When I was a young girl, as many young girls do, I dreamed of my life as a mother. My four or five little ones would have blonde hair and green eyes like me. In my mind's eye, I saw myself toting two tiny ones in my arms while the others skipped and danced around my knees.
And then one day, God planted something in my young heart that would continue to grow, slow but sure. A hope and a dream that would stir up a new picture of what my future family might look like.
An article in our local paper spotlighted a family I knew very well. Our pastor and his wife had three beautiful children - a biological son and two daughters that they adopted from Korea. I read and read, soaking up every word, and at the end the mother mentioned that South Korea was open for adoptions at that time. I stared at the large front-page photo of the two sisters hugging and thought to myself, I hope Korea still allows adoptions when I am grown up and married. I want to adopt a baby from there.
I carefully folded that article up and tucked it away for keeps, carrying the new dream in my heart, holding it loosely across days and decades.
My husband and I said I do and were eager to start our family right away. As years passed and we stumbled along a path of infertility, God's plan for us became more and more clear. Today I am not a mommy to many blonde, green eyed kiddos. And I'm thankful for that. Because one darling, sweet little boy with fabulous black hair and the darkest, deepest eyes I've even looked into calls me Mama. He is ours and we are his and together our life spells out family and meant-to-be.
We don't know what the future holds for us. If we will remain a family of three or become four or more like we hope. If babes with blue eyes or brown eyes or green eyes will smile back at us. Time will tell and we are content as we wait to find out. We are beyond blessed and thankful for our son and if we know one thing, it's that God has a knack for making His plans pan out. His ways are perfect and oh so much better than ours. And we trust Him.
I still have that newspaper article.
It's folded up in a cardboard box along with a bunch of mixed tapes, red and blue ribbons, and purple binders covered with stickers. It's a sweet reminder, a little wink from God, and I smile because He knew all along.
Every time I sweep my boy's dark hair from his forehead, I am reminded of God's love. And His plan shines brightly in the brown, almond eyes of my little one.
You can read a bit more about our story and adoption journey here.