Pregnant: The Adoption of Megan, Segment 8

The wind of the Holy Spirit gusted. A cloud came into view. Rain. A sign of blessing. Thick with promise, this cloud swelled, puffed, and churned out mottled shades of gray and green in a sudden downpour. I flipped my umbrella over. And, the deluge of bills filled it to capacity.

I wish.

We expected a miracle from God. Hadn’t He proved to us He was able? We certainly had no other means of generating wealth for Megan’s adoption.

Four weeks passed from the day we received Megan’s photos, then another two. Nothing transpired other than we learned our daughter’s Korean name meant silver jewel.

Silver in scripture speaks of a refiner’s fire. “You have tested us O God; you have purified us like silver.” (NLT Psalm 66:10) Silver represents God’s personal shaping of His workmanship. Did you know a silversmith must tenaciously watch His creation while it’s in the fire so he doesn’t injure and damage the silver? What love.

And what of jewels? They are a picture of God’s redeemed. By grace we are transformed. Science cannot recreate a jewel. Men have tried, but only God can take something lowly in nature from the earth and transform it into a precious gem. 

But what did this knowledge have to do with us? When Megan was two months old a letter came from Holt. 

September 11, 1986:

“Ht. 23 in. Wt.14.1 lbs. Laughs with a small voice.  Eye follows a rattle, four ways.  Actively grasps a rattle. No head lag. Some weight bearing. Prone—lifts head high, chest up. **Adoptable.”

The word adoptable seared my heart. Time passed—our daughter growing while separated from us. How could I not long to be a part of her earliest moments. Being an earthling, panic tried to rise and choke me.

God gave me a scripture to rely on. “The Lord God will help me. Therefore I will not be disgraced; therefore I have set my face like flint, and I know I will not be ashamed.” (NKJ) Isaiah 50:7 

“Set my face like flint. Set my face like flint. I will not be ashamed. I will not be ashamed.” Daily, I must have recited this a thousand times. But the weeks grew longer and longer.

October 18, 1986:

 “Three months old. Ht. 24 in. Wt. 13.7 lbs.  Laughs loudly. Brings hands to midline. Some weight bearing. Prone, lifts head high, chest up. **Adoptable.”

Full-fledged panic ensued. Wouldn’t Holt call at any moment and take Megan away from us? We schemed, but could not come up with the money. Then the most heart-wrenching scenario occurred. Three different sources promised the money. But over the course of that month, none could deliver.

Many well-meaning friends desired to help, but their hands were tied. My heart like a yo-yo on a string couldn’t take the strain. I felt near collapse, and Randy did. On Sunday morning, in the middle of church, a violent attack of inner ear struck and men from the church had to help my husband home. Stress related?  No doubt. But weren’t we threats to the enemy, as well? If Megan came to our home, she’d hear the gospel. 

November 15, 1986:

“Four months old. Ht. 25 in. Wt. 14.1 lbs. Makes vowel sounds. Babbles. Sits alone with two hands held forward. Rolls over both ways. Some weight bearing. Reaches out, grasps toy with one hand. **Adoptable.”

Those words. Adoptable. My first daughter? Stillborn. This one? Held at ransom halfway around the world. We fasted. We prayed. We begged God. And then—a knowing settled over me. Our refiner’s fire burned hotter, the silver molten. Our July 5^th jewel, an oriental ruby, teetered just out of our reach, and time had run out. 

***

Megan—Mighty One, Victorious Spirit

Come and let us walk in the light of the Lord. (Isaiah 2:5)

Hope—Faithful, Understanding Heart

Delight yourself also in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart. (Psalm 37:4)