The Day

Last week we celebrated "Gabre Day". For those of you not familiar with the adoption world, there are lots of different terms to celebrate aspects of becoming a family through adoption. When a child enters your family born from your belly, their birthday marks that special day they entered your life. When your child enters your family born from your heart, it is very likely you may not have been there for their birth.

Gabre day is the day that we first met our sweet daughter in Ethiopia. The day we first looked into her eyes. First held her. First smelled her. First said those words we had desperately been longing for her heart to hear.  It is not the day she officially became a part of our family, which happened weeks later when we passed court. Or the day that she first lived with us, which happened months later when we took her for the first time out of the orphanage and to our first home together, a hotel in Ethiopia. Or even the day that our family of five was united together for the first time at the airport.

Gabre Day did not come with balloons. Or presents. Or songs. Gabre day came with pause and reflection. For me it is a day of joy and sadness. Sadness for all she has lost. Sadness because she spent months, both before this day and after this day lying in her crib. Sadness because there are children all over this world that lie in these cribs at this very moment. Waiting. Waiting for a family. Waiting to be loved.

But, oh the Joy. This girl is ours! This girl that brightens every room she enters. This girl that brings comments from strangers like, "I could just eat her. She is so sweet.". This girl that keeps us laughing with her growing language that includes "Suitcases" for her bathing suit and "Damn it" because she might overhear that a bit too much. This girl that now instead of spending most of the day in her crib, gets to spend the weekend at the lake...or at the beach...or at the pool....you get the idea, the girl LOVES the water!

Don't judge the hair. She had been boating.

July 10th marks a new day for our family. We will be hosting a 14 year old girl from an orphanage in the Ukraine for 6 weeks. Hosting was not something we were looking for, but here it is. And here is ALL we know about Inna. She is shy, calm and polite. She is in the 8th grade. She has a hearing loss and wears one hearing aid.  She likes to dance. Her favorite animals are horses, cats and dogs. She likes to eat meat and buckwheat porridge. She likes to watch soap operas and kid movies. She likes to do embroidery and work with bibs. Her favorite color is violet.

I know nothing about 14 year old girls. I know nothing about buckwheat porridge. I do not know Russian or Ukrainan. And she does not know English. I do not know embroidery. Sewing a button is an accomplishment. And bibs? I do know what they are, but have not the slightest notion of how one 'works with them'.

But I do know that research indicates that in the Ukraine, 10-15% of children who age out of an orphanage  commit suicide before age 18. 60% of the girls are lured into prostitution. 70% of the boys become hardened criminals.

So what is the future for Inna? I do not know that either. At times, that thought overwhelms me. But then I remind myself of The Day. Each day is different. But each day is fresh. Each Day that she is with us is A day we can show her she is loved. That she is treasured.  I love what Beth Guckenberger from Back2Back Ministries says about this,

 "Our family is like a big tree, and some people come here and rest for a season in it's shade and some for a meal and some for years. We are just going to love and live and share with whomever God brings to us."

Adoption, fostering, hosting may never be part of your life or the life of your family. But this Day is. Everyday is. And I wonder, who needs to rest in your shade?