09/05/2026
Fifteen years ago, before I came to Malawi, I prayed a prayer that I did not fully understand.
Lord help me to see through Your eyes.
Fifteen years later, I look into the eyes of these children and realize He has answered that prayer in ways I could never have imagined.
I see so much more than what is on the surface.
I see little hearts that have carried things no child should have to carry.
I see trust that has been broken, yet somehow a desire to trust again.
I see wounds that aren't always visible.
I see incredible resilience.
I see laughter that has survived pain.
I see potential waiting to be believed in.
I see children who don't need to be pitied—they need to know that they belong.
They need to know they are wanted.
They need to know they are loved.
And when I look at them, something in my heart aches because I wish I could gather every one of them into my arms and say,
"You are safe.
You are loved.
You are not forgotten.
You belong.”
This journey has been one of enormous faith.
There have been days when I have had no idea how things would work out. Days when the need felt bigger than anything I could possibly do. Days when I have been tired, overwhelmed, and reminded again that this was never something I could do in my own strength.
And yet God has always been there.
Not always giving me the whole road.
Just enough light for the next step.
And along this journey, God gave me one of these precious boys to call my son.
Adoption changed something in me.
Because suddenly I wasn't simply caring for a child who needed a family.
I was his family.
And through him, God began to show me something of His own heart toward us.
The wonder of adoption.
That God doesn't merely look at us with compassion from a distance.
He brings us near.
He chooses us.
He calls us His own.
He gives us a place in His family.
He doesn't say, “You can stay here as long as you prove yourself worthy.”
He says, “You are Mine.”
I think that is what these children have taught me most.
They have taught me something about the heart of God.
Every child is uniquely His creation. Every one carries something of His image. Every story matters to Him.
And even when life has written painful things across their stories, God is not finished writing.
I have had the privilege of walking beside them, but they were never mine to save.
They are His.
I am simply humbled that He allowed me to be part of their story.
To love them.
To fight for them.
To believe in them.
To build into them.
To hold them when they hurt.
To celebrate who they are becoming.
And sometimes, simply to sit beside them and remind them that they are not alone.
Fifteen years ago, I asked God to let me see through His eyes.
Now I understand that when He answered, He didn't just change what I saw.
He changed me.
He taught me that love is not always comfortable.
That faith is often taking the next step when you cannot see the whole path.
That belonging can begin to heal what abandonment has broken.
And that adoption is one of the most beautiful earthly pictures of what He has done for us.
Chosen.
Wanted.
Loved.
Brought near.
Made family.
His.
And after all these years, I still look into their eyes and whisper the same prayer:
“Jesus, let me keep seeing them the way You do.”
Because when I see them through His eyes, I don't see orphans.
I see His children.
And I am forever grateful that, for reasons far beyond what I can understand, He allowed me to walk this road with them.
Love soaking in His presence and love.
Just sat with my young ones today after church. My reflections.
♥️♥️♥️
