Last Thursday morning we did a repeat of the previous three, showers, getting dressed, getting the kids dressed, going to breakfast, solving the current biggest sibling fight (who gets to sit next to Darcy while we eat), and still making it downstairs to meet Savor with time to spare. We were off to the silk museum where I'm sure we disappointed our host by only buying a few throw pillows for the couch even though we took our sweet time browsing the clothing sections.
And then we went to view Darcy's finding spot. Part of me didn't want to photograph my little girl there in a place where her life changed so drastically (for the first time) nearly three years ago, but part of me was compelled to do it. And as I looked through the lens of my camera and saw how tiny, innocent, and vulnerable she looked my heart broke for her yet again.
Because how much smaller was she that day? Was she cold that morning? How long did she cry before she was noticed? And what about the person who left her there? Do they still wonder what became of that sweet baby? What led to my precious girl becoming "a foundling?"
It hurts to use that word, as it sounds so negative, so callous. But it is a part of Darcy's story. As it is a part of Kylie and Caleb's and thousands of other children across the globe as well. I suppose that this side of heaven I'll never fully know the set of circumstances that brought my children to be in the care of local orphanages.
The good news is that their stories don't end there. "Foundling" never defined them, it just described them for a time. Now words like, "treasured daughter," "beloved son," "cherished niece," "esteemed nephew," "dear grand-daughter," "adored grandson," "admired big sister," "prized middle brother," and "precious little sister" are words that describe my children. They are now part of a family, a family who loves them "to the moon and back."
And folks, did you know that the primary definition of family (according to Miriam Webster online) DOES NOT use the qualifier of common ancestry? It doesn't. The first definition of family is: "a group of individuals living under one roof and usually under one head" I rather like that!
So today as we come home, we will celebrate. We will rejoice that God called ~ and just as important that we followed the call ~ us into this journey for a third time. We cherish the resilience of our beautiful, brilliant (the orphanage staff named her such) girl. And we will celebrate that she is forever a part of our family. A family that God pieced together in His handiwork. And it doesn't get much better than that.