God Sets the Lonely in Families

 

I wanted to post a little something to commemorate yet another of our family’s special days: May 28, 2012, the day we met and cuddled our sweet daughter for the first time.  For a while now I’ve been counting the days until I could re-post this sweet picture of the happiest day of my life.  I planned to write just a paragraph or two because, really, what more can I say about her than I’ve already said?

Then I came across this Scripture passage while reading an article in the quarterly newsletter we receive from our adoption agency: “A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling. God sets the lonely in families.” (Psalm 68:5-6a)  And I knew then that I would be posting far more than a few paragraphs and a picture. 

The article was written, as you might expect, by a family that adopted two children from an orphanage overseas, and then another two from foster care within their home state.  The article was about orphans.  I usually enjoy these articles because they are heartwarming stories and they get the wheels turning in my head when I think about our next adoption.  But, like most other adoption stories, I can’t fully relate in the case of Elizabeth’s adoption. 

My little one was the farthest thing from “fatherless” or “lonely” when she came to be mine.  She had been loved and cared for and doted upon since the day after she was born by two people who had, at one point, fully intended to put their comfortable lives on hold and adopt an infant in their late fifties.  A month later when her medical condition was diagnosed, they were forced to make a heart-wrenching decision.  After evaluating the lack of specialty medical services available within a three-hour radius of their home, Gene and Dede concluded that this little girl they had fallen in love with would need to call somebody else “Mom” and “Dad.” Somebody who lived closer to the care would need.

 

Five hours north, Elizabeth’s birth-grandma (whom I now consider a great friend and love dearly) faced an impossible task of her own.  Aside from guiding her teenage daughter through the emotional aftermath of having placed a baby for adoption, she continued to fight from a distance for a little girl that she, too, loved dearly.  She sifted through dozens of adoption profiles from multiple agencies, sending a few strong candidates down south to Gene and Dede to make the final decision.  Between the three of them, it took SIX MONTHS to select a family.  Yes, this little girl was loved DEEPLY, and so many people wanted only the best for her.

Tim and I hear a lot of “your daughter is so lucky to have you” and “I have so much respect for you two for doing what you’re doing with her.”  And while we appreciate the thought, usually those kind of comments leave us scratching our heads.  Just what is it about us that makes HER lucky to have US? Having spent the first seven months of her life in such a loving home, it’s not like we “rescued” her from anything.  She had everything she could need or want and then some.  And what is it that we’re “doing with her” that any other parent wouldn’t do for their own child? Yes, we made the conscious, prayerful decision to open our home to a child with special needs.  But lots and lots of biological parents do that every single day in spite of doctors who suggest, even ENCOURAGE them to terminate a pregnancy rather than “burden” their child with a disability for the rest of his/her life.

Sometimes I feel a bit out-of-the-loop when it comes to bonding with other adoptive parents, because my daughter came to me from the best and happiest of homes.  She did not come from an orphanage, she was never in a “life or death” situation, and she had dozens of people loving and fighting and praying for her before I even knew she existed.  I don’t feel like the “hero” that some people want to make me into.  In the past, I have overlooked David’s words in the Psalms – God sets the lonely in families. “Those words are for the other parents, not me,” I would think. “She wasn’t lonely.”

But this day, the words spoke to me differently.  The word “lonely” jumped out at me.  I thought about my life before May 28, 2012.  I WAS LONELY.  Maybe it’s not only her.  Maybe it’s for ME!  I grabbed the first Bible I could find and read the Psalm of praise.  Verse 9: “You gave abundant showers, O God; you refreshed your weary inheritance.” OH, how he has refreshed my once-weary spirit over the past year with the abundant gift of this girl.  Verse 19: “Praise be to the Lord, to God our Savior, who daily bears our burdens.” WOW. How many times, over and over again, did He hear my prayer and feel my faith wavering.  Yet He used the journey not to break me down, but to strengthen me for the journey to come, as a mother to the little one He planned to bless me with before eternity.  Verse 35: “You are awesome, O God, in your sanctuary; the God of Israel gives power and strength to his people.  Praise be to God!”

I dove into the cross-references in the footnotes.  I read Exodus 1, about the amazing, brave midwives who defied the Pharaoh’s orders and let the Hebrew baby boys live.  Through their courage and obedience to God’s will, the Israelites prospered, and God rewarded these women with beautiful families of their own, as well.

I turned to the book of Ruth, notably chapter 4, the “happy ending” when Ruth and her new husband give Naomi a “son” to carry on the line of the Savior.  Though not her biological grandson, a son of her son, she “took the child, laid him in her lap and cared for him.” (v. 16) She loved him dearly and he healed a piece of her lonely heart.

And I knew my tears would come quickly, as they always do, when the footnotes turned me to Hannah’s prayer in 1 Samuel chapter 2.  Hannah has such a unique story that very few mothers can relate to in full.  She prayed and prayed for years as she longed for a child, and many of us know that feeling well.  BUT how many of us then could have the strength to say, “I prayed for this child, and the Lord has granted me what I asked of him.  So now I give him to the Lord.  For his whole life he will be given over to the Lord.” (1 Samuel 1:27-28) At that point, her story begins to more strongly parallel that of birthmothers, who love their children so dearly from a distance as they are raised by others.

SO MANY LONELY PEOPLE that God has made into families.  Not only the orphaned babies… the lonely mothers and fathers, as well.  The lonely grandparents-to-be that long to see their children happy and fulfilled as parents.  And to the brave and courageous who stand up for what He says about LIFE… He gives the most beautiful gifts.  CHILDREN are a BLESSING from the Lord.

No, Elizabeth was never a “lonely” baby.  But there are a lot of other people in Elizabeth’s personal story who were lonely or disheartened in some way.  I am just one of them.  And God took us, His lonely children, and He set us into a family.  Our own crazy, beautiful mess of people I have called “family” all my life, together with people I have only called “family” for a year, bonded forever by our love for this precious girl.  Someday down the road she may feel a little lonely herself, and her heart might hurt a little when she begins to understand her story.  But it is my prayer that we are still a family then, and we can come together and fill her heart with love and joy, in the same way that God did for us through her.

A year ago today, God “set the lonely,” myself and my husband, into a family with a precious miracle we would soon begin to call “Libby.” In the year since, I have heard more times than I can count how blessed SHE is to have me.  But when I look at the picture and I recall the emotions of that day, all I can see and feel is how abundantly blessed we are to have HER.  We're no heroes.  We need her just as much as she needs us - maybe more.  And we are so thankful that the Lord saw fit to "set us in a family."