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There are so many waiting...




I saw this on my friends blog and it just grabbed me and had me sobbing. There are so many, many children like this waiting. I can't bring them all home but together, you and I, we can make a HUGE difference in the lives of some, if not all. My life's verse has been

Isaiah 6:8
"Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying,
"Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?"
And I said, "Here I am Lord. Send me!"
I believe God is no respector of persons and that He has taken us on these adoption journeys because we have been open to His leading. We are not saints by any means just people, like you. We were open to whatever child God had chosen for us no matter, color, race or disability. Is this an easy path? Absolutely not! There are many days I question God and doubt my abilities. But God is always faithful. Always. Please read this poem with an open heart and then pray and ask God if there is a child waiting for you.
I understand that you couldn't make room -
that there wasn't a place,
I was not of your womb.
That my age was all wrong,
and my history belonged,
to a place and a people you know
have all gone.
I see in your eyes that my life
was a chore,
that my needs were too big,
my emotions to raw.
That you were afraid
I might never leave home,
or I might find anger
and by failure be known.
That my heart was too broken
my mind was too slow,
That the drugs in my system
defined me, you know.
And maybe, just maybe,
I wouldn't love you -
for my mind was too battered
too deep were the wounds.
But I wish you had tried,
I wish you had found room,
For this one tiny boy who
so achingly stood
and looked in the windows and watched
as you prayed,
and asked the Lord Jesus
to move you each day.
To bring out the family
that He had prepared
but none came forward
as I stood lonely there.
I understand - that man would say
my childhood has slipped away.
I have a father, this is true,
I know the same strong God as you.
But I wish that I had, had a mom,
a brother, a sister, a dog, some lawn.
That you had tried to reach me there
not left me to my own despair.
To people who were paid to feed,
and paid to wash and paid to read.
To those who didn't stay too long
and those who chose to teach me wrong.
I wish,
I wish that you had found a way
to wedge me in and let me stay.

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