On Thursday, we celebrated the sixth anniversary of a very special day, the day that two little girls in Russia started calling me Mama. What an amazing journey of joy, love, and faith we've been riding ever since. I wrote this reflection a few months after that day and included it with their adoption announcements. I can't recall if I've already posted it here, but it seems right to look back now and remember....
I will always remember the moment I discovered that two daughters were waiting for me in Russia. Sitting in our kitchen with the phone to my ear, my heart pounding, I scribbled their names and birth dates on the back of an envelope. I was still mourning the loss of our referral for Saule, a precious six-year-old in Kazakhstan. Could I dare to believe that these two little girls really would become mine? Yet in my heart I had to hope, and I marveled at how beautifully God was answering our prayers--not one, but two girls, sisters who could remain together. He even chose for us girls whose names (Valentina and Anastasia) and ages (7 and 5) were a perfect match for our family. (All of my daughters’ names end in “a” and have three or more syllables, and seven- and five-year-old girls would perfectly fill the gap between our nine- and two-year olds.) That moment was filled with hope for the future our Father had designed for us.
I will always remember the moment we met our little girls for the first time. As we anxiously waited in a tiny hospital room three hours south of Moscow, I was overwhelmed with nervous anticipation of what would be. Valya bounded into the room with energy and sweetness, and Nastia wandered in after her and remained much more detached and reserved. It was awkward and strange, not being able to communicate in words and knowing we would soon be welcoming these strangers into our lives forever. After the social worker asked Valya if she would like for us to be her parents and she quietly responded “da,” she became shy and seemed fearful. At the time Nastia didn’t seem to understand what was happening. Knowing her now, I think she probably did understand but trusted Valya to take care of things, as she always had. The next day Valya ran into my arms, shouting “Mama, Mama!” and Nastia even smiled a little. Precious gifts for a new mother.
I will always remember the moment we were standing in court before the Russian judge as she read her decision allowing us to adopt our girls. Of course, I couldn’t comprehend a word she was saying, but our translator was smiling so I knew it must be good news. After the brief but joyous translation, Jim turned to me and said, “Congratulations. You are now the mother of four.” Wow. What a surreal moment. I felt an awesome sense of responsibility to have their little lives placed into my hands. I may never know why they had to spend so many years without us, but I do believe that God’s timing is perfect, that He had to prepare us for them, and that they had a purpose to fulfill in Russia. From the beginning of time, He chose these daughters for us and set forth the paths that would lead us to each other.
I will always remember the terrifying moment we were first left alone with the girls without a translator. Within five minutes, they had torn through every suitcase and turned our hotel room upside down. I cried and wondered what we had done as I faced the reality that our lives would never be the same. The first weeks at home were very difficult. There were tantrums from all sides as we grieved our losses and learned to live with one another. Looking back, I can see that it was something we had to walk through together, but at the time it felt incredibly wrong. Valya became especially fond of the first song on a children’s praise CD, and she used to play it loudly over and over and over in the girls’ bedroom. It nearly drove me crazy. Those lyrics were some of the first English words she learned (“Change my heart, O God; make it ever new; change my heart, O God; may I be like You”), and I remember thinking bitterly, “How ironic that she chose that song--I hope the words are sinking in.” Only later would I realize that the Holy Spirit was inspiring her to play that song for me, for I was the one who needed to hear that prayer.
I will always remember the moment the Lord spoke clearly to me in my heart as I knelt after receiving the Eucharist. I was hurting so deeply that I could not even utter a cry for help, and He told me that my struggle was not about the girls but about my relationship with Him. In the same words that He spoke to Peter two thousand years ago, He asked, “Diane, do you love Me?” Like Peter, I responded, “Lord, you know that I do,” and He said, “Feed My lambs.” He reminded me that these two beautiful girls kneeling next to me were His precious lambs, whom He loved with all His heart, and that He had entrusted them to my keeping. What a privilege and honor, yet I had not embraced His gift. He told me that love was not a matter of how I feel, but of what I do and how I do it. That moment changed me forever. Jesus did not remove the struggle, but He graced me with new perspective. I am eternally grateful for His mercy.
Most of all, I will always remember how Valya and Nastia have loved and trusted us with complete abandon from the very first moment. They have been such brave and strong and joyful little pilgrims, never looking back, charging forward full of hope and life. They have endured tremendously painful and difficult experiences, including leaving behind everything they knew—their caregivers, friends, language, and country—to join a family of strangers in a foreign land, but you would never know it if you met them. I can honestly say that they are the happiest children I have ever known. They greet each new day and situation with enthusiasm and song. After being their mother for almost five months, I have learned so much, first about the depths of my weakness and sinfulness, but more importantly, about what it means to love and to live and to surrender control. What precious gifts they are to me. I pray that someday I may be able to love and trust my Father in Heaven as they have loved and trusted me. With complete abandon.
I will always remember the moment I discovered that two daughters were waiting for me in Russia. Sitting in our kitchen with the phone to my ear, my heart pounding, I scribbled their names and birth dates on the back of an envelope. I was still mourning the loss of our referral for Saule, a precious six-year-old in Kazakhstan. Could I dare to believe that these two little girls really would become mine? Yet in my heart I had to hope, and I marveled at how beautifully God was answering our prayers--not one, but two girls, sisters who could remain together. He even chose for us girls whose names (Valentina and Anastasia) and ages (7 and 5) were a perfect match for our family. (All of my daughters’ names end in “a” and have three or more syllables, and seven- and five-year-old girls would perfectly fill the gap between our nine- and two-year olds.) That moment was filled with hope for the future our Father had designed for us.
I will always remember the moment we met our little girls for the first time. As we anxiously waited in a tiny hospital room three hours south of Moscow, I was overwhelmed with nervous anticipation of what would be. Valya bounded into the room with energy and sweetness, and Nastia wandered in after her and remained much more detached and reserved. It was awkward and strange, not being able to communicate in words and knowing we would soon be welcoming these strangers into our lives forever. After the social worker asked Valya if she would like for us to be her parents and she quietly responded “da,” she became shy and seemed fearful. At the time Nastia didn’t seem to understand what was happening. Knowing her now, I think she probably did understand but trusted Valya to take care of things, as she always had. The next day Valya ran into my arms, shouting “Mama, Mama!” and Nastia even smiled a little. Precious gifts for a new mother.
I will always remember the moment we were standing in court before the Russian judge as she read her decision allowing us to adopt our girls. Of course, I couldn’t comprehend a word she was saying, but our translator was smiling so I knew it must be good news. After the brief but joyous translation, Jim turned to me and said, “Congratulations. You are now the mother of four.” Wow. What a surreal moment. I felt an awesome sense of responsibility to have their little lives placed into my hands. I may never know why they had to spend so many years without us, but I do believe that God’s timing is perfect, that He had to prepare us for them, and that they had a purpose to fulfill in Russia. From the beginning of time, He chose these daughters for us and set forth the paths that would lead us to each other.
I will always remember the terrifying moment we were first left alone with the girls without a translator. Within five minutes, they had torn through every suitcase and turned our hotel room upside down. I cried and wondered what we had done as I faced the reality that our lives would never be the same. The first weeks at home were very difficult. There were tantrums from all sides as we grieved our losses and learned to live with one another. Looking back, I can see that it was something we had to walk through together, but at the time it felt incredibly wrong. Valya became especially fond of the first song on a children’s praise CD, and she used to play it loudly over and over and over in the girls’ bedroom. It nearly drove me crazy. Those lyrics were some of the first English words she learned (“Change my heart, O God; make it ever new; change my heart, O God; may I be like You”), and I remember thinking bitterly, “How ironic that she chose that song--I hope the words are sinking in.” Only later would I realize that the Holy Spirit was inspiring her to play that song for me, for I was the one who needed to hear that prayer.
I will always remember the moment the Lord spoke clearly to me in my heart as I knelt after receiving the Eucharist. I was hurting so deeply that I could not even utter a cry for help, and He told me that my struggle was not about the girls but about my relationship with Him. In the same words that He spoke to Peter two thousand years ago, He asked, “Diane, do you love Me?” Like Peter, I responded, “Lord, you know that I do,” and He said, “Feed My lambs.” He reminded me that these two beautiful girls kneeling next to me were His precious lambs, whom He loved with all His heart, and that He had entrusted them to my keeping. What a privilege and honor, yet I had not embraced His gift. He told me that love was not a matter of how I feel, but of what I do and how I do it. That moment changed me forever. Jesus did not remove the struggle, but He graced me with new perspective. I am eternally grateful for His mercy.
Most of all, I will always remember how Valya and Nastia have loved and trusted us with complete abandon from the very first moment. They have been such brave and strong and joyful little pilgrims, never looking back, charging forward full of hope and life. They have endured tremendously painful and difficult experiences, including leaving behind everything they knew—their caregivers, friends, language, and country—to join a family of strangers in a foreign land, but you would never know it if you met them. I can honestly say that they are the happiest children I have ever known. They greet each new day and situation with enthusiasm and song. After being their mother for almost five months, I have learned so much, first about the depths of my weakness and sinfulness, but more importantly, about what it means to love and to live and to surrender control. What precious gifts they are to me. I pray that someday I may be able to love and trust my Father in Heaven as they have loved and trusted me. With complete abandon.
7 comments:
Just beautiful Diane, you are such an incredible mama!! Love to those girls :)
Beautiful, Diane!
Diane, it was great to meet you at the FCL conference! I didn't know about your experience in Russia. My husband and I always thought we'd be called to adopt from Russia because he majored in Russian and spent several semesters there - actually he became a Christian in Siberia. We thought maybe God had a purpose in that, but so far that hasn't been the case. Who knows? Yours is a beautiful story...
This BLOG is great. Thanks for sharing about your life. I got it off of your comment on Lynn's Blog. Ain't technology wonderful? I so love your humorous look at everyday life. I lol at times.
Lovely, moving story! Thanks for sharing.
wow. You are blessed to have each other. What an awesome gift to write this for your girls. I'm sure one day they will appreciate it.
What a lovely story. I hope to read a little more and learn more about you.
To Michelle - well, you never know! I majored in Russian, too - and wondered for over 20 years what that was about! But we adopted in our 50's FOUR times and I insist the children don't forget their Russian!
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