Introducing Lily
I looked for her while we were in Ethiopia, almost two years ago.
I got on the plane to pick up my two, with a secret prayer that He might also lead me to her.
Her existence haunted me.
She takes many different shapes and forms, but the undercurrent is all the same. The ten year-old eyes, deep with story, whose seniority makes her a leader at the orphanage. She holds the babies, minutes before their forever-mothers scoop them up, and gives tours to the family members curious about their child’s temporary home. Always the miracle’s witness, never the recipient.
Sometimes she is seven and beautiful in heart, but not to the beholder’s eye. Easily passed over. Other times she is thirteen, long graduated from her opportunity for rescue.
We visited a children’s home full of ones like these and sat in a room like celebrities amidst dozens of fatherless. To them, we were the elite; we had what they wanted, each girl’s eyes hungry to have someone in the role I’d only just stepped into days before. They sang their practiced worship songs and, each one, stood and shared their name and what they wanted to be when they grew up. Giggles of innocence erupted at one another’s minute-long presentations and I wept behind the eyes that made sure to connect with every single face, wondering what mother would steward their dreams with them.
I asked Lord, is she here?
I studied them, one-by-one, desperate to hear Him say yes, pursue her. I was not naive about the two others waiting back at the guest home who, days before, had just become Hagerty’s. I just knew in that moment that if He told me to stretch my tent pegs, He’d equip me.
But I heard not yet. And I left this beautiful haven, in the middle of tin corrugated huts, which was feeding these girls’ spirits and their bone-thin bodies, with a desire for more for them.
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Everyone has slivers of God’s heart He’s parceled to them. His heart so big, one single human frame couldn’t possibly carry into fruition all of it. I admire, from up close and from a distance, the slivers of friends. Their callings, so other and beautiful to me. And sometimes I envy. But His impartation is like wildflower seeds scattered, waiting for spring’s rain to call forth the diverse union that sends glory back to Him.
One of my slivers is to be her mommy. The older child, the one without an exit strategy. Her.
Like any God-parceled dream, it’s the supple ground that’s witnessed the squatters’ fight between my unfettered fears and my most intimate hopes.
I want to hold the broken parts of her that, by most standards, are at risk for never being healed and sing songs of deliverance over them. I want to pick up lanky limbs, long past the days when they could have been swaddled, and wrap myself around them. I want to speak beauty to what has grown hollow.
I want to prophesy to the dry bones and tell them they will live.
And up until just about 6 weeks ago, I continued to hear not yet. Both from the Lord and from the handsome ally He’s appointed me.
We got the broadest possible “pre-approval” for our adoption — 3 children up to age 13, with any range of needs — knowing that the Lord could easily send us down a path we hadn’t expected. But we certainly didn’t plan for Him to do that.
Sure, I hoped. I hadn’t forgotten her. Every few months I’ve resurrected the prayer to be the mommy of her new future, the steward of her dreams. But it seemed that the response, like that of many things in my life, was still wait.
But God, in a way that only He can do, led us down a path, through an alley and back out the other side as we pursued our second referral. And in the midst of this story (about which I will share more in detail, later), she surfaced.
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The picture of the eight year-old in my inbox didn’t particularly elicit the feeling that so many adoptive mothers expect to receive at first glance (but rarely do) — but her story’s scent drew me to attention. Sweet child, found alone in the world, who called an orphanage her home. She was a face among many, raised by committee. Though surely loved by her caretakers along the way, she had no memories of a father or mother.
Is this her? I asked, expecting the answer to be no. My waiting heart verged on disbelief that there was something on the other side of this wait.
We laid face to the floor and crawled through days of prayer asking Him if she was to be a Hagerty.
And when He finally answered, dropping the yes into Nate’s spirit, my heart-full-of-unbelief felt shock. All these years of dreaming weren’t my childish mind-wanderings but preparation, it seemed.
So we’ve named her Lily. Innocence. Purity. Beauty. All those things threatened in her desert years of youth, are the ones He will re-birth.
And we’re already watching, from a distance, her dry bones gain flesh as she prepares to be a daughter.
Between last September and now, our family map has taken a different course than what we initially expected. Two toddlers, under the age of four, instead are five and eight year-old soon-to-be sisters whose stories will intersect on one day in the near future when they both become Hagerty’s.
And we couldn’t be more excited.
God is so good.
Oh, Sara! I am just crying! My youngest brother, Judah, was 7 when he came home with us. He has just turned 15. I definitely share your heart for the older ones, too. Oh, I just love it. Thanks so much for sharing your stories and life with us all! xo
Shannon, I had no idea. That’s amazing –!
Sara! Hope and Lily, beautiful, sweet, hopeful names. So excited for you!
congratulations on your two little girls! looking forward to seeing them be grafted into your family only the way He can. i really needed to hear this, “not yet”, as my spirit is bruised and crushed finding out that the 2 we were praying over are not adoptable. 9 years of praying and searching for her, even her face being the same, and the answer is still “not yet”. thank you for pointing me to Jesus, when at this time it is easy to be consumed by self and be discouraged. blessings to your family
Oh Keely, I know your pain. The only thing I can say in response is what comes out of the “not yet” is truly in competition for the promise at the end of the “not yet.” Easier for me to say on this end, I know, but both are …stunning.
What great news, Sara! So happy for you and Nate. Praying that it might not be much longer when we can finally meet, but until then know that I join Trina in our prayers for you and your family. Thankful for your words in this post and for the joy that is Lily.
Hemmed In…
John Rogers
Thank you for praying John. And, we cannot wait to meet you!
Praising Him with you today, and praying for Hope and Lily, that our great Savior will prepare them for the unexpected blessing that is to come. -Nikki
Sara. I am so happy you have found your second daughter. I cannot wait to see the rest of your journey unfold.
I’m loving reading your posts and your paths to your new daughters. I, too, adopted an older child, 7, last year. It was terrifying, exhilarating, a lesson in love and patience. I had always wanted to adopt older but was fearful of the unknowns. Hindsight, what a wonderful experience for us all. I often recount the story in my mind again and again.
Oh I love this testimony. Thank you Cheri!
He does clothe the ‘Lilies’ of the field, though they don’t toil, in robes finer than those of King Solomon. He’s prepared a home for her (clearly your mother’s heart is fertile to receive her). So eager to see how God brings both Lily and Hope into your arms!
Congratulations! I’ve been eagerly waiting to read about the next “yes.”
AMAZING! I will be praying that you will be able to get your girls quickly!
“The older child, the one without the rescue strategy.” Your sliver is also mine. I love reading your posts. Hearing of God’s faithfulness to the dream He planted in your heart for “her” is fanning the flame of hope in my heart as I wait for “him.” Thank you.
WOW. What an awesome post. You have poured your heart out & it has left us, the reader, that more blessed. I can’t wait to hear more about your expanding family. I definitely can relate to this post – but only my dear hubby & you know that now. My heart just aches for so many of these children, but I also keep getting a “not yet.” But, I do take my notes so that when I get another green light, I pray we will be ready for whatever He gives us.
Blessings & thanks again for sharing.
-Charity
mom to 5 ( 3 bio sons, 1 girl from China just 1 year ago, & waiting for our June 7 embassy appointment for our ET daughter through IAN)
Thank you Charity. June 7th — ohhh, that’s just around the corner …but so far away
. This wait is the hardest, but best leg!
May God bend down right now and whisper in Hope and Lily Hagerty’s ears, “They’ll be here soon. I picked them just for you!”
Blessings!
Amen!
It’s just too early in the morning or something as I read this because the tears are streaming down my cheeks. Your writing gets better and better, Sarah Hagerty. Beautiful. Beautiful. Beautiful.
I can’t add to what all these smart, godly women have commented except lame things like: “Yeah -what SHE said”. But I concur wholeheartedly. I praise God for your daughters with you, my friend!!! Your little girl is such a sweet joy. I rejoice with you in satisfaction of God’s plan. And I gratefully thank you for sharing this because my heart spent the weeks in UG holding my own daughter, looking around corners wondering “is that her?” knowing I have more daughters, knowing it’s not time, but looking into faces for recognition anyway.
Thank you. For knowing and writing about yearning even while a cup is overflowing with abundance.
xoxoxo
Esty
Thank you Esty! It’s so hard to go once, and see the beauty of one life altered through adoption, and not want to do it again and again. Praise God for His perfectc timing! And congratulations on your own beautiful story!
I love your story. I love how the Lord leads and how you have said yes. I love the adventure, the beauty, the redemption. He re-defines beauty & desire for us, our narrow ways of man. He stretches us. He IS love. He IS beauty. We follow this man Jesus. I’m glad to be on the journey with you guys. May you sharpen us.
how utterly wonderful.
i know your story well.
it is my own.
we brought our 7 year old daughter home june 30th last year…
praying for you all as you begin your journey of healing and family.
I just found your blog today and am so glad I did. This is a beautiful post and one that I know a little about too.
We are waiting for our daughter and son in Ethiopia who are 10 and 12. Much older than we ever thought we would consider. But GOD. He has placed them in our hearts and lives forever and now I cannot imagine not pursuing them. My heart aches to hold them again and to help them to heal from so many things that have hurt them. They ask when we are coming back for them every day and it is so hard.
Thank you for sharing your story. I look forward to following along…
I am so excited to watch as her beauty unfolds in your home. Your patience and perseverance serve as an example to me. Love you friend!
Loved reading this post. I am at the stages where you were – waiting for God to say YES – for us to pursue an older boy I met at an orphanage in addis. Its hard for this momma heart to wait, knowing he waits. Thank you for sharing though… i hope soon I will feel the same call for my boys <3
KCG, Candice & Amy — Love these stories. Amy on the other end and Candice and KCG waiting, like us. “It’s hard for this momma heart to wait, knowing he waits” — amen. “But God.”
Sara, that is such exciting news! Praying for your family and for Lily, that God would already be uniting your hearts together even while you are apart!
Sara,
I found your blog from the Top 25 adoption blogs list and am SO glad I clicked over! We have a “Lily”. . . and God had placed “her” on my heart for many years before she came into our lives too. . . well, actually we have two “Lilys” (and a few others as well! LOL!). . .
just wanted to say that I LOVE hearing your heart for speaking Truth and Love over your Lily and that we have seen Him do amazing things in our daughter’s lives! Daughters that were left by the system as “unadoptable” and seen as beyond hope, too scary, and not worth the risk by so many others. . .
It is totally worth it. You might find what I re-posted from my archives today encouraging! Nice to meet you. I look forward to reading more and will be praying for you.
Wow, Jen. I saw your site. You all are living quite a story. How beautiful!!