needs and knew that there would be a family out there who could meet those needs and meet them well. Facing the reality of not coming home with a child, the child who we had attached to at some level through video and pictures, after almost 4 years of being in the process was hard. But, with the peace we had in our decision, we knew that if that’s what it came down to, it would be okay. Our family, our friends, our church lifted us up in prayer; listened to us as we processed through everything that was happening; and supported the difficult decision we had to make.

However, the comments about disruption I read upon returning home, and still stumble upon as I scan adoption boards, pierce my heart and rattle me for days. I sit stunned at the broad paintbrush often used to paint all parents who go through this as cold, heartless, uneducated, and unprepared, only thinking of themselves with no thought or caring for what happens to the child. It just is not that simple. It is not like that.

The comments seem to center around the same logic:

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Did They Ever Notice?

Miss A has been with us for about 4 months now. As time goes on, as I watch her playing and interacting, I find myself wondering, did they ever notice?

I mean, she spent 7.5 months in an orphanage being cared for by nannies. It was, as far as I can tell, a really good orphanage. We visited it and got a tour, and it was lovely–for an orphanage. It was clean and bright, and the directors and nannies were cheerful and welcoming and friendly. But, it was still an orphanage. She was still cared for by nannies. And that makes me wonder, did they ever notice?

Miss A likes to feel a blanket or burp cloth with her fingers as she drinks her bottle. Propped up in the crook of my leg so we can see each other face to face, her hands are in constant motion. Seeking out and then rubbing and feeling the piece of cloth. Did they ever notice this?

As her eyelids get droopier and droopier drinking her bottle, she will usually begin lifting the cloth to her face. Covering her eyes, then dropping it down, then bring it back up to her face. She will grab a corner and rub the side of her face as her eyelids close. Did they ever notice?

Should she finish the bottle before drifting off to sleep, she has been known to almost nibble on the fuzzy side of her blankie to fall asleep. Did they ever notice? And, if so, did they ever give her a soft cloth to feel as she drank her bottle?

We first noticed this in China. She would hold her shirt or my shirt as she drank her bottle. Then she would grab her bib or burpcloth. So, when we came home, I got out a blankie square with a silky side and a furry side. She loves it. Peeking in at her at night we will find her laying on it like a pillow. And, it sometimes makes me sad. Sad because I wonder what she did at night when she was (presumably) all alone in her bed with nothing to grasp or cuddle or snuggle.

In all likelihood, given what I know about orphanages, given that the nannies (caring though they be) are taking care of many children at a time, I know that they probably didn’t notice this quirk of Miss A. They didn’t have time to notice. They couldn’t notice.

Instead they had to focus on taking care of each child’s basic needs. Feeding, changing diapers, and sleeping. Straight forward caretaking. Judging from Miss A, they seem to have done a fantastic job of caring for her basic needs while in the orphanage. On Gotcha Day she was a well-fed, healthy, happy, clean, chubby cleft baby who had already been given her first surgery. Her basic needs were well met.

But, just getting your basic needs met isn’t what we were designed for. God created us to know Him and to be intimately known. And He sets the example for us–He knows His children intimately. He knows how many hairs we have on our head. He knows our deepest fears and struggles. He knows our gifts and talents. He knows what makes us laugh. He knows how we laugh. He knows our heart and soul and mind and spirit, for He created us. He notices it all.

There is so much more to be had than to just have your basic needs met. So, God places children in families with parents who, if they are intent on doing it, will know those children intimately. Through relationships and time and noticing we get to know one another intimately. Think of your closest friends, your spouses, your family. What makes those relationships so valuable is that each of those people knows you intimately. They can “read you like a book.” They know your quirks and your looks and your fears and your joys. And, isn’t that a comfort–to be known intimately?

This is what has brought me so much joy from being a mother. To spend every day with my daughters has given me the opportunity to know my girls intimately. Knowing that Miss E will probably need extra reassurance when she hears a loud car go roaring down our street. Knowing that Miss A likes to crawl around with a block in each hand. Noticing and knowing the little things, the looks, the cries, the giggles, the quirks. I love knowing–really knowing–my girls.

So, as I watch Miss A, as I study her expressions and movements and quirks, it makes me sad to realize that they probably couldn’t notice them. She had great basic care for the first 7.5 months of her life. And, for that, I am forever grateful. But, she didn’t have the care of a Mommy and Daddy. She didn’t have someone who took notice of how much she liked soft blankies and, in turn, made them available to her. She didn’t have someone who knew her intimately.

Now, she does.

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Stephanie

Stephanie has been married to Matthew for over 5 years. She

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