"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11

Sunday, October 3, 2010


I promised a few funny conversation posts and those will be coming, not everything is tragic around here... and sheesh with this group there is plenty of opportunity for funny but not tonight.

This morning in church we spent time praying for our dear friends the Croffs, who will be leaving for China in a few days.  They plan to go to orphanages and be with the children... They talked of what an "emotional" journey it will be and I was instantly transported back to my emotional journey to China.  Even now there are no words...

Our house is filled with noise and laughter... sounds that some days make my head feel like it will explode... and the ring leader of the noise is my not so quiet Molly Shen.  She begins FULL conversation the moment that her eyes flutter open.  She talks WHILE brushing her teeth, while chewing her food and usually falls asleep in the middle of a sentence... she even talks during the night in her sleep.   Sometimes it is all I can do to not cover my ears and scream.  It drives her siblings wonky...  but it is music to my ears and it makes me smile.  It hasn't always been so.

Molly was handed to me at 18 months and she didn't make a sound.  She didn't cry, she didnt coo, talk or scream. She was silent.  When we went to visit her orphanage we entered a large concrete building that housed about 200 babies and infants.  And the silence will forever haunt me.  There was no crying.  There was no laughing.  There were no baby sounds at all.  The absence of sound still chills my soul. 

Molly remembers the silence.  She has pictures that we took that day, of her bed, of her room... She says she used to cry when she was a baby so that someone would hold her or talk to her... she specifically says she cried and cried for someone to "rock rock and tell her hush it is all ok",  she cried and noone came.  No mommy came. She says she cried until she stopped.  I ask her why she stopped and she looks at me and shrugs and says "why cry?"  Silence still haunts her...

The silence will always haunt me, but it is now a reminder of how far we have come... and it makes me smile (and groan) when I hear that blood curdling, high pitched, shrill voice of hers come barreling down the hallway.  The silence will always haunt us, but there is no silence here.

1 comment:

Kris said...

Well, that is about as good an advocacy about why to adopt as I have ever read.

May every child have someone come for them.