Her.

I feel very strongly that at this moment, somewhere in Africa, is a woman carrying a child she will not get to keep.

Somewhere, there is a woman who feels the kicks, the hiccups, and the movements of a child growing, and I wonder if she already knows that she will not be the one to see her first smile or hear her say "mama" for the first time.

I wonder if, when she runs her hand over the bumps of the baby in her stomach, does she know that she will never walk hand in hand down the street with her daughter?

Is she already beginning to fear the labor pains that will come, knowing they will result only in despair and grief?

Does she know the God I know? Does she pray for a good family for her daughter? Does she have any reason to hope that her baby girl will have a future?

These are the kinds of things I've been wondering about lately. I think about Her alot. I pray for her safety and health, not just for Zoey's, but for her's as well, because it's important to me. I don't know her, and maybe I never will, but as a mother, I can imagine the heartache and pain of what she will endure to give her daughter a better life.

And I'm glad it's not me. Is that wrong?

I mean, as my eyes are being opened, probably for the first time, during this process(because it's not just a paperwork/fundraising process, but also a learning-to-be-stretched-by-God process) I am realizing just how incredibly blessed I am- to be living in the richest country in the world, to have such an abundance of stuff that I can afford to give away(or throw away) what

I don't want, to have access to high quality medical care, a clean warm bed for each member of my family, clean water at my fingertips, and as much food as I can fit in my refrigerator every two weeks.

By the grace of God, I will never have to make the choice between feeding myself and feeding my child.

But someone will.

She will hand her baby over to a stranger hoping that some foreign family will take her away to be their daughter instead of hers.

It isn't fair.

I already love Zoey.

I don't know anything about her. I don't know where she is or when we will meet her.

But I love her.

I miss her.

I can't explain it, except to say that, like a hurricane that sweeps in suddenly, this love is an act of God.

I know she is missing from our family and I want her here. But I know that God's timing is perfect and when I look back on this time of waiting and preparation, I will see a trail of His fingerprints. I will see how all the pieces of this mysterious puzzle fit together one by one both near and far, leading her all the way home.

And I will marvel.

But for now, she is where she belongs.

With Her.

Though I may never know Her name, the Lord does.

"Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you..."

Jeremiah 1:5

He loves Her dearly.

And He is orchestrating something wonderful between the two of us that I cannot fathom.