Monday, November 15, 2010



I have trouble having confidence that I’ve heard God and not just myself. That was the case in 2009 and, really, still is the case most of the time.

Late one night I was awake reading a book about God speaking through visions and dreams. So discouraged with my inability to distinguish God’s voice, I begged God that night to help me. I begged for clarity. I begged for dreams. Actually, I asked for Him to speak to me in dreams, and I tacked on at the end of the prayer, “and please start tonight.” That last line started a more fervent time of prayer that ended with my utter assurance that God would give me a dream that very night. In that I was confident.

It was hard to go to sleep for the excitement. What would He say? I had specifically asked for a dream about the future, about kids, about adoption. Anything to give clarity to our future.

I woke around 3 a.m. No dream. After a trip to the bathroom and a walk back to bed I reminded God that there were several more hours of opportunity.

And then the dream came. One stripe of orange, one of white, one of green and one intricate circle in the middle. India. I’d rarely seen the flag before but that night in the dream it was as if I’d known it forever.

I supposed the dream meant we would adopt from there. All I knew was that my prayer had been answered. Answered with mystery but answered. I whispered prayers of sweet thankfulness.

Then, two weeks later another dream came. This time unsolicited and much clearer.

I stood in an orphanage that was on fire. Starring for an infinitely long time at a Greek Orthodox church in the distance, the workers asked me to stay with the children while the fire was controlled. As I stepped in the room, God called to me in the clearest voice:

“Look for her, she’s here.”

I just knew. No lack of confidence. No questioning if my voice or His. He meant a little Indian girl sat somewhere in that room. And she had been set apart for me. My eyes scanned the room. There were lots waiting. But I searched every face for her dark skin and beautiful brown eyes.

Then, as I stepped close to the door, I saw her. She was sitting with a child in her lap at what looked like an old cafeteria table. She had been looking at me the whole time waiting for me to lock eyes with her. Her hair was short and black and her face beautiful. But it was her eyes that I noted the most.

Her eyes said, “Finally, Mama. I’ve been waiting so long for you.” She was absolutely beaming.

And then as clearly as His voice spoke, I knew. She would be older than I ever thought we would adopt. She was seven or eight.

I stepped through the door, and I was awake.

The weeks and months that followed were incredible.

{To be continued tomorrow....}

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