Choosing to SEE - Mary Beth Chapman [44]
While Jan and I packed up our things and got the girls ready to travel, Steven and Smile worked on getting us the heck out of Dodge. They booked us on the first plane home.
Steven upgraded his ticket using frequent flyer miles, so we were all in business class together. As we settled into our nice, wide seats, we looked at each other and smiled like little kids who had just pulled off the ultimate practical joke.
Steven reclined in his seat, and Stevey Joy snuggled on his chest, covered by a warm blanket. They both went to sleep.
I stared at them. I couldn’t believe that after just one week, we were on a plane bound for home. In spite of the curveball SARS had thrown us, it was one of the few times in my life where God had actually allowed my plans to work out.
“God,” I prayed, “I don’t know what just happened, but I do know You were with us every step of the way! Thank You for continuing to walk with a Rambo woman like me who has issues with taking no for an answer. I know it can get me into trouble . . . but thank You for the gift of this crazy trip!”
I finally felt a huge wave of emotion come over me. I was exhausted. I pulled the flight blanket up to my chin and went to sleep.
Next stop, Nashville, Tennessee!
17
Fingerprints of God
I can see the tears filling your eyes
And I know where they’re coming from
They’re coming from a heart that’s broken in two
By what you don’t see
The person in the mirror
Doesn’t look like the magazine
Oh, but when I look at you it’s clear to me that . . .
I can see the fingerprints of God
When I look at you
I can see the fingerprints of God
And I know it’s true
You’re a masterpiece
That all creation quietly applauds
And you’re covered with the fingerprints of God
“Fingerprints of God”
Words and music by Steven Curtis Chapman
For the Lord sees not as man sees: man looks on the
outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.
1 Samuel 16:7 ESV
Even as we traveled home from China with a new little daughter, my mind was on my firstborn. Emily had been the catalyst for us entering the wild world of adoption, and it was amazing to think that the passionate prayers of a young girl could bring such life-altering changes. Now Emily was in high school. She’d traveled a long way since those middle school years.
It’s safe to say that no amount of money could convince Emily – or me, for that matter – to travel back in time and repeat the dark ages of middle school. Since she was our oldest, I wasn’t quite prepared for the change in her environment when we turned the corner and left the safe, happy world of elementary school. I should have remembered from my own experience. Ah, junior high – that jungle where the strong devour the weak, where hormones, cliques, and gossip rule.
In the midst of jocks, popular kids, musicians, nerds, and whatnot, Emily struggled to find her place. While many of her classmates spent their Friday evenings at the movies or the mall, our Emily was at home passionately campaigning for the expansion of our family through the miracle of adoption. Emily was mature beyond her years. It’s just how God made her. At an early age she tuned in to that which carried eternal weight and significance . . . something that just hadn’t quite come into focus for most of her peers.
As she struggled to discover a group of friends who would accept her for who she was, Emily eventually began spending most of her time with the “smart kids.” Before, academics had not been her strong point. But now she spent tons of time studying. She made high grades and her teachers recommended her for honors classes.
While these achievements were understandably exciting, Steven and I began to notice that Emily was putting a lot of her identity and worth in her academic work. Since she was like me – a performance-driven perfectionist – she wanted to do everything just right. There were times we’d have to tell her to go to bed and quit studying. We didn’t have a whole lot of friends who were telling their