How the journey began...

Dear sweet child of mine (to be);

I have no idea where you are, or who you are, but I know that God has allowed these plans to be on my heart, and he has set the wheels into action long before now.  God has the perfect plan, the perfect child for our family, the perfect situation that will mold us and shape us into the parents we need to be for you.  He is watching over you right now, preparing you to some day (hopefully soon) be a member of our family.

I pray for you so often.  I fear for you, that you are facing challenges and struggles far beyond your understanding and your comprehension.  I pray for your safety – in a land and world full of uncertainty. I pray for immense protection over your precious little heart, and mind, and soul, and body.  I pray for your real parents – for the sacrifices and losses that they have faced.  I am sure that they never wanted to be separated from you, and know that they were as anxious about leaving you, just as I am anxious about waiting so long to see you.

I have looked at 40+ websites over the past few months, trying to find an organization that I feel called or led to.  Because I know that God will ordain this whole process if this is His will, then I know that I must search for God’s will and pray for His direction.

When I was younger, and thought about adoption, I never saw you in South America or China or even India.  I knew I wanted to adopt, but never knew from where.  It was not until meeting Father Michael and beginning my work with Anawim Uganda that I felt that Uganda may in fact be the place where you might be waiting for us. 

The first time I met Father Michael Ssenfuma was, in and of itself, a bit of a tiny miracle.  He had spent most of his summer in America, and I knew from being on Pastoral Council, that he was staying in our rectory, but I somehow seemed to always miss his homilies and such.  I heard stories about his vibrant homilies, heard about his straight forward nature in the confessionals, but had not seen him.  I had even heard that he was going around and blessing homes and speaking to children and families about his country.

Father saying Mass in Masaka

Towards the end of the summer, I finally got my act together enough to have a clean house that was in need of being blessed.  I felt the urge to have it blessed after a series of bad dreams that were had by myself, my husband and two of the kids.  I tried calling and calling Father to no avail.  I knew he was leaving the next week, so I kind of gave up on the notion.

Well, one afternoon the next week, Father returned my call and said he had heard I was interested in missions, and interested in soccer and that I should come to a meeting at the rectory with him and a group of friends that night.  I almost choked.  I was super excited, and I promised to come.  Once I hung up the phone, I realized that I already had 2 other meetings to go to that night, and that something had to give.  Your father-to-be was quite surprised that I would forego a soccer meeting for a priest whom I had never met, but he promised to babysit and a friend said she would take notes for me.

When I walked in, I knew nobody.  Meeting Father for the first time was a blessing, but meeting the rest of the people that had known Father and his mission for so long, and who had already been doing his work, was fascinating.  If all of these people would speak so highly of him, and commit to doing this work, then he could not be bad.

As these people spoke of my favorite things; soccer, missions, doing God’s Will, and serving others, I became overwhelmed by emotion.  Literally a week before the meeting, I told my husband that I was very sad because I would never be able to do mission work, or perform any kind of hands-on foreign service, and that if I could not find an outlet for my overwhelming heart's desire, then I would surely go crazy.  I begged God for a chance to serve Him, and He answered through Father Michael.  That night, they made me the temporary secretary of the newly founded board of Anawim Uganda.  I was flying so high.

I imagine that my journey to you began there.