A dozen reasons to love my girl and today I’m thinking about how she is one tough cookie.
What I know about her is like the proverbial tip of the iceberg. I’m sure it will take years to hear all about everything she’s been through, to learn all about the first ten years of her life when we didn’t know her.
Honestly? I don’t look forward to hearing some of it. I admit to struggling with fear over what lurks there, over what demons she may have to battle that I, so far, know nothing about. I can hope that the worst that’s happened to her is what I do know: her father died. She’s lived in abject poverty. Her mother became too ill and poor to take care of her children. She has lost contact with her older siblings, who are scattered at orphanages around Uganda.
But she still smiles. And it’s not a fake, “look at how cute I am” surface smile, but the kind that radiates through her eyes and pierces your soul with happiness.
And she still leads. She is always at the front of whatever needs to be done around the orphanage. She rallies her friends to join her in her work.
And I just found out that she consistently places within the top 10 in her class of 66 pupils. So she’s not just a tough cookie, she’s a smart one, too!
When I get discouraged, I think about her strength. When I start losing hope that we’ll ever have enough money to bring her here, I think about that sweet face bowed down in prayer, petitioning God to move mountains to grant her this dearest wish for a family. And even from thousands of miles away, her strength renews me.
I’m so thankful to serve a God who knows us all intimately. This beautiful plaque is available in our fundraising store and donations of any amount will help us bring her home.
But most of all, just please keep us all in your prayers, that we will not lose heart in this time of waiting.