“This Is Our Daughter”
We have not yet met our girls, but their story has been written into ours since the beginning of time. Two tales of brokenness, simultaneously evolving on two different continents — finally intersecting.
And the treasure hunt just began.
What had been a heaven-only plan has surfaced and I shed tears over my computer keys at the thought of the Father’s delight that we might finally know what He has been concocting. That their fatherless hearts might finally know what He’s conceived for them.
So, we have these messengers. Friends, conveniently located within distance of our girls. Bringing messages to them of the family waiting, and returning with arms full of gold: details on these Hagerty’s we haven’t yet met.
One will go to Hope tomorrow — to hug, to hold, to be my arms until my flesh meets hers and I move from stranger to kin in an instant.
And another visited with our sweet Lily recently. She showed her our pictures and tickled barren-child places. She captured the fire in this girl’s eyes on camera and didn’t miss the moment when her smile broke and teeth revealed delight.
“I’m happy!” Lily pronounced confidently as she found herself comfortable in my friend’s presence.
When prodded as to why, she said, “Last night I dreamed about my dad. That they came to Ug@nda to get me. They took me to America and took me to church. And at church they said, ‘This is our daughter’.”
Sweet child — who’s never privately known the strong forearms of a father cradling her delicate self, or the feel of his stubble against her cheek when he kisses her goodnight, or the firmness of his chest-made-into-pillow that she somehow can sink into — is ready to be declared publicly that she is his.
Orphan made daughter, first in her dreams. Holy preparation. She is no longer a face among many, but one singled out.
And she’s happy. “So happy” she wrote in a letter to us, transcribed by our friend the messenger.
My back-stage look into the dream she remembered at just the right time to share with our informer, has two themes. Beyond the obvious, I see another Father. One who has had her name written on His palm since the beginning of time, and who has decided that now is the time for His people to know His daughter.
He wipes away any shame with His confident declaration and He tells the church: she is a daughter.
These words have seared me for days. They linger when I visit with an adoptive father who refers to “the daughter of his own” as different than his son, adopted. They hang heavy in my heart as I enter a conversation with another who draws a line in the sand between the “real way” to children — pregnancy — and a seeming act of charity, adoption.
Our family’s calling to the parent-less is no longer the secret in my heart. I wear it beside me at the grocery, in the prayer room, and on my front porch to my neighbors. And while I love to talk about it and have much grace for the unknowing, innocent comments (as one who spends a lot of time with my own foot in mouth 
), the undercurrent perception I’ve seen, at times, pains me.
Many see my children as a tithe, a great offering to the Lord of sacrifice. Charity in its fullest expression — not just external, but in my home. But the Father spoke another word — into my heart, and into Lily’s dream.
“She is my daughter” He declares to His church.
Folded into God, folded into our home. Skin made obvious the separation, but the grafting-in story is as if each of their compositions were wrapped in my flesh from the beginning of time. This is not at all to negate the beauty of their birth-parents and their life-blood outpouring, but to expose the fact that restoration re-writes a child. It doesn’t just prettify the ending with one great charitable act which the child is to forever wear as a banner. It stamps hope where there was once decay.
This is not philanthropy. It is regeneration.
My call from God has crossed past the threshold of “sacrifice”, which many label God-following to be, and over into outpouring received.
And the blessings are such that I can’t gather enough cisterns to contain them.
So, when my child, whose feet have only known African soil, finds a way to rest her 8 year-old frame in my lap, as if she was infant and looks at me with eyes that long to belong to someone, the feeling that emerges will not be a satisfaction with my contribution to bettering this broken world. My response will be who am I, Father, that you would hand me the keys of your kingdom — in the form of your daughter — and let me call her mine?
Beautiful Sara!
Absolutely beautiful. it is so very hard to contradict those well meaning who think of our children are “charity.” I assure you, these children are more a blessing to me than I to them. Cannot wait to meet Hope and Lily
In tears, Sara. As our family continues to transform and learn one another, this post hit deep in my heart. Those “nice things” strangers, even friends and colleagues, say every day to our family, are often like daggers in my heart, giving the enemy a foothold on our fragile family, allowing feelings of insecurity, doubt and inferiority to settle. I pray daily for protection for my children’s hearts, for my heart, from feeling second best, from being living “charity” cases. God Bless You for writing these words He speaks to your heart. They are reminders and confirmation for those of us who walk with you. Who are we? We are His children, dearly loved, nothing less.
Oh my goodness. I can’t read your blog without a box of tissue. Your eloquence and sincerity always push the very right buttons…
Lily’s sweet dream is…wow. Just plain powerful. Thank you so much for sharing.
Sara, I think this is the BEST BLOG POST I’ve ever read. I echo what Rachelle said about your eloquence & sincerity!! You speak of things that come from the depths of my heart in the most beautiful way. So thankful to hear your voice amidst of sea of silence and lack of enthusiasm over our journey to our son and daughter. The dream of your daughter fills me with great HOPE that just as I have prayed, God will work in the hearts of my children and prepare the way for His work, His love, His plan of redemption worked out in our family. thank you thank you thank you.
Sooo powerful and moving!! Thanks for yet another great post!
Oh Sara – I LOVE this. ‘This is not philanthropy. It is regeneration.’
‘Praise to the Lord who over all things so wondrously reigns..’.
Thank you for this. We’ve been home with our dear daughter Laina for exactly a week today, and we’re still unwrapping the meaning of adoption. This, “she is my daughter” is me before my Father, shown to me as her before hers.
gosh, I am humbled.
Sara—
Speechless. Your last little bit about her being the keys to His kingdom. I am knocked to the floor—-in tears.
I read it last night, but have come back to it repeatedly just to have it stick a little more in my head.
THANK YOU!
Oh my – this is just stunning. Thank you so much for your eloquence, your honesty, your heart. And thank you especially for so beautifully describing the most exquisitely real truth of your adoption process – the regeneration part, the keys of the kingdom part, the fitting-together-like-hand-in-glove part, the beautiful eternal design part. Oh yes, thank you so much.
AMEN!!!! Adoption is the forming of family NOT a charity! My, how your grace and eloquence portray this truth beautifully! You are one gifted writer. With one beautiful heart!
Sara… I. sigh. Blessed and encouraged by your unrelenting pursuit of the Father, I am thankful for such strong examples as you and Nate. I’m thankful for the Holy Spirit who is already at work in your Lily’s life, and will continue to pray for your family’s journey. It pains me to read about someone who would make the distinction; I can’t imagine how you feel. We miss you and love you guys, even the daughters we haven’t met yet!! Praying for God’s best for you.
Can you email me what agency you are using for Uganda? Do you know anything about Little Miracles International? I have read your blog for about a year now and am currently looking into Uganda, specifically a sibling group that is through LMI. Any info you might have would be greatly appreciated.
I have goose bumps and tears all at the same time! So excited about your little girls!!!!!
Wonderful! Can’t wait to meet your new girls!