I was born to an amazing, loving set of parents, Bob (AKA Papa Bob) and Marie (AKA GrandMimi). I have always known what it is to be part of a family, where there is an endless supply of hugs and acceptance no matter the circumstance. They encouraged, guided, and served as my greatest fans. George could say the same for himself of George (AKA BooBoo) and Helen (AKA Grammy). This blessing we took for granted. Because of my extended family, I later learned that some children take a different route to find the family meant for them. When I was ten, my Aunt Jean and Uncle Gene welcomed a new daughter into their family, my cousin Jenny. My cousins Scot, Kim and Chip all became part of my family through domestic adoption. Weeks prior to my wedding, my cousin Theresa and her family made a journey to China to pick up the daughter born to be a La Du, my cousin Tori. A few years later, Theresa's sister Susan and her family traveled to Guatemala before the country was closed to adoption and met Micah, the boy born to be their son. None of these necessarily made me think about adoption for my own family, but all made adoption a natural part of my extended family. I often joked that I would love to one day have the family God designed as depicted in the song, "Red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in His sight, Jesus loves the little children of the world."
Then came Emily. I was leading Bible study for women with "Babes-in-Arms" when Emily was introduced with her infant son. I was thinking she looked way too good to have just had a baby when she shared that her son was adopted. God knew all along that her son, whose middle name was "Matthew" meaning "Gift from God," would be delivered to sweet Emily and her hubby through another young woman's womb. He was born to be their son.
I learned from my friend Mary that all three of her wonderful grown children had been adopted. She shared a specific story about her son's birth mother coming to visit and the sense that God's hand was in it all. Another friend, Joan, from my Mom's group at church shared with me that they were in the process of domestic adoption. As I pondered the idea of adoption aloud, I was encouraged by my friend Aimie to read Forever Lily, a story in which a woman traveled to China as an observer of the adoption process only to become an adoptive parent herself...twice.
Still, I simply remained intrigued by the beauty of adoption. George and I were blessed to have been given two beautiful, rambunctious sons. Perhaps we would have more. Perhaps not. Why would adoption be a consideration for a family like ours? Pregnancy, after all, had been fun for me. I love how strangers give you that big smile when they determine your big belly is actually a tiny human growing on the inside.
Fast forward to my quaint neighborhood in Nashville, Tennessee. One of the first neighbors to greet me was Becky, who was hosting a garage sale to raise money, so she and her husband could adopt a little cutie from China within the next year. Like my cousin Theresa had years before, Becky spoke of her "pull" toward China to pick up the baby girl waiting for her. I quickly became friends with Kristen at the neighborhood pool, who had adopted a beautiful little baby girl within the past couple years. Watching the family interact, I just couldn't imagine their baby Grace not being part of it. I met Jake, a cheerful, athletic young man across the street, whose dad Kyle shared the story of Jake's adoption experience. Then there was Virginia, whose family had welcomed a precious little dude from Russia recently. When August rolled around, I was assigned to be in Tracy's group at Bible study. Tracy and her husband had adopted five children from Ethiopia. After fielding a lot of my questions, she shared the book Adopted for Life with me. I couldn't help but fly through it. Russell Moore (fellow Mississippian, I might add) painted an amazing picture of adoption as he discussed our adoption into the family of Jesus Christ. He and his wife had adopted two little guys from Russia as well as having three biological sons. Although now may not be the right time for us, I asked Tracy to pray about our openness to adoption, whether it be domestic or international.
When September threw us into soccer season, we were reunited with our old friends Brad and Penny on the sidelines. Penny shared that they had completed the process to become foster parents. I was again reminded that there are little people out there who were longing for family to love on them. Then I started to notice the ache in my own heart more intensely for the little person who was made to be part of our own family.
Then there was Sue Talia, the woman who sat next to me on an airplane and shared her family's story of being a foster family. She spoke of the joy and the torment, but I knew that God had placed her there to continue to grow the whisper I was hearing about what He was calling our family to do.
I was still driving others crazy talking about Adopted for Life when another friend, Belle, shared not only that she and her family were in the process of adopting from Uganda but that I had to read Kisses from Katie by Katie Davis, a girl from Nashville who had moved to Uganda to care for orphans. I was humbled by her willingness to submit to such a level of servanthood because of the call of Christ. She was called, and she said, "Here I am, Lord." Reading her book gave me a new perspective on my ability to give more of myself. Was I holding back simply because of my fear of not being able to juggle it all in the perfect manner I preferred to do it? It wasn't about "saving a child," but rather about answering God's call to simply go pick up the little one He knew from the beginning of time was supposed to be part of and help to shape the Hampton family from here forward.
Then while passing the "Orphans and Widows" table at Covenant Presbyterian Church, I decided to check out The Strength of Mercy by Jan Beazley. The book continued the tug on my heart to seek out an opportunity to love on another little person who may otherwise grow up in an orphanage, never having known the love of a family, the hugs of a mom and dad and two big brothers. I also grabbed a three-page summary of adoption agencies and their contact information...and I prayed for God's discernment.
While I prayed that our hearts would be open to whatever God's will was for us, God was at work. I was in Nashville feeling as though God was shouting about adoption to me. I would take the kids to gymnastics, and I would see a banner for "Show Hope," the foundation started by the Chapman family to help orphans and aid in adoption expenses. I would turn on the radio and hear an advertisement for Compassion International. I would have a conversation, and it would always seem to turn to the topic of adoption. I would walk past the front desk at the YMCA, and an ad for "Both Hands," a group that helps widows and orphans, would pop up.
Meanwhile, George was sitting in California sharing a beer with our friend Jake. Jake and George had become friends through church, where Jake was a pastor. I had gotten to know his wife Joan through our Moms' group. Jake shared with George that they were waiting on a match for a domestic adoption that would come any day. George knew he was feeling the tug himself.
When he came home to Nashville, we committed to being prayerful and exploring the idea of adoption for our own family. Every night after putting Elliot and Gavin to bed, we found ourselves reading everything we could on the internet, requesting information from various agencies, looking at pictures and video of orphanages, and envisioning aloud how a new little person would become part of our crazy family.
We began to ask a few others to pray for us, no longer feeling as though we needed to be completely quiet about the heavy burden on our hearts. It wasn't long before we knew international adoption was the plan for growing our family. During an informational session with an agency, we learned of Moldova for the first time. Although it was closed, the agency said it would open sometime within the next year. While I chose to focus on Bulgaria (it was already open), George was convinced that "God will open Moldova for us!" He had read a lot Moldova and was being pulled like a magnet. I was not so eager to sign on for a country still closed. When I called the agency and explained that we would put Bulgaria as our first choice and Moldova as our second in case it opened, she said, "If you know you want Moldova, put it first because it opened this week!" I was in tears as I told George. He simply responded, "Told ya God would open it!"
"Trust in the Lord with ALL your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all ways, acknowledge Him, and He will make your path straight."
Proverbs 3:5
Proverbs 3:5
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