I didn't go to church focused on her today.
But I've been praying lately that God would break my heart for what breaks His.
And as we sang the bridge of Hillsong United's You'll Come, during worship this morning, that's exactly what happened.
Chains be broken
Lives be healed
Eyes be opened
Christ is revealed
Singing those words, specifically lives be healed, caused the floodgates to open and I stood and wept.
Just before the service began this morning, one of my sweet friends was asking about how DQ was doing following her surgery on Friday. I answered as truthfully as I could. "She's doing great. You'd never guess she'd been under just 48 hours ago."
In fact, within a few hours of her being home on Friday, aside from the obvious patch over her eye, she was back to her spunky little self. And while the damage that had been done to her eye in the three years before she came home has caused some permanent damage to her optic nerve, Friday's surgery put an end to that. Her eye is healing now.
Even further than just her eye, so much of her earthly life is healing.
But it wasn't DQ that I wept for this morning. Don't get me wrong I could (and have before) wept out of joy and relief for her. Today though, my tears were for a little girl who is, in so many ways, like my own precious daughter.
Both girls have a port wine stain (estimated to affect about 0.1% of the population) that covers large portions of their bodies. And both have portions of their faces affected with the stain.
Both girls have glaucoma in their right eyes.
And both girls have (had) a very scary label associated with their adoption dossiers. Sturge Weber Syndrome. (type II)
But that is where the similarities end.
Because my baby girl is home with a family that loves her to the moon and back. She's receiving the medical care she needs. She's got a sister, two brothers, parents, grandparents, aunts/uncles, cousins and friends who adore her and will be here if/when she needs support. She's got a family who looked past the label.
But Mariah (the Western name advocates assigned her)? Right now she doesn't.
She's waiting for her family in an orphanage.
I've known about her for a little while. And I tried to advocate for her. I even got to speak with someone on the phone about living with port wine stains, glaucoma and Sturge Weber. But there were some unanswered questions in Mariah's file. A few things that if the answers were known may make a difference for any other family.
So I contacted Ladybugs 'N Love and requested an update. Just when I was giving up hope of the orphanage answering my questions, I got an email from the update service.
Were my questions answered?
Every one. And the answers offered encouragement.
(And I took those answers to experts in opthalmology and neurology with more questions and got encouraging answers from them as well).
On top of that? I received new pictures of her. And video.
Which means that right now I have priceless information about a precious little girl. I know how much she weighs, how tall she is, how many teeth she has, her first words, what scares her, what provides her comfort. I've seen her walk, and I've heard her voice...
Information that should belong to her forever mommy. I just can't find her.
Until her mother is found, my heart continues to break.
Today I wept for Mariah. And I pray that her family will find her soon.
More than ever this morning I realized how true David Platt's words (from his book Radical) are.
[We learned that orphans are easier to ignore before you know their names. They are easier to ignore before you see their faces. It is easier to pretend they’re not real before you hold them in your arms. But once you do, everything changes ]
I may not have met Mariah face to face, but I know her name, I've seen her face, and I've met one much like her.
Everything has changed. Today I felt prompted to share about Mariah here.
Will you join me in praying this one's wait for a family will soon end?
And if you know anyone looking for an older toddler girl to add to their family, would you send them here?