Happy news!  Lily and her new mom Elizabeth have made it home! Please continue to pray for those separated and still waiting. And for the adjustments ahead for this new family:)

I’ve never met her. I’ve not even seen a picture of her. I know about her. She’s a mother. For me- thats all it takes, to connect us.

Right now, maybe she’s patting her pregnant tummy and wondering if it was hunger pangs, or her baby’s first movement,  that she felt.  Maybe she worries about the health of both her unborn child and the toddler next to her. Maybe she worries what trauma will be remembered long after today.

For sure, she waits.

While she waits, maybe she holds the hand of the tiny Haitian girl.   They wait to finally be “officially”  mother and child, but their hearts are already one.. They wait to go home and be united with husband and new father.

As I write, they are still, at the US Embassy in Haiti. Waiting.

For paperwork.

Maybe it’s because I’m just shy of full blown OCD, or have too much time on my hands or am nosey, but the image of them waiting, so close to home but so far, won’t leave my mind.

Maybe it’s NOT because of  those things.

Maybe it’s because I’ve waited too.  I’ve been a part of the process of praying and waiting and raising funds and experiencing disappointment and excitement, while friends adopted from Russia.

Maybe it’s because I waited while friends were stuck in Russia, one document from becoming a family.

I watched as God and his people used creativity, passion and connections to get that piece of paper to Russia. I waited while a friend flew from Michigan to another state to take the papers to be hand delivered by another couple on their way to Russia, to adopt their own child.  We prayed.

I remember sitting on the kitchen floor,tears rolling down my smiling face, ear pressed to the phone listening as two little ones met over the phone for the first time.

I waited at the airport, for that flight home to arrive.

I wept as I saw a mother and child and grandparents and family and friends united.

I waited.

Much the way this mother in Haiti is waiting.

She needs help. She needs the Prime Minister to SIGN THE final paperwork.

Thats all.

What’s taking so long?  I don’t know.

I do know this, every mother matters.

And doing something, can make a difference.

What I can do, is share their story.

When I read it- I was touched. I wanted to DO SOMETHING.

I made some calls. I talked to the father.  I talked to someone working with Haiti. I sent some emails, I tweeted some people, I posted to facebook.. looking for those connections that might make a difference and end the waiting.

Will it make a difference?  I don’t know.

But it makes a difference to ME, because I know that I did what I could.

If I were there- holding that tiny hand, I’d desperately want  someone, to do something.

The sad fact is there is not just one mother waiting in Haiti with her legal, already in process before the earthquake adoption paperwork. There are 180 families waiting.

At the US Embassy, Haiti.

For paperwork.

What can you do?


Think about your’re sphere of influence. Do you know someone who could help? ASK THEM TO HELP.

Can you share their story? Link, tweet, tell.

Dear Lord- I pray for those trapped physically and by red-tape in Haiti.  I pray that you’d make a way where there seems to be no way.  I pray that you’d renew hope.  I pray that your peace and protection would be present.  Lord I pray that you’d protect children from illegal adoptions and dangerous trafficking. I pray that you’d bring wisdom and peace to chaos.  Lord- I pray that as Lily and her new mother wait- you’d hold their hands.  amen

My eyes were closed, I could hear music and the rumble of voices. I was “resting” on the couch. (Is that what you call it too?  You know, not quite asleep but not quite awake..)

Suddenly, there was crying. I hadn’t heard any suspicious “bangs” or “thumps” so I kept my eyes closed and let the daddy handle it.

“Daddy, turn the channel. Haiti makes me too sad. Those kids are starving.” Said Noah’s tender, worried, seven year old voice.

I heard the shuffle for the remote, (why is it we can NEVER find that thing?) then the music changed.

“They are showing the stories and singing to raise money to help the people in Haiti.” Said the deep, comforting and also sad voice of a daddy. I could hear him struggling to balance shielding a child from the tragedies of the world and allowing him to see the needs we can help make a difference in.

The crying continued.

“Let’s pray.” Said the daddy’s voice.

And he did. He prayed for comfort, provision, for courage for the rescuers, knowledge for the doctors and for more help to be sent.

And then when I thought the prayer was over, the little voice chimed in, in prayer:

“And dear Jesus,  please send manna, like you did so long ago. Amen”


God please send manna.

He stopped crying. He went to sleep. He simply: trusted.

His words have echoed through my heart, ever since.

I am jealous of his faith. It never crossed my mind to ask God for a miracle like that.

Is it because I have a better understanding of the situation? Is it because I so seldom see miracles that I’ve stopped asking? Is it because I’ve been so busy thinking about what I can do, that I haven’t bothered to think about/pray about, ask God about what He alone can do?

I haven’t even cried. Oh sure.. I’ve teared up, I’ve been touched. But, I haven’t wept for Haiti.  Not even for Fedna. Maybe I’m overwhelmed by the needs.  Maybe the magnitude of the hurts have numbed me out.  Maybe, I don’t need to.  Maybe, I do.

I don’t know.

But, I do know this:

  1. I want to trust, believe and hope like Noah does.
  2. I want my heart to break for the things that breaks God’s heart.
  3. I want God to send manna, and I do believe he can. Whether miraculous bread direct from the hand of God, or money and help passed through the hands of his people, all over the world.

Send manna.

Dear lord- I can’t fathom the hurt and struggles that are right now being experienced in Haiti.  I know what it’s like to lose one loved one… I can’t imagine that loss multiplied and compounded with hunger, entrapment, separation and thirst.  I don’t how how many are still trapped, and hoping for rescue, or how many are starving even now.  God I pray for those separated from loved ones and those on the ground helping. I pray that you’d send what they need.  Comfort, compassion, rescue, food, water, love.

God- I pray that you’d send manna. Oh God, send manna to Haiti. Amen.

Here are the trusted organizations I support- and trust.  They ARE manna from God, all over the world. If you’re touched by Noah’s prayer- I hope you’ll click to donate and make a difference- today.

Compassion International

World Vision-

American Red Cross-

Doctor’s Without Borders-

Samaritan’s Purse-


Fedna, the child we sponsored for yrs with @compassion . Port... on Twitpic We met years ago, at an unlikely place  by either chance, or divine intervention. (That depends on your perspective.)

Fedna stood alone, before a plain industrial wall, in a blue uniform dress gingham check blouse and tennis shoes.  She wore matching blue butterfly barrettes, and had piercing, dark chocolate brown eyes, just the color of my oldest son’s.

I stood, in a beautiful convention center. I was dressed in my classic suburbanista style.  I wore uncomfortable (but cute)shoes, dress pants I couldn’t breathe in, and a blouse I had trouble keeping closed. (I HATE boob-gap-age, just sayin!) I stood a in a ballroom full of Mothers of Preschoolers.  We’d gathered to encourage and support each other and make a difference in the world.

Sound like two different worlds?  Wondering if this is an episode of Twilight Zone or a sci-fi movie  involving parallel universes? No.  It’s not, hang with me….this really is where we met.

MOPS International has partnered with Compassion International for years.  We offer moms an opportunity to sponsor a child, asimple and tangible way for her to help make the world a better place. I was passing out Compassion International Child Sponsorship Profiles to moms who were interested in sponsoring.  When I finished,  Fedna’s profile, was left in my hand.  I couldn’t just stick her in a pile to (hopefully) be sponsored at some later date. I took her home with me, on paper and in my heart.

Soon, I started receiving amazing letters written in her childish script and translated to english by a caring helper. She told me she was praying for my family, asked questions about what kinds of things we liked and told us how glad she was to be sponsored.

I could never reply.

I didn’t know what to say. What do you say to a child struggling to eat when you spend more on your hobbies or coffee in a month, than her family makes in a year?

I hate that I didn’t write. I wish I would have.  I wonder if my letters would have meant as much to her as hers did to me?   If nothing else, she would have known that someone cared.

We did. We still do. Click to read more (more…)