Mama Blanc...

I have a new friend who is adopting from the same orphanage where Jordany is in Haiti. She and her husband are taking their two biological children to meet their 9 month old sister this coming weekend. My friend offered to take some things to Jordany for us, and we jumped at the chance.

Each of the kids made a Christmas card for Jordany expressing their love for their new brother. It was so tender for me to read the words that they wrote to the little brother they do not know...he is a face far away...connected to us but not tangible...almost unreal...ours nonetheless.

We also sent him a cute outfit with guitars on it... this is Nashville after all! The son of my dear friend gathered up matchbox cars to give to him, and we made him a simple flip book of photos of his family...each a memento wrapped in love.

I sat down to write Jordany a note to send with the gifts. As I began writing, I began crying (of course)...this little child of mine...what do I say to my 2 1/2 year old who doesn't know my name...to him I am "Mama Blanc." What do I say to my child who doesn't know my face; who doesn't call me mommy; who doesn't comprehend the love waiting for him across the miles?

My note was simple...he is 2 1/2 after all; he doesn't speak English, and I didn't need to say much. Writing him took my breath away. I'm writing to my baby! I don't know him. I don't know what it feels like to hold him. I don't know what his little voice sounds like. I don't know what to say because there is too much to say. I penned simple, tender assurances telling my baby how much I love him, how much we all love him...telling him that he has a mommy and daddy, 2 big brothers and 2 big sisters waiting for him. I told him that we would come soon...I pray we can.

I cannot wait to gather my baby boy into my arms, wrap him up, hug him, hold him...Will he let me? I pray every day that God will prepare his little heart for love...from me, from his daddy and from his brothers and sisters.

"Oh, Love that will not let me go. I rest my soul in Thee."

A New Donahue... called by Name

I've been working on a family blog for our adoption journey. Several of the posts about our adoption were on my personal blog. So, I transferred them over here.

A journey is a great way to describe the process of adoption. There are hills and valleys, fast rides and slow crawls, and we are only in the beginning.

Our home study is complete and we now begin finishing up documents so that we can get our fingerprints and then send our dossier to Haiti. It's a lot of work, but I have to continue to remind myself that our adoption road is not planned by me. There is comfort in knowing that the God of all Grace and Comfort has planned our journey step-by-step.

When things don't go my way or the way that I had thought they would go, it is a privilege to rest in the assurance that my missteps and mistakes are all in God's hands. He has already planned this journey, and He steers me. I need to allow Him to do just that.

As I reflect on the beginning of our adoption decision and this giant leap of faith, I can't help but be reminded of Isaiah 43:1: "I have called you by name. You are mine."

I want to put an exclamation point at the end of "you are mine"... I can hear the Father shouting from the heavens: "Laura Lyn. I have called YOU by name. YOU ARE MINE!" The same way He calls me by name, He has called each one of us, including our yet-to-be-named, new Donahue.

We have all been adopted by God our Heavenly Father. He ransomed His one and only Son, Jesus Christ, so that He could shout our names from the heavens and declare that we are His. WE ARE HIS!

In this season of Christmas, as we prepare for the celebration of the Christ child's birth, I'm reminded of Mary's obedience to the Lord's calling on her life. She was unaware of His plan, yet she agreed to trust and obey. In essence, she agreed to adopt Christ into her own womb and raise the son of God as her son. Joseph agreed to be Jesus' earthly Father and care for Him as his own.

Adoption is a part of everyone's story. Each of our journeys is different, but we are all called by name by the Lord of Hosts. He shouts from the heavens that you and I are His. We long to shout from the hills of Tennessee the name of our new child...our new Donahue. We wait with expectancy.