One Year Anniversary, Part 2

I have struggled with this post for weeks. I intended to write about the change in our hearts after walking through the adoption process, after going to China and coming home, and after watching Laura blossom and grow over the past year.

Here is the thing: people expect me to say that what changed us was the sadness. The poverty, the desolation, the grief. All of those things did exist during the adoption process and of course while we were in China, and in the first year home. There are many sad stories we have seen and heard. There are many maddening and deeply tragic pieces to our story.

However, it was not the sadness that changed us. It is the joy, hope, love, and redemption that have taken hold of our hearts and forever changed who we are as a family.

What has changed me the most is the transformation of my daughter and all the children who came home with her. On October 19, 2015, I stood in a room full of expectant parents. As the children came in, they were terrified. Some cried, some fought, some retreated inside themselves and sat as statues, not moving, crying, or fighting. They all carried scars, physical and emotional, of their life so far. When Laura was handed to me, her whole body went stiff. She cried and arched her back away from me, pushing with all the might her 15 pounds would allow.

Two weeks later, we all gathered for a photo and the children...the children! They were sons and daughters. They still carried scars. Laura still refused to eat the last of anything. She carried food in her hand at all times, so afraid that it might be the last one. But, she smiled. She laughed. All the children there had already changed so much, in just two weeks. Their needs were being met and already love was changing their lives.

One year later, I delight in getting email, text, and social media updates from these travel friends. And their babies are all so beautiful! All doing well. All a part of a family. And that has made the difference for them. They have in their lives a mom and a dad who will love them no matter what. Who provide for their needs at all times. They feel safe and loved and have endless opportunities in front of them.

We look from where they came, where they are, and all the possibilities of where they might go, and we rejoice! These precious children have families, homes, and futures.

Then we look back at the little ones left behind, and we do grieve. These precious babies need families. They need homes. Many of them need medical care. But, they wait.

And, so, we come to our other big change: the constant battle in our hearts of "what are we doing here?" Obviously, the Zopp family is not going to solve the orphan crisis problem. Obviously, we "can't rescue them all", as random strangers in the produce department love to say.

But...look at our Laura. Look at how she has grown. Look at how she is loved deeply by us and at how even more deeply she is loved and cared for by God. We see her opportunity to hear the gospel of Christ and come to a saving knowledge of him. We see her opportunity to be anything she wants to be. We see her medical needs and know we can meet them. We see her limitations and know, even if she never speaks...even if sign language becomes her language...she still has so many opportunities ahead of her in her sweet life. We see that her learning to speak is more of a possibility here than it ever would have been there.

Look. Look. Look at all the children and how they have grown. Look at the spectacular love their families shower on them. Look at their futures ahead of them.

Again, we circle around to change. The change is, we will never be able to look at life in the same way again. We will never be able to make big purchases without debating: is this a need or a want. And then weighing the wants...because what good things could that money do? We will never look at the days with our children the same again. Suddenly, sitting on the floor for hours with absolutely no "me time" sounds delightful and like exactly what I should be doing with my life right now. We look at the present and cherish sweet days with our 5 little hearts that have been entrusted to us. We will never look at the future the same again. Retiring to sit on the beach will never be our plan. I look forward to the future not for rest but for new work...what will be put in front of me once my children no longer need me on the floor?

And, finally, we will never look at big families and think, "wow, they are crazy." By God's grace, this woman who was told she may never get to have children, and this man who only wanted two, now are blessed with five, and still adding.