Despite all the healing and renewed hope that summer, more heartache loomed
on the horizon. Julian’s latest news devastated me all over again.
“Rachelle, I’m so heartbroken. The family that wanted my brother and
sister decided to just take Juan David, not Viviana. They want a child that can
do things independently, and Viviana needs too much help and attention.” It looked like Juan David and Viviana faced a
permanent separation from each other. Juan David’s soccer interests made him
fit perfectly with the prospective family’s athletic schedule. Viviana’s needs
claimed too much of their time.
No!!! This couldn’t be. How could they even think about splitting them?
Those two children loved each other dearly. I couldn’t even fathom how God could
allow this to happen after all we did to try to adopt both of them together.
“You should have seen the sadness in Viviana’s eyes when she told me.” Julian
expressed his own deep sadness when he shared the news with me. I didn’t even
want to imagine how her heart broke. Not only did she not gain a family, after
all, but now she watched that family tear her brother from her life.
“Julian, you need to love on her
more than ever. She truly needs you now.” I didn’t have words to comfort him.
How did I process this new devastation, anger, and confusion?
My heart hurt so much for my precious Viviana. At least she still had Julian.
Maybe, I reasoned, God meant to keep her and Julian together rather than her
and Juan David.
Yet my heart
ached equally for Juan David. What did this news do to him? Did it break his
heart? Did he feel guilty? Did the split anger him? Did he even still want an
adoption without her? Did he have a choice? Could he say no?
He obviously
felt happy to have a family and a future, but did his heart break to lose his
beloved little sister? I doubt they ever imagined someone might separate them
some day. I longed to talk with him, but I knew better than to hope for such a
possibility.
I woke up one
morning about a week or so later with my heart heavier than ever, aching for
those two precious children. I played such a huge part of both of their lives,
and now I ached to know if Juan David was okay. I looked up to God in tears and
asked for one thing.
“Can I please hear from Juan David again someday?” I tearfully pleaded.
I knew a
phone call would never happen. I’d never hear that boy’s voice again. I knew he
couldn’t send me a letter. But I also knew he had my e-mail address, and I wondered
if, one day, he might pull it out again and write to me. Maybe he’d write to
let me know he had a family once they completed his adoption.
I would have given anything to hear from him again. Eight months already
passed since the last time I shared a phone call with him. I knew I’d made
quite a bold request God would likely never grant me, but I also knew He held
the power to make it happen.
About a week or so later, I sat in the kitchen again with my little
pink laptop open so I could chat online with Julian.
“My brother wrote you a letter over the weekend.” Julian had no idea
the significance of what he just said.
What? Did I read that right? “Who wrote a letter?” I asked.
“Juan David wrote a letter.”
“Who did you say he wrote a letter to?”
“To you!” He replied, oblivious to the sudden, unexpected
whirlwind of emotion on my end.
My eyes filled with tears. I couldn’t believe it! I experienced one of
those transcendent moments when you can almost feel God reaching His hand down
from Heaven and touching you. He heard my cry, and He answered me. Not a soul
knew I asked God to let me hear from Juan David again.
“Your words make me want to cry, Julian.”
“I don’t understand. I didn’t say anything sad.”
“God just
used you to show me that He answered my prayer.” I proceeded to explain my
conversation with God a week earlier, believing in my heart He would not grant
my request, considering the circumstances.
Wow. What a humbling moment. God showed up at my
kitchen table that day. He sat with me and met me on an incredibly personal
level, looking me in the eye and wiping my tears away. “I’m here, my child. I
heard your cries. I saw your tears. I did not forget even one of them.”
Julian took a picture of the
letter to send to me via e-mail. They also took other pictures he wanted to
send me, including one of him and Viviana. It didn’t matter if I ever got that
letter. God gave me a gift by letting me know Juan David actually wrote to me.
God heard me.
He saw me. He showed Himself fully present with me and fully present with those
kids.
Like manna from Heaven, the simple knowledge of that letter sustained
me, meeting me right at my point of need. I don’t know how much more personal
God could have been to me in that moment, marking a huge turning point in my
faith.
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