It’s Friday! Time to link up with some ah-mazing writer friends and write, right off the tops of our collective heads, for 5 minutes on a prompt given to us by our fearless leader, Lisa-Jo Baker. Want to play along? Go here www.lisajobaker.com for all the details.
She was not at all what I expected. In fact, I couldn’t have really told you what I was expecting, just that it wasn’t this. Black hair sticking straight up like Don King’s. A mildly distressed look on her face, brows drawn together like she had been or was about to start crying. And she wasn’t even looking at the camera – she was looking off to the side, like she had been taken away from something much more desirable to pose for a stupid picture. Frankly she looked a little bit grumpy. And yet. The mere fact that she was mine did much to improve my opinion of her appearance, because as parents aren’t we supposed to think our children are beautiful? So there’s that.
And then, there was the day she was placed into my arms for the very first time. Her head had been shaved and there was a needle mark in her scalp to mark the place she’d recently had an IV. She was scrawny and underweight. She was solemn but curious. And she was adorable!
But you know what I really found beautiful? That, over time, she allowed me to comfort her. That she began to turn to us, her new parents, to meet her needs. That God could take a child in need of a family, and a family in need of a child, and knit them together. That she could fit into the notches and grooves of our family like she was born into it. That a Father above could see her and us as two parts of a puzzle and move us toward each other until we saw how well we fit together. Only God could have brought us together and that is a thing of beauty, perfectly orchestrated.