It has been 18 months since I took my first step onto African soil and fell in love with a country and its people.
18 months since I first laid eyes on three beautiful children that I knew in an instant were mine. I felt it in my heart.
Most days I walk in the blessed assurance of God's unwavering love and perfect plan. But some days... it's hard.
Sometimes it feels like it's just a dream... or a wild idea.
I have visited "my" children four times since I first met them. Each time it was a direct result of their prayers for help. God answers prayers. Faithfully.
Each time I have visited them I have fallen more in love with them. Their pleas for me to bring them home are heartbreaking. They want to understand about judges and court dates and paperwork... but they don't. They just want to come home.
I know of families that have waited much longer than this... and my heart goes out to them. My prayers go up for them.
And I ask that your prayers go up for us... for our children to come home.