When I was in Ethiopia I met a young boy, 10 years old, who made an impression on me immediately. We spent time together laughing, talking, and once we even danced around a fire with handfuls of his peers. I remember looking at him with his smile glowing in the firelight and thinking that I would do anything to find him a family. My commitment was strong. I walked back from the party that evening to my little Ethiopian flat and emailed everyone I knew telling them about this child, pleading for a family for him.
Time went on. I returned home with my son. Right before Christmas a letter came all the way from Ethiopia. It was from this child, the one that I had in my own heart committed to not rest until he had a mom and a dad. I wrote him back. Time went on again. Another letter came in the middle of January. And, yesterday another letter came. My husband handed me the letter and it made my heart happy to see that he was still thinking of us.
He wrote in his letter about school, and his good memories of us. He wrote that even though his parents were dead he knew that God would take care of him because “God makes all things good.” But, it was the end of his letter that caught my attention most deeply.
“Please, do not forget about me.”
I thought for a moment. I wondered why he was saying this. I had written to him. He knew that I had not forgotten him. I sent him messages through other traveling parents. I sent him pictures and mementos. I had not forgotten him. Or, had I?
I would almost guarantee that if you look in your junior high school year book there will be silly notes written from friends that ask you to not forget. I have one in my yearbook that claims I am a best friend with a girl that I cannot even recall ever knowing. “BFF (for those of you that were not hip that stands for Best Friends Forever!) and never forget our fun times!” are written in bold script. What fun times? Who is this girl? The memories have long left my mind. Over this forgetfulness I feel no conviction. But, over this child and his memory there is conviction deep in my spirit.
I had not forgotten his name, or that we had a good relationship, or that I really liked him. I had not forgotten to write him. I had not forgotten to talk about him with my son. But, I did forget the longing in his eyes, the raw need for him to be embraced by a family, the way he so patiently waited for someone to step up and say to him that he was coming home with them. I did forget this. I let my commitment to him, even though it was never promised aloud, wane over time.
Through tears I looked up at my husband last night and asked him if we could adopt this child (who also has a sister). I do not know if we are going to honestly. I do not know what is going to happen. I know that we are scared about adopting again as we have absolutely no room in our finances for this now. I know that we are nervous about adopting two children who are older. I know that this does not fit into our plans and that the mere idea of all of this just sounds plain out nuts to both of us. But, more than that I know that sometimes that which seems absolutely nuts is what God is truly asking of us. Very few of the men and women that God used in the Bible had tasks to do that were easy breezy instead they were radical, risky, and required sacrifice. We are praying now and trying to not think like Americans, but rather asking God to help us think and see through his eyes.
In the meantime, I am vowing not to forget. Time and distance are no excuse. There is a child, a marvelous child and his sister, who need to know that they are loved. This type of love requires action. They need to be pursued and embraced and taken home.
If you have a child that you have forgotten, a face you saw that lit a spark in your spirit, please remember it. Don’t pen it down in the yearbook of your life and close the pages only to let is slip away. Do something. Be a little nuts.
God spoke clearly to us these words, this promise:
Never will I leave you. Never will I forsake you.
I think that he is speaking to us as a Father to his child, knowing that this will bring us deep comfort and hoping that we will follow his example to never forget the lonely.
Hebrews 13:5
Isaiah 58