You may have seen this photo and wondered what this broken baby bird has to do with our family. As I step back at the two-month anniversary of Daria, Alexander and Oksana being adopted and review their progress, I believe the answer is: everything.
As the sun was sinking in the west one beautiful evening last summer, I stumbled upon this baby bird weakly hopping through our front yard. Barely taller than the grass itself, this pitiful thing was letting out a weak, mournful cry.
At the time, we were still waiting on a court date to bring home our three new children from Russia. The bird's plight tore at my heart as being similar to that of our orphans. This bird was not where it belonged--under the watchful care of a protective parent ready to sacrificially nurture life. This bird was not where it could flourish--in a home kept safe from danger until it was old enough to face the threats of life. Without a parent's watchful eye and a nest to serve as home, this bird would never be able to that for which it was created-- it would never fly.
Children were designed by their Creator to need the same things as this bird: parental care and a home. In our third adoption of older, scarred children, we've been blessed yet again to watch as the hearts and souls of this newest trio have begun to take flight in a remarkably short amount of time. They are being healed. Their lives are beginning to demonstrate the possiblity that they will grow into being able to do that for which they were created: glorify their Creator as they love Him by loving and serving people.
Last summer, our front yard held a scene of sadness. Without a miracle, the whimpering bird I came across was going to perish either through weakness or the wounds of an enemy. This winter our front yard held a scene of hope and happiness. Three children have been swooped up by the Lord and given the gifts of parental care, a home, and siblings. With time and His grace, they will soar.