The other day in a facebook group for those who have adopted or are in the process, the topic of grants came up. I was a little surprised to learn that many, many members of the group said they'd applied to every grant listed on google, and had received none. I'll be honest and say that I had been really hoping, maybe even depending, on grant money to make this adoption happy. I was a little dismayed for a while, and worry really started to set in. How in the world were we going to pay for this adoption? Was it going to actually happen, when it came down to the wire for the funding?
After a gentle rebuke from a faithful friend reminding me that fear is not of the Lord and that, if He is bringing me to "Mila" then nothing in the world can stop that, I began to breath again. God has been faithful over and over in this adoption already! Goals have been shared and met on repeat. He keeps showing up in mighty ways! But let me share some encouragement for anyone considering the process and worried about funding: don't.
We are not rich people. Actually, I laughed as I typed that sentence, because the idea is so hilarious. Granted, we are rich when you consider the bulk of the world and those in poverty. We're rich because we have indoor plumbing and electricity and we don't worry about our next meal. But in America's mind, we are not rich. Honestly we're probably lower middle class. You know, the "Working Poor" who doesn't qualify for assistance but struggles at times to make ends meet. We have six children, who are eating 23 hours and 45 minutes out of every day, I think, and one has celiac disease, meaning our house eats a gluten free diet to avoid him becoming cross exposed and having a serious medical reaction. My 12 passenger van is 17 years old. The other day I grabbed a shirt out of my closet and later saw in my facebook "on this day" that I had worn the same shirt eight years ago. Ha! So we are not rich. Not by most standards, anyway.
But, we are determined.
As I type this, my husband is on the second half of a 16 hour shift. I have packages in the mailbox outside, because I've been selling my daughter's outgrown dresses in facebook resale groups. I have 425 hearts on my wall (still more to go, but my hand started cramping at all the cutting, lol) that I sold for $1 each in a fundraiser. I have three boxes of gently used clothing I've been gathering for a local friend selling in a consignment sale to benefit us. I annoy the snot out of everyone on my facebook friends list ON THE DAILY to help us, to see her sweet face, to see the faces of OTHER kids, too, and to get involved. We are waiting on our tax returns to file the i600-a immigration paperwork we need to be allowed to bring her into our country. Each dress I can sell or every 10 hearts means one more sheet of paper I can get apostilled for our dossier. I'm working with Walmart to do a bake sale. There are two friends who own/manage restaurants that are doing fundraisers for us.
We work our tail ends off to get it done, because when something is important to you, you find a way, not an excuse. And she is important to us. Her life is valuable, and we will do what it takes.
A friend used this analogy and it hit home for me. Pretend for a moment that your child was kidnapped and held for, let's say, $30,000 ransom. Would you walk away, sadly, shaking your head? "Well, that's impossible. I guess she's just gone now." No! You'd sell everything not nailed down and beg everyone you knew to help! You'd work as many hours as your employer allowed for overtime. You'd empty your 401K. If you'd take out a loan for a house, you'd certainly take out a loan for your child's life.
So that's where we are. If you would ask if we're CRAZY, I would laugh and tell you that absolutely, yes, we are crazy. But if you ask how we can afford it, well, this is how. Sheer determination, a Mighty and Faithful God, and a large amounts of coffee.
She's worth it. And she's not alone. There are millions more like her, waiting to be worth it to someone else. Are you ready to make the sacrifice?
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