Our Boy's Ethiopian Mommy

I find myself often wondering about and praying for Samuel and Caleb's dear Ethiopian mommy...we have strong reason to believe that she truly might have a personal relationship with God and I find myself crying out to the Lord on her behalf. That God would save her soul if He has not already. Praying for the peace that passes understanding, that the joy of the Lord would be her strength, that God would be her husband and she would find rest under the shadow of His wings.

Her decision was not an easy one...in fact, I would guess it had to be the hardest decision she has ever made in her life. I can only imagine that it was similar to the way Moses' mom, Jochebed, must have felt as she prepared the basket for Moses and set him out on the water. To keep him meant certain death...to give him up was to give him life. Our boy's Ethiopian mommy was left with much the same situation. They had been in the orphanage for a year and she was faced with a choice that had to be made. Give them up or take them back again. The problem with taking her dear boys back was that she had no place to take them back to...she was without a home and without family to help. Samuel and Caleb would have spent their days, while she worked, at the dump (like other children we saw while we were there) collecting whatever scraps of food they could. And their nights? We can only imagine where they would have slept. It is a life that is lived by many in Ethiopia, but a life that leads most often to disease and death.

To give them up meant life for them...but I can't help but wonder if a little bit of her "died" that day. I cannot imagine doing what she did. My heart aches to even think about it and, as I have said before, were it not for the sovereignty of God I would struggle with guilt. She gave up her sons (and, in honor of her, we gave them the middle names Aaron and Moses) but she also gave us a picture of Someone else Who gave up His Son. I read a post on a web board, written by a 18 year old boy that sums it up so beautifully and I'll leave you with his thoughts today:

"At breakfast this morning my sister asked if she would ever see her mom again? That’s tough to explain to a seven-year-old.

Last year, I had the opportunity to travel to Ethiopia to adopt my sister and brother, Macie and Silas. It was there that I saw one of the most beautiful women alive give away one of the most valuable things she possessed. She gave us her kids.

She came to visit at the hotel so that she could give Macie and Silas her last wishes and her blessings on their lives. She told them that she loved them very, very much, and that she was sad to see them go. She told them that they would have a new family that would love them and care for them. She cried, and Macie cried, and Silas watched. At two years old I don’t think Silas really grasped the gravity of the situation. But then again, who did?

I could never imagine the pain that goes along with freely giving up your own children. Judging by the tears that she was shedding, as she tried to hold them back, I’d say it would hurt a lot. She wiped her tears away, fighting back a sob as Macie cried on her shoulder; she gently smiled at them with her tear-filled eyes and said she loved them. I’d say that this woman knows strength.

As our conversation with their mother came to a close, my parents and I naturally wanted to help this beautiful woman in some way. We were encouraged not to give money because of possible allegations of child trafficking and the like, so we were really at a loss for what to do. We asked her if she would like some food and she agreed that would be nice. So my parents and I, along with Silas, Macie and their mother, walked over to the grocery store right next to our hotel. She held Silas’ and Macie’s hand the whole way. We bought her some loaves of bread, as much as she could carry, and gave her some money for her cab ride back. We stood outside the grocery store and took some final pictures, and headed back towards the hotel.

And what I saw next I will never forget.

My parents and I awkwardly followed behind Macie, Silas and their mother as they still held hands. When they reached the corner of the hotel their mother stopped, knelt down by Macie and Silas and quietly whispered into her children’s ears, “I love you” in her native tongue. She stood up with strength and resolve in her eyes. She grabbed Macie’s hand and put it in my mother’s and said, "This is your new Mom, love her." She grabbed Silas’s hand and put it in my father’s and told him, "This is your new Dad, love him." Then she forced a smile, took her bread and walked away.

My parents and I stood there in complete shock and amazement. The gravity of her love drew us in as she walked away. That, to this day is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

Six months later it hit me, that all we gave her was a loaf of bread. It was really all we could offer, but honestly… a loaf of bread? She’s giving us the most valuable thing she can possibly give, and in exchange we gave her a loaf of bread. That is almost offensive.

But yet through the pain and the grief that she was experiencing, she was still able to show deep gratitude for our weak gift. She said thank you multiple times and was thrilled with our generosity. It’s something that I will never understand.

I once heard a story about a God that gave up his kid, his only kid. He gave him up freely for the world, and it is to this day, the most beautiful thing the world has ever seen. This kid changed the world and he changed my life. His father’s love has engulfed my thoughts and become my desire. I saw the pain of losing a child in the father’s face, and I wanted to give something back. But what do I have to give that can exchange for the loss of a son—a son freely given for all.

All I have to offer is a measly loaf of bread.

I give him my life."

Posted by Ted Kriwiel