The Heart of a Mother

Continuously, I am thinking about our baby and my heart feels heavy for the birth mom and baby as they face extreme hardship in their Ethiopian culture. Are they without food, water, shelter? Are they hanging on by a thread? I think about these scenarios and my mind flashes back to a Ugandan memory that left a significant imprint on my heart:

Over the course of a week in Gulu, Uganda, I spent time building a relationship with a mother and her crawling-aged baby at a vocational center we were working with. During the time there, I formed a bond with the baby and his mother. I adored that mommy. She taught me about kettle cooking, African style. Her precious little baby and I shared a lot of snuggles and play. Though we had a verbal language barrier, we shared the common language of mommyhood. We could speak it with our eyes, our smiles, and through the touch of holding hands. She loved her sweet baby. Every day she walked many miles to come prepare this food, just so they had a chance.

And it was because I knew how much she loved her snuggly baby boy, that I was dumbfounded the day she handed her baby to me and said, "you - take." I looked at her with confused eyes, as again she pleaded in desperation, "please - you take - America. Please!"

My heart ached as I expressed to her that I could not take her baby with me. And my heart ached, that in a part of the world with such incredible need, desperation, disease and death, I could not help that mother, my new friend - who just wanted to save her baby.

The heart of this mother - so loving. She loved that baby so much that she would say goodbye forever, desiring to send him to a part of the world where he had a significantly increased chance for survival. How many days had she been thinking about the moment in which she would hand him to me? What pain and heart ache was she struggling with the decision to hand him over? I often think of them now, and wonder if/how they are making it.

As I translate that experience into our current scenario, in which we DO get to bring the baby home, I can't help but love the birth mother. My heart aches for her and the situation she is in.

And at the same time, I am grateful that God is a BIG God, who brings hope and promise. I am grateful for His power to transform and save lives in powerful ways. I will be praying for our baby and the birth mom - and the transformation that God offers to each of their lives. Will you join me in praying for them too?