Happy Chinese New Year!
Xīnnián kuàilè!
love
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Chinese New Year's Eve is known as Chúxì (除夕). Chu literally means "change" and xi means "Eve".

On this Eve of Change I'm reminiscing about one of the biggest changes our family has undergone in quite some time: when we adopted Ling Xu Ran (aka Emily Grace Ling Miller) on November 20, 2005.

It is hard to believe that Emily has been part of our brimming brood for just over two years now. She and her sister-cousins (the eleven other girls who came home from JiangXi Provence with Emily) have all assimilated, adjusted, and are growing, thriving with their forever families. Below is a picture of a few these girls - lost daughters of China - who have been found.

love love love love Our Emily is the third from the right love love love love l love love love love(in the pink on pink striped dress).

In honor of Chinese New Year, I'm posting two excerpts relating to Emily and the Lost Daughters of China from Girl Talk . . . God Talk: What Your Friends Can Teach You About Prayer (Harvest House Publishers).

AN EXCERPT ABOUT THE LOST DAUGHTERS OF CHINA FROM
GIRL TALK . . . GOD TALK

The other day, I heard God, loud and clear, after watching Oprah. Her show was about the ‘lost baby girls of China.’ It explained that thousands of infant girls are abandoned in railroad stations, grocery markets, and parks in China each year. It noted that this occurs partly because of China’s population regulations, and partly because of a cultural preference for sons. Thus, orphanages in China are overflowing with female babies.

I was riveted by Oprah’s coverage of this issue because my husband, Bryan, and I are in the process of adopting a little girl from China. (By the time this book is in your hands, our daughter will be in ours.) I cried all day, after seeing graphic footage of a little orphan named, Mei Ming, which actually means ‘No Name,’ who was left alone in an orphanage ‘dying room’ to pass away.

I pictured my little lacquer-haired girl needing me for a bottle or diaper change. I imagined snuggling her or feeding her a meal. I wept for my daughter, now alive in China, waiting for me. I also cried for the others who’ll be left behind when my baby comes home.

The morning after seeing the Oprah show, I felt God nudging me to spend some time reading His word. To be honest, I was a little ticked at Him, wondering what He planned on doing for all of the precious, abandoned babes of the world. So, I resisted His invitation. I got out of bed at 5:30 a.m., as I usually do. But, instead of accepting His welcome to read, I made coffee, did two loads of laundry, made some notes for this book, and lit a fire.

God’s still, soft voice kept nudging me, “Read, Sally. Just pick up my word, and start reading where you left off last.” Finally, I flopped open my Bible to Ezekiel 16. I didn’t think I had any tears left in me. Still they poured out warm and saline as I read:

“On the day you were born . . . you were not washed with water to make you clean, nor were you . . . wrapped in cloths. Rather, you were thrown out into the open field, for on the day you were born you were despised.

I passed by and saw you kicking about in your blood, and as you lay there . . . I said to you, ‘Live!’ I made you grow like a plant of the field. You grew up . . . and became the most beautiful of jewel . . . I looked at you and saw that you were old enough for love, I spread the corner of my garment over you . . . I gave you my solemn oath and entered into a covenant with you, and you became mine.”

Immediately, I realized that these were God’s sentiments toward my daughter. As I read I couldn't believe I found a word for her in Ezekiel of all places! Through this prophesy for Israel, God’s warm, friendly voice promised to take care of the China’s lost daughters, and all the abandoned babies of the World.

Though I don’t know how He’ll keep His covenant; I believe He will, in His time and ways. He’ll not fail His covenant of Love with any orphans, including me.


AN EXCERPT ABOUT CHINA'S BIRTH MOTHERS FROM

GIRL TALK . . . GOD TALK

And the tear that we shed, though in secret it rolls,
Shall long keep [her] memory green in our souls.
-Clement Clarke Moore

One of my dearest friends is a woman I’ve never met. I don’t know her name, the timbre of her voice, or her favorite foods. She may like spicy Sichuan; or perhaps she prefers Cantonese stir-fry. She may be boisterous and funny, or quiet and demure. She may be a farmer, a teacher, or a stay-at-home mom. She’s probably close to my age. But, she could be a few years older than I, or quite a bit younger.

All I definitely know about this woman is that she has lacquer hair, and almond eyes. She lives in China, and is about to give me one of the greatest gifts of my lifetime: a daughter. This faraway friend is the birthmother of a baby girl my husband and I are going to adopt from China this fall.

I’ve given my friend a name, Meiying, which means beautiful flower in Chinese. I use this name when I pray for her and the baby girl, Emily, that she carried. Lord, please carry Meiying as she carried Emily. Give her a healthy postpartum recovery, and a sweet, lasting connection to her daughter. Please be with Meiying during these tumultuous times for the family in China. Help her find grace and peace as she’s forced to make the difficult decision of placing her baby in a location where she’ll be found, placed in a welfare institution, and ultimately adopted – by us. Let Meiying know that when she cries, you cry; and that you care about her as much as she cares about Emily.

For about six months now, I’ve been preparing paperwork that was just mailed to the China Center for Adoption Affairs (CCAA) in Bejing. The collection of documents is called a dossier. It includes: a petition to adopt an orphan, our birth certificates, copies of passports, a home study, pictures of our family, etc. All of the documents are officially sealed by the Secretary of State, and the Chinese Consulate. I’d describe the process of preparing this package as a gestation of red tape: a paper pregnancy.

During my paper pregnancy, I was struck by a serendipitous occurrence. Almost every time I had to get my stack of growing papers signed, sealed, or notarized; it was usually a rainy, hazy, or misty day. Time and again, I remember cloaking the documents inside my jacket to prevent them from getting wet. Sheltering the bundle felt much like carrying a little baby. Often, I found myself tearing up as I cradled the valuable paperwork in my arms, under my heart. I imagined that Emily’s birthmother was probably crying a lot, too.

I thought about Meiying, and hoped she was receiving some comfort from her religion be it Confucianism or Buddhism. I tried to picture her in the temple praying and receiving grace. But, I didn’t know if Meiying even lived near a religious shrine, or of she participated in any kind of religious practice. I thought about my missionary friend who’s currently in China; and hoped, among the millions, that Meiying might’ve been one exposed to faith in Christ. No matter what her story, I found deep comfort in the image of God collecting Meiying’s tears in a bottle (Psalm 56:8).

Also, as I reflect on many rainy trips to the Chinese Consulate in Chicago, and to my adoption agency, I realize that Meiying and I were not the only ones crying for Emily . . . for China. God was expressing His anguish, too. His tears over lost mothers and daughters of His beloved China symbolically fell in thunderstorms and showers, mists and heavy torrents of rain. The tears were numerous, and came throughout our entire adoption process.

In January our paperwork was complete. I put it all in a grand envelope. Noticing that the weather was a predictable grey, I put on my biggest, fluffiest winter parka. Like a mother bear, I was prepared to protect the documents that would ultimately link me to my daughter.

On my way to the adoption agency, the sky darkened. I thought about Meiying. I cried tears for her along with tears of personal joy, anticipation, and fear. By the time I pulled onto the long, tree lined drive leading to our social worker’s office; it wasn’t raining. It was snowing! Soft, large, white flakes floated from heaven, consecrating the moment as holy. Some of Jesus’ famous words came to mind.

Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.
Luke 6:21

I parked my car, looked heavenward into flecks of freshly falling flakes. And, imagined the day I will meet Emily’s birth mother. I see her. She is as beautiful as an orchid, with long black hair, and a slender body. I bow to her. She bows in return. Jesus wipes tears from our eyes. Emily takes both of our hands, and we skip down a golden street, laughing.