I just had the great pleasure of putting my three-year old grandson down for a nap and rubbing his back while he breathed softly against my chest. Manny was born in Ethiopia and would now be struggling to survive. Instead, he’s in my arms under warm covers with a full tummy and a contented look on his face.
Manny and his sister Betti are in my life because of the Christ-like compassion of my daughter Julie. From her teens Julie knew she wanted to adopt children from abroad. It was a nonnegotiable when Alan asked her to marry him and a seed that quickly grew in his own father-heart. They did their homework, raised funds, prayed and persevered.
On the other side of the world, a young Christian widow dying of AIDS made the gut-wrenching choice to place her daughter and son with an adoption agency. In his perfect timing, the Lord of Logistics brought the two families together and forever united us, changing everyone involved forever. Especially Papa.
Betti and Manny have grown so much in the months since they’ve been here, blossoming in body and soul and filling our homes with strange noises and infectious laughter. They are flowers of grace destined to produce eternal fruit.
It swells my heart near to bursting to have his little heart beating a few inches from mine.