Philly Area mom, Life forever changed by adoption
Dare to watch. Dare to get a glimpse of people on the other side of the world whose stories we’ve only just gotten glimpses of ourselves, children and students and adults who hold our hearts.
Be ready.
You’re going to want to go and enter in.
And, we’d love to have you.
I met her in March, a shy little girl with beautiful braids someone painstakingly created each morning.
Find her a family. She’s very clever.
She sang me a song, recited a poem, and did math problems aloud at her ayi’s command. Her presentation ended in a stream of tears, her sweet spirit anxious at having to perform and prove her cleverness for a foreigner. I took noted and promised I’d try. But, by the end of the week, a scurry and buzz among the working staff at my mention of her name revealed that they had just learned that day she had a family afterall.
Four months later, I got a message in my inbox:
When you were serving at the orphanage, did you happen to meet this little girl?
Instead of me finding a family for HY, her family had found me. We spoke on the phone, and I talked until my throat was sore, sharing all I could about their sweet little sparrow and the place that was her home. They thanked me over and over and said I was blessing them. I went to bed happy that night feeling like all was well with the world.
When I returned a few months later, last month, I brought something with me, a special delivery made out of photos and paper that I carried like it was precious treasure. This time, instead of HY giving me a presentation, I had a presentation of my own for her.
On Tuesday afternoon, I pulled that treasure out of my bag and with trembling hands and voice handed it to my dear friend.
Mama. Baba. Jie Jie. Jie Jie. Ge Ge. Di Di.
Her eyes got big as she pulled the photos close. Her first reaction of quiet turned into words, and she echoed me.
Mama. Baba. Jie Jie. Jie Jie. Ge Ge. Di Di.
and again.
Mama. Baba. Jie Jie. Jie Jie. Ge Ge. Di Di.
She smile a smile like none I had ever seen before and looked up at her ayi and said:
I miss my Mama.
She owned the moment and breathed in the joy herself at the realization that her family was coming for her.
Lucy Joy. Your name is Lucy.
The same buzz and scurrying I had seen in March ensued and I could her her name repeated over and over as if in an angelic chorus. Lucy. Lucy. Lucy.
And, then she said it herself.
Lucy.
Her spirit sighed as her very breath formed the word of her name—Lucy.
It was now her turn to scurry and flutter around, showing giggling staff and admiring friends her new family and telling them her name—Lucy! Lucy! Lucy!
They shared her celebration with thumbs up and pats on the back. Children still waiting jumped up and down for her. Children who would never have that moment themselves hugged her and told her how beautiful her mother was.
It was a highlight of my last trip, an experience I will never forget, one I have told my children about and one I’ll tell my children’s children about. It was the day I got to stand in the gap in the sacred place of transition for a little girl who was moving from an orphan with little hope of a future to a beloved daughter. It was the day God showed me a glimpse of what selfless love looks like as orphans celebrated their friend’s story with genuine joy that she was no longer alone even they will remain.
Lucy Joy.
You’re almost home, precious girl. They’re coming for you.
note:
story and photos all shared with permission
from Lucy’s mama.
Orphan Sunday.
It’s not about a movement. Movements eventually fade away with time.
It’s not about a cause. Causes are embraced by a few and can often distract us.
It’s not about providing content for pastors who preach every Sunday. There are nearly 775,000 words fully able to provide content for a lifetime of 52 weeks.
It’s not about checking a box. One designated Sunday service of 52 Sunday services even if every word and moment of those 2 hours bled a particular topic does not allow anyone to say their job is done.
It’s not about telling people more needs to be done and urging the Church to adopt. It’s not even about adoption.
If it’s not about a movement, a cause, content, checking a box, or adoption, what is it about?
It’s about the heart of God. It’s about who we are as His children.
A devoted and faithful child cares about that which his or her father cares. As those who follow Christ, we are called to mirror His heart. And, His heart is for the one without, every single one without.
On Orphan Sunday, the Church reminds those within its 4 walls of the ones without its 4 walls who are dear to our Father’s heart—the 153,000,000 children around the world who are orphans—and need to be dear to our hearts not just during a pretty service, singing songs that stir our hearts, watching videos that leave us in tears, or hearing His Word preached and responding with Amens. Those things are not without purpose; they are tools He uses to grow our hearts to look more like His own. It just can’t end today because tomorrow is Orphan Monday and the next day is Orphan Tuesday then comes Orphan Wednesday, Orphan Thursday, and Orphan Friday…
His call. Our call. It isn’t about today; it’s about everyday.
Learn to do good. It doesn’t come naturally and is not easy.
Seek justice. It can be hard to find in a broken world.
Help the oppressed. Be comfort.
Defend the orphan, every orphan. They are His and, therefore, our little brothers and sisters.
It all started with what if.
We had just returned from the first team trip to the orphanage last spring. Dreaming of the next trip seemed to help us emotionally as we reentered life at home. Knowing that our friends Ben Leaman, who is an incredible photographer and creative artist, and his wife Abbey would be on the next trip 6 months later, I sent them a text that simply started with what if.
What if you led a photography workshop with the older kids there? You could weave truth into the lessons, build them up as creative beings who can make an impact on the world. What do you think?
It was surreal months later to be witnessing this—Day 1 of the first ever orphan photography workshop in Shaanxi.
At 4pm everyday, there were 12 children between the ages of 8 and 12, ones we had not been invited to engage with before now, eagerly waiting for the Americans and the red cameras we had in hand for them in the lobby of the orphanage. Ben started each session with a short lesson, masterfully weaving in a deeper lesson into each one, which was followed by time for the children to take pictures, as many as they wanted, focusing on the topic of the day.
Day 1 {beauty} – what is beauty? there is beauty all around us, even in the seemingly mundane and ordinary.
Day 2 {shadows} – what makes a shadow? shadows are reminders that things—and you—make an impact on the world.
Day 3 {color} – what colors do you like? colors make us feel. it’s good to feel things. we are made to feel.
Day 4 {portraits} – who do you find beautiful? all people are beautiful, people are God’s masterpiece.
Every evening, after the rest of the team had collapsed into their beds, Ben and Abbey burned the midnight oil, sorting through literally thousands of images on memory cards and editing pictures that the children had taken that day.
The results were nothing sort of miraculous. Allow me to simply give you a sneak peek at a few of the pieces that took our breath away.
I confess that I didn’t expect this. I wanted to build them up as creators; I wanted to speak into their hearts that they were beautiful and that the world around them could be seen as beautiful. I confess that I didn’t expect their creations to actually be stunningly beautiful. And, they are. They are absolutely amazing. What they captured through their camera lenses of the ordinary around them is nothing short of extraordinary.
Day 5 {celebration} – Come and see and celebrate what you have created. We celebrate you.
I had a hard time keeping my camera steady through my tears during our last photography workshop. We showed the children and the staff who gathered behind them the pictures the children had taken. We saw all of their eyes open wide as we showed them how there are elements of art and beauty that are universal despite how we don’t speak the same language and live on opposite sides of the world. We printed at least one picture for each child to keep as well as their portrait that Ben had taken of them, capturing personalities and inherent beauty in each one. And, then Ben and Abbey called out each child by name, invited them to the front of the crowd, and awarded them a certificate of completion, congratulating them as beauty makers and beauty holders.
One of the directors came to me after the ceremony and bowed her head to me as she spoke. Our translator told me she thanked me for the hard work and for the idea to do this class for the first time. I bowed to her and told her it was a dream come true.
There’ve been more what ifs over the last week or so. What if we hosted a photography exhibit featuring their art? What if we took it beyond our local town to show people the value of their vision and allow them to see these children—orphans with special needs—as beautiful beauty makers? What if we were able to fund the work, keep the work going, through an exhibit like this?
Anyone want to sponsor something like that?