I met my oldest daughter, Rebekah, 4
years ago today. I remember the halfhearted cry she gave me when one
of the workers placed her on my lap while we sat in the orphanage
directors office in the outback of Russia back in 2009. Her hollow
little eyes told the tale, a little girl who's life up to that point
had been a steady stream of hurt and dysfunction that is not
appropriate for civilized conversation. But by God's grace, it is a
past that has since been buried and plowed under many times over and
the decaying remains now provide fertile soil for the garden of
blessings her life has become. December 16th, 2009, Oh my
soul, what a day.
We had to leave her behind that
December. We had to go home and wait for our court date. As we left, I picked
that little girl up and whispering in her ear: “I go to prepare a
place for you...” Because that's what Jesus once told me. Then
Allison and I watched her be led down a dark hallway where the
children stay. We weren't allowed down there, and that is probably
for the best...
Allison and I got home in time for Christmas that
year, but it was tough to celebrate. The house was still empty, and
there was a mountain left to climb in our journey come early spring,
and a rugged mountain it proved to be. But we climbed it, and she's
home... forever... What a gift.
Then there is Ruthie. Be still my
heart...
On a cold morning last March we drove
up to a hospital in Birmingham to meet our second addition. A little
brown baby girl that had just been born 2 days prior and was about to
be discharged from the hospital and needed a place to go.
There we found ourselves in the
neonatal ICU, with our new daughter and the woman who gave birth to
her. Many people have made a lot of presumptions about Ruthie's birth
mother and they are always wrong. She is nothing less than a hero to
me, and I'll never refer to her with anything less than my utmost
respect. I hugged her and told her I loved her and we thanked her for
minutes on end. We cried, she cried, all of the nurses cried, and
then we held hands and prayed... Then we drove back home that
afternoon a family of 4. I never will forget Rebekah's reaction when
we stepped off the elevator into the lobby with her new baby sister.
She beamed with pride and joy, deep down she knew what was at stake.
Getting Ruthie home wasn't quite the
ordeal it was for Rebekah, but it was every bit as miraculous. It has
been said that the most dangerous place for a black female is in the
womb, sadly the abortion industry has made that statistically true. But our Ruthie's birth mother
quietly and resolutely made a remarkable sacrifice and chose to give
life, a decision for which I am eternally grateful. The gift of
life... What a precious gift.
At almost 10 months old, Ruthie is now in to everything, and Rebekah is in Kindergarten and the finest big sister a girl could ask for. Both their stockings hang on the
mantle waiting for gifts. The house is filled with the warmth of family, the smell of
food, and lit with the glow of Christmas lights. And because of my
diligent and loving wife, it has become the home every child
deserves.
And soon presents will be opened,
cousins and grandparents will be visited and Rebekah and Ruthie will
continue to be part of something very special, a family. I wanted it
like this, after all, I told Rebekah I would prepare a place for
her... and we did... Then there was room for Ruthie... and there is
plenty of room for more.
This year, like many others, my gift
won't be unwrapped, they'll be the ones doing the unwrapping. Just
fix me a cup of coffee and give me a good seat by the fire, because
everything I ever wanted for Christmas I've already got. The gift of
life.
