The Starfish

I met my friend, Heather, for coffee at The Greene at the end of May.  As we were leaving, we ran into one of her husband's cousins.  Heather introduced us and quickly told me that she had just spent a couple of weeks working in an orphanage in Haiti.  

She went on to tell us how it completely changed her life, how she wished she could take her family and go work in the orphanage forever, how everything here seemed suddenly pointless after staring that type of need in the face.  She said that after her group left, the orphanage had received twenty new children.  

She was heartbroken for those children.  She spoke of being overwhelmed by the need there. 

 I understood that feeling so very well. 

 It is one thing to know that there are approximately 147 million orphans in the world. 

 It is an entirely different thing to look some of those children in the face, feed them, love on them and know that there are millions and millions more of them. 

 Each having a story; each having a soul. 

 Overwhelmed doesn't begin to describe how one feels when seeing that sort of need. 

 I said to her, "It reminds me of the starfish story."  

She looked at me completely confused. ;) 

 Have you heard it?  It's one of my favorites!

We must not lose sight of the fact that behind those overwhelming numbers, are individual children. 

 It is heart wrenching to know that as individuals we cannot provide a home for each one; 

however, I don't want to be paralyzed by that, either. 

Fast forward a week.  We were at the beach to celebrate my in-laws anniversary.  We were waiting to be matched with our son.  I'm not going to lie, it kind of consumed me.  Knowing that he was out there somewhere and that we could receive a call at any moment seemed to be at the forefront of my mind all of the time.  As I was running on the beach (I know, me running?!, that's an entirely different story...) 

ANYWAY

as I was running, I was praying.  Praying to get that phone call soon, praying for that little boy whose face we had never seen, praying for the other children who needed homes, praying that somehow and in some way God's loud voice would boom through the clouds and let me know that He heard me, that He cared.  Well, as is usually the case, that loud voice never came.  However, after the run, I slipped off my shoes and socks, bent over to pick them up and saw it.  Right next to my shoe, in a small puddle of water was this:

Such a sweet reminder that each one of us matters to the One who matters most.

He hears us and loves us and is never overwhelmed by our great need. 

I immediately texted this picture to Heather. 

Fast forward a couple of months...some very thoughtful friends threw a 1st birthday party for our little guy.  I was so touched by the gesture and excited to someday tell Elijah that though we weren't there to celebrate with him, people who already loved him wouldn't let the day pass without celebration.  

They brought such kind and thoughtful gifts for him.  

And just look at the very first one I opened: