We have felt loved, uplifted, motivated, inspired, empowered, and {most recently} uneasy. Let me explain.
As I've mentioned before, this journey was not one that we chose. We didn't set out looking for a child to adopt. We were not feeling particularly faithful, open-hearted, or even financially stable. Our adoption journey began because we saw a need, said a prayer, and took a step. There was a child who needed our hearts and our home and we happened to have room in both.
As I prepared to leave for this most recent trip to Ghana, the one where I expected to take custody and bring my son home for good, I received a lot of encouragement and unsolicited praise from people around me. I was called a good mother: selfless, loyal, and brave. But not one of these compliments felt right in my soul. Accepting and believing any one of these accolades made me feel like a fraud. It made me feel like I was taking the focus off from where it truly belonged and allowing it to fall on myself, where it clearly did not. I hated this, but I didn't stop it.
Then I got to Ghana. And this time, things felt different. Instead of filling my memory card with pictures of me kissing chocolate-skinned owwies and handing out candy and sharing Bible stories and teaching the ABC's, I found myself wanting to capture the real experience. I didn't want the pictures that made me look like a good mom, American, missionary, or teacher this time. I wanted the pictures that captured the real Ghana. The real orphans. My real heart. And God's.
It was just a few days later, on one of many long walks around the perimeter of the orphanage and school, that the vision for Emmanuel's Land came to me. I was carrying my son in my arms and singing to him from one of my deepest heart-songs:
Of all the duties I have done
I quit the hopes I held before,
To trust the merits of Thy Son
No more my God
No more my God
No more my God
I boast no more
Now, for the loss I bear his name,
What was my gain I count my loss
My former pride I call my shame
And nail my glory to His cross
Yes, and I must, I will esteem
All things but loss for Jesus' sake
O may my soul be found in Him
And of His righteousness partake
Amen, amen
The best obedience of my hands
Dares not appear before Thy throne
But faith can answer Thy demands
By pleading what my Lord has done
(Lyrics: I Boast No More, by Caedmon's Call)
I have allowed this journey to look like it's about paperwork. About pictures. About praying through the process. But I haven't stopped myself lately, and I haven't stopped you, to point back to the source. Every insecurity that I have felt as a result of your recent praise is because of this: I have been {unintentionally} accepting the glory for God's story.
As I continued to walk, sweat, sing, cry, and pray with my precious boy in my arms, God spoke again.
"Are you saving your best striving for MY son, or for YOURS?" {ouch.}
I was instantly faced with the realization that, while one side of my mouth was continuing to claim that God was the one holding the pen in this story, the other side was pleading only for progress toward my personal goal. I had gone to Ghana willing to accept whatever the Lord had in store for me, as long as it meant returning with my baby in my arms.
But what if that wasn't part of this story after all?
Through honest and urgent reflection, desperate soul-searching, and a million rapid-fire, tear-stained prayers, the vision for Emmanuel's Land was firmly planted as I echoed the first verse of the same song one last time:
"No more my God, I boast no more
Of all the duties I have done
I quit the hopes I held before,
To trust the merits of Thy Son."
On the side of the red-dirt road, with wide open eyes, ears, and hands, I recommitted this journey right back to the One who started it all. Regardless of how it all ends.
The Lord has placed an irrepressible desire in me to fight for the orphans of Ghana -- not just the one who shares my last name. By creating Emmanuel's Land, I hope to raise awareness and provide support for the very place that has both shaped my faith and given me my son. And none of the glory will go to me.
Adoption is sometimes seen as a "band-aid" for a deeply-rooted, often systemic, problem. The reality is that band-aids are necessary, but not always sustainable. By partnering with a local organization with an eye to longevity and a history of facilitating and encouraging family preservation, child welfare and education, and (as a last resort) adoption of the most vulnerable children, I believe that Emmanuel's Land will be a sustainable support system for a successful, local, and organic organization that is already in place: the Offin Children's Centre and Blessed Child School.
Emmanuel's Land will begin by addressing some of the urgent needs that I witnessed last week: starting with the establishment of a long-term child sponsorship program. The finances needed will be raised, initially, through the sale of jewelry and accessories made with supplies from Ghanaian artisans {as soon as I unpack my bags and get over my jet-lag!}
Further down the road, I have dreams of planning trips and partnering with the orphanage and school to provide continuing education, resources, and training for Ghanaian families, caregivers, and teachers. I would also like to transfer aspects of the fundraising/accessory-making efforts from my hands to those of the children/students in order to equip and empower them with lifelong skills in a productive trade. {Much, much more info on all of that to come...}
By working toward a 501c3 designation, my hope is that all donations to Emmanuel's Land will eventually be tax-deductible.
All in all, this is a God-sized dream for a petite-sized mama. It is a dramatic detour from the road that I thought I was walking down just one week ago. It is all-at-once energizing, exhausting, and scary as heck...but I've never been more confident that He who has promised is faithful.
Dares not appear before Thy throne
But faith can answer Thy demands
By pleading what my Lord has done."
With a deep breath and an AMEN...here we go!