CHOSEN

This story is one of the most delightful and personal surprises of my life.   Like any woman, I do not post my age at the local post office or publish it on Facebook.   If you are interested, my age is older than some and younger than others.   If you are a physician, you would be informing me that I needn’t worry about birth control at this point.   That’s the extent of my conversation in this delicate area.

My husband and I have been married for a good number of years.  Most people, when you are first introduced, either ask “what do you do for a living,” or “do you have any children?”

With my personality, I’m tempted to respond to the first inquiry by responding, “I do lots of things while I’m living, and most of them don’t bring in an income.”    And in response to the second question, I sometimes feel an emotional tear that’s anxious to express itself.

No, we don’t have any children of our own, but we do have lots of other peoples’ children.   Often people will break into a laugh, and then it’s as if they don’t know how to continue the conversation.   I suppose most people assume that everyone has a children….but that is not always true.

I like the terms God produced in my heart.     Every life is different and holds a different plan.   Some have the “gift of singleness.”  Some have the gift of marriage and children.”   Some have the “gift of loving other peoples’ children.”   Whatever the plan, it’s orchestrated for God’s purposes and building His family here on earth…..for our eternal life with Him.

One day I was prompted to attend a Bible Study.   I had never been to this study before, so everyone was new to me.  When I entered the room, women were gathering around and sitting at various tables.    I noticed a woman in a wheelchair who was sitting alone.   That’s the table I chose to sit at.  Ever-so-slowly other women began to move to our table.   

After all the chairs were taken, I observed that, except for this woman in the wheelchair and myself, all the other women were Asian.   I love Asian women!

There was one particular young Chinese gal to whom I was inescapably drawn to.   She seemed quiet and gentle.    After our time together, we all left the room and went to our individual homes.   The following week she appeared again at the table I was sitting at.   There was just a spark in my heart for her.   I smiled at her whenever I had the opportunity.  She had shared that she felt her attempt at the English language wasn’t sufficient to be understood and she felt awkward sometimes.   In my eyes, she was delightful and I had no problem at all understanding her pronunciation of the English language. 

This eye surveillance of this sweet gal just grew in intensity.  About the third week, I made the plunge and asked her if she would enjoy coming to my home for a latte one morning.   To my delight, she accepted.  We chose a date later that week.

I was a little nervous in having her over and I can sometimes struggle for conversation.   But beyond my apprehension was my desire to get to know this sweetheart of a gal.

She had short hair, tastefully designed around her face; and she had the most beautiful dark brown eyes that just seemed to sparkle when she spoke.

The morning arrived!   I had the latte machine all warmed up and ready for its next brew of a latte for my new Chinese friend-to-be.   I greeted her with open arms at the front door, and it seemed that we both relaxed immediately while greeting each other.   

The expresso machine was my first attempt at “entertainment”  of my guest.  Soon we both ventured to our little living room, a cozy setting with the lights on and ready to host this new relationship.

I can’t remember what all we talked about, but somewhere in the morning’s venue, I asked if she was nervous at being invited to my home.   She took no time in her response.   “Yes!”   You see, it was her first time ever to be invited to a Westerner’s home.

I shared my thoughts about meeting her for the first time at this Bible study and how drawn I was to her.   I couldn’t encourage her more in her exceptional grasp of the English language.   We talked non-stop for about two hours.   It was time for her to return to her routine at home, but it wouldn’t be the last time in my home…..or in my heart.

Before long, my new friend invited me to her place.  It seemed our friendship just took off….to wonderful places.

She, along with her daughter, had moved to Canada from China.  Her husband’s employment in China prevented his continued life with his family for a few years.  As you can only imagine, the impact of being in a new country and strange and foreign culture was huge.   She was encouraged to learn English while growing up in China, but depending on comprehending another language in this new culture became a tremendous adjustment.   She and I chatted about all these changes and adjustments on a regular basis.    I too had moved a few times to a different country and culture.   I understood, in many personal ways, the pain of homesickness, insecurity, and a sense of belonging, new doctors, dentist, shopping and the process of making friendships.   It was quite an emotional time in her life and I so wanted to both identify with her and encourage her in this continued process.

Months after our friendship was established, she and her daughter flew back to China to visit her husband and parents.  It was then that she realized God had provided her a friend in Canada that would miss her and long for her return….my husband and I.

Here’s where the “delightful surprise” began to emerge.  A short time after her return, she shared with me that for the first time she felt as though she had family that missed her presence when she left for her trip overseas.

To my delight and surprise, she opened up to me about what she was feeling in her heart toward my husband and me.   She then asked if I would become her Canadian Mom!  Usually in adoption settings, it’s the parents who choose a child.  This creative adoption was in reverse, she chose us.   I was so thrilled and felt so honored that she wanted to adopt us.  

From that day forth, she never called me by my first name, but referred to me as “Mom.”   I melt inside each time she uses the term Mom when talking with me.   I never in my wildest imagination thought that God would have prepared this unique type of adoption for me; but I couldn’t be more pleased.

For those of you that are a Mom or a Dad to someone, never forget the tenderness in the heart of someone who addresses you with that beautiful reference of love and relationship.