Finding "B"
Growing Team Speakman
Finding "B" was no accident. It is a story woven together using fabrics of families, ribbons of time and accented with heavenly touches. A seed planted in my heart when I was a child lay seemingly dormant for many years, though in reality it was being watered and cultivated slowly by the Master Gardener. He knew the perfect time for that seed to sprout. Not too soon, not too late.
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Much to my surprise, one day after coming home from a TDY, Ric brought up adoption. I never thought he would be the first to bring it up. I honestly thought I would have to wait and beg and yet when he first brought it up, I wasn't sure I was ready. We had 3 children in 2 years and he had been deployed for 6 months immediately after our youngest was born. Our youngest also went through a very trying time for almost two years that left me feeling drained.
About a year later after moving to Ohio, our conversations turned toward adoption once again. We talked briefly about it but now I was ready. Those little conversations were all I needed to send me off researching agencies and sending out for information while Ric was at work.
In October my parents came for a visit. As she and my dad were getting ready to leave she began telling me about a little boy that was to be hosted by a family friend Jill. Though I had never met Jill I knew she had adopted two little girls. My mom had often talked about them and gave me updates. Our girls even received winter jackets they had outgrown. I think I even remember her mentioning "B" at some point in the past. "B" had been best friends with one of her daughters in the orphanage. When she brought her daughter home, she would cry for "B" at night. Jill had followed him over the years, watching as he was passed by time and time again. Now, he was 8 years old and available for hosting. Indiana had becoming a hosting state. We had moved close to home that year and unknown to my mom, we had begun talking about adoption.
As my mom showed me the pictures she acted strangely. She had no idea that Ric and I had begun talking about adopting. I said, "What? Do you want US to adopt him?" She replied, "Well, yeah, kind of," and laughed.
What should have been an off-handed conversation was anything but that. It struck my heart deeply. From that moment on I was propelled forward for reasons unknown to me. I sat up late at night reading Jill's Facebook posts as she prepared for his arrival. Just looking at his picture and asking, "Could this boy be my son? What am I supposed to do with this?". I would search various adoption sites to read all of the information I could about "B". Many people would talk about seeing a child's picture and just knowing that was their child. I didn't have that. But I just couldn't shake these feelings. So I asked a good friend of mine who was about 4 months into the adoption process. They had looked through many pictures and thought at times they had found their child only to find out days later that child had recently found a family. She said sometimes we are just called to pray these children into a home. Yes, yes that was it. I was just supposed to pray for him. And I did. I prayed him into a home. Little did I know it would be mine.
About a year later after moving to Ohio, our conversations turned toward adoption once again. We talked briefly about it but now I was ready. Those little conversations were all I needed to send me off researching agencies and sending out for information while Ric was at work.
In October my parents came for a visit. As she and my dad were getting ready to leave she began telling me about a little boy that was to be hosted by a family friend Jill. Though I had never met Jill I knew she had adopted two little girls. My mom had often talked about them and gave me updates. Our girls even received winter jackets they had outgrown. I think I even remember her mentioning "B" at some point in the past. "B" had been best friends with one of her daughters in the orphanage. When she brought her daughter home, she would cry for "B" at night. Jill had followed him over the years, watching as he was passed by time and time again. Now, he was 8 years old and available for hosting. Indiana had becoming a hosting state. We had moved close to home that year and unknown to my mom, we had begun talking about adoption.
As my mom showed me the pictures she acted strangely. She had no idea that Ric and I had begun talking about adopting. I said, "What? Do you want US to adopt him?" She replied, "Well, yeah, kind of," and laughed.
What should have been an off-handed conversation was anything but that. It struck my heart deeply. From that moment on I was propelled forward for reasons unknown to me. I sat up late at night reading Jill's Facebook posts as she prepared for his arrival. Just looking at his picture and asking, "Could this boy be my son? What am I supposed to do with this?". I would search various adoption sites to read all of the information I could about "B". Many people would talk about seeing a child's picture and just knowing that was their child. I didn't have that. But I just couldn't shake these feelings. So I asked a good friend of mine who was about 4 months into the adoption process. They had looked through many pictures and thought at times they had found their child only to find out days later that child had recently found a family. She said sometimes we are just called to pray these children into a home. Yes, yes that was it. I was just supposed to pray for him. And I did. I prayed him into a home. Little did I know it would be mine.
I still wasn't sure why I was almost obsessed with reading about him. I thought, should I go meet him? Just in case? Every once in awhile I would casually mention him to my husband. I think I wanted to see if he had a reaction to help confirm the feelings I was having. But, nothing. At the same time I thought it might be nice to adopt an infant. My girls are old enough to be helpful and love being around babies. But just the word "baby" made my husband curl up into a ball on the floor with visions of cries resounding through baby monitors at odd hours of the night, diaper bags, and...wait for it....CABINET LOCKS! Oh the horror!
Still, I was trying to convince myself that this wasn't God. How could he call me to this plan? This plan that was so different than my own. A boy? In a house with 3 sisters? An Older child? So I called on a friend at our previous church where I knew they had a love for the orphan. I thought they may have a family already waiting to be matched with a child. Maybe they would love to meet him. After emailing him I had a dream that he told me I was trying to pass off my responsibility for this child onto someone else.
Still, I was trying to convince myself that this wasn't God. How could he call me to this plan? This plan that was so different than my own. A boy? In a house with 3 sisters? An Older child? So I called on a friend at our previous church where I knew they had a love for the orphan. I thought they may have a family already waiting to be matched with a child. Maybe they would love to meet him. After emailing him I had a dream that he told me I was trying to pass off my responsibility for this child onto someone else.
Not long after my mom told me about him, we walked into church and it was Adoption Sunday. Ugh, of course I thought. The pastors acknowledged the multiple ways to care for orphans and asked people to stand as they named them. Hesitantly I stood as they mentioned sponsoring a child. I stood sobbing. Sobbing because I felt it wasn't enough. Not that it wasn't meaningful to those children. Just feeling insufficient. As they mentioned how so many families at our church have adopted I looked around expecting to see hoards of people stand. And though I saw a handful of people, I was broken to think about the millions of orphans and wonder how we the church, and how I, were not doing more.
"B" was hosted in the States the following month and I followed, stalked really, the Facebook page about his visit, pouring over his pictures all the while wondering what my role was supposed to be in this little boy's life. My husband and I continued to talk to nail down a direction (domestic or international; infant or preschool age) but seemed to be getting nowhere. Finally I said, "I want us to make a decision. Let's sit down and talk about this." So we did. Part of me was still interested in adopting a baby. It still scared him (those darn cabinet locks!) So we prayed. Afterward he looked at me and sighed as he waved the white flag of defeat and said, "So...we're getting a baby." I laughed. Just because we prayed doesn't mean I get my way! I carefully responded, "Well....we could adopt "B"." He asked me to tell him again about "B". I showed him the Facebook page and I told him how I knew of him and the family. He said, "See, I get excited about this!" So I typed up an email to Jill asking if someone had already said they wanted to adopt him. Before sending it I said, " I really think God has been working on me for awhile, so if we email her I really think he will be our son." Without hesitation, Ric reached over my shoulder and hit Send.
Remember earlier how I said I didn't have an emotional response? Well, immediately upon saying yes to God and His promptings, we were flooded with love for this child. It was immediate and overwhelming. I just knew he was my son and I couldn't have been more excited. It was such a lesson in obedience. The world tells us to just follow our heart and listen to our emotions. It wasn't emotion that brought us to our son. Just that still, quiet voice prompting me forward over and over. A voice that led us to prayer. And prayer that led us to obedience. And confirmation that came after obedience.
As we have corresponded with Jill it has continued to amaze us how this story has come together. I'd love to tell how we told my mom and our children, but maybe another time. For now, we sit 5 months later still waiting on our home study to be finalized. It seems like forever but we try to remind ourselves that God knew these delays would come. And that we will be on a plane to get our son at just the right time. Not too soon, not too late.
I remember the waiting game. It took close to two years to adopt our child f on Ukraine. I used the waiting time to read, read and read some more. I studied how to help Vasya attach to our family, how to deal with hurting children and how to speak Russian. Almost nine years ago, to the day, Vasya was finally officially ours. I remember sitting on the Delta plane, as it took off for America and realizing it was real. Vasya was 14 years old when we brought him home. Your journey is a life time one. I would do it all over again! Praying you have peace during the wait. Check out our journey on my Facebook page, margaretluckjones.
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