I imagine every parent has that feeling of awe sometimes when they look at their child. How am I so honored and blessed to be this person’s parent?
I think that often when I look at our sons, especially knowing that our stories didn’t have to intertwine. If you look at how the stories began, you wouldn’t necessarily expect them to come together in this way—for me to be the mother of two children born on the other side of the world to other families.
But God writes the most interesting stories, finding beauty in brokenness, turning tears to joy, bringing people together in miraculous ways, and here we are.
Ten years ago today, my husband and I met our younger son in a government office in Guangdong Province. Even before we met him, we had been in love with this little boy, trusting that we would find our way together, ready to love him fully and forever. At 20 months old, he was confused and unsure of these two strangers who didn’t speak his language. As we held him for the first time, there were tears and smiles.
Time seemed to stand still during our first moments together, but those minutes and hours have quickly unfolded into weeks and months and years. On our first evening together, he called us Mama and Baba for the first time—a glorious and unexpected gift. He surprised us then—as he has continued to ever since.
That little snuggly boy who was clinging to a plastic bag of snacks has grown into a young man who lives life fully, approaches challenges with determination and grace, laughs and makes others laugh easily, and loves with a compassionate heart. He is an incredible son and brother and grandson and cousin and nephew and friend. When he starts sixth grade in just a few days, his mother might be nervous, but he will be ready.
Where does the time go?
The day we met that baby boy we couldn’t see into the future. We didn’t know what the years ahead would hold. But we knew we would navigate it together. We knew this was a journey we would undertake as a family. We didn’t know all that the years would contain, but we knew there would be love—and we knew God would be with us every step of the way.
Last week our son asked his father to buy a lottery ticket for us. It sat on our dining room hutch, and at dinner time we talked about how we would spend the winnings—if we won. It was the longest of long shots, but we had the most wonderful time imagining the house we would build with an indoor pool and a room for the finches, the trips we might take, and how we would spend our time.
When we didn’t win, my son said happily, “It’s OK. It was nice to have hope.”
Hope. Yes, it is nice—and important—to have hope. Lots of hope. Hope to carry into a building in China where you meet someone you already love and will love forever. Hope to carry into today with whatever we might encounter. And hope to carry into tomorrow where we know God will be with us, ready to walk with us through whatever joys and challenges we might experience.
I don’t know how I am so blessed to be the mother of this child whose story is so much a part of mine. But I am beyond grateful, in awe of how God’s hand brought our family together.
How great is our God and how extraordinary is His love.
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