Meet Jesύs!
We first met Jesύs March 2014, two years ago now. Joe and I
first met him in the toddler house when we came to volunteer for one week. I
remember first seeing him rolling a ball across the floor. Jesύs has a bold,
beautiful smile. He has eyes that sparkle. He has hands that clasp tightly and
a laugh that is wonderful. Jesύs also has some significant physical and
cognitive special needs. Currently he is about 7 years old based on dental
reports, but has similar skills of a 3 year old. At the time we met him,
nothing was known about him medically except that he was “special”. And he is! He is wonderful! As I watched Jesύs
and played with him, I remember feeling not one ounce of pity for him, but
instead was just delighted by him. I
was so proud with all he was able to
do by himself. I thought his 8 words sounded fabulous. I thought all his physical features looked beautiful.
This struck me as a
strange reaction because there were many smiley, smart cuties that week in the
toddler house. As we were preparing to leave at the end of the week, Joe and I
took a long walk around the campus, and were reflecting on our time and chatted
about Jesύs. Suddenly, the thought came into my mind “What if we were to adopt him? What if I was to be his mom?”
Then right after that my thought was. “No. No way. We could never be so lucky. How could I ask God for so
much?”
Looking back
I realize that that moment revealed my true heart. And then for months this
idea bounced in our heads and spun in our hearts. Joe and I knew that God had
given us a different love for Jesus. So for nine months between our first trip
to Emmanuel in March 2014 and when we returned with our family in December, we
prayed for Jesύs . We signed up to be his sponsor family. We talked about him,
and slowly the idea of adoption became a more discussed one. Jesύs has many
medical needs and will most likely need lifelong care and support from family.
We talked, thought and prayed how this would affect our whole family. We knew we
had (and still have!) a lot to learn.
Our children. Joey, Guy and Elena started praying for this boy that they
had never met, and we all prayed together that God would guide us.
We have been
working with an agency in the US for a full year now, as well as a lawyer in
Honduras. Part of the serious process of adoption is piecing together the
child’s story. We just had rumors about
Jesus’ history from other volunteers or staff. Rumors that he had been in
institutions since birth, rumors of his medical needs. The only actual piece of
paper we had at first was a document that the office held in his file. It was a
list of disabled children who had arrived on a bus 4 years ago from another
government orphanage that had burned down. No middle name. No last name. No
date of birth. Only a first name in a list of 20 others: Jesύs.
The news swirls around us and yet we are unsure if his mind
understands. We can tell that he knows we are different. Simply from our time
investment so far with us, and by our names. He is happy to spend time with us
and has developed a true friendship with Joey, Elena and Guy. But does he
really understand? This sweet boy does not yet speak sentences. And even if he
could tell us his thoughts the idea of parents and a family is so foreign. It
is strange responsibility to plan a future that he may not be able to conceive
of. We find ourselves falling in love with this child and our new family.
Nothing has quite prepared us for this. Our quiet prayers.
Our fervent prayer times. Our social worker, the psychiatrist, the medical
reviews, the photos, the paperwork, the hours upon hours of investment. The
almost two years of thought and prayers. Nothing can prepare us enough for our
family to be growing in this way. We hold our children’s hands and we tell them
that we believe that all life is valuable. Joey’s life. Guy’s life. Elena’s
life. Jesύs’ life. We try to be careful
and we are honest with our four children. This
will be hard. This will be beautiful.
Mostly though, we watch the four kids play in the grass, eat
food, and help each other along the way and our hearts swell and we feel as
though we have won the lottery. We watch Jesύs try to run and we watch him try to form
words. I see him persistently try to kick a ball, and patiently sit next to a
friend who cries. He is the most gentle child. I see his hands fold around my
hands and how he bends his head to listen. When he is not laughing he is mostly
quiet.
Jesύs, we love you and
want to provide and protect and care for you. We want to grow with you and
witness your life. This is our promise to him as his parents. He smiles the sweetest smile and promises nothing back.
Joe and I do not need to watch forever. We see Jesύs. We
see the most beautiful handiwork. We feel it in our hearts: there is treasure
in this field.
Sometimes I hold Jesύs’ hand and am overwhelmed with thanks for this opportunity to love this child. God gives the most beautiful gifts, yes?