My lovely daughters,
I didn't know if I'd ever have the privilege of addressing a letter to you in this way. When I first held your names just a little more than a year ago in the space of my mother's heart, and I experimented with the way they rolled off my tongue and into my ears, I marveled at their beauty and how if you'd have been born of my very body, we'd have gifted you with these very names.
I am honored to now know that your very hearts are every bit as beautiful and more as the sound of your names. I am beyond blessed to know that calling you daughter is every bit as beautiful and more than what I had long imagined. While you were not born of my body, you both have been born of my heart. And I never will be the same simply because you call me mom.
A court ruling will happen tonight in the wee hours of the morning here in Chicago and the late morning hours in your home city. There, your father will stand before a judge and prosecuting attorney, and he will answer their questions about our family, about you both and about how our stories intersect. He will share with them that we don't want just an intersection of our stories; but rather we want to weave the stories of our lives, the very fabric of our heart strings together in a way that cannot be separated.
While a court ruling one way or another cannot change the fact that you now occupy spaces in our hearts that are only yours to occupy, we want you to be our daughters officially and forever. And a ruling is the only way to ensure that officially and forever you are our girls, that you are legally and formally the daughters for which we have long prayed before we ever knew the beauty of your names or the beauty of the fullness of all that each of you carry in your beings.
Tonight, on the eve of the final adoption court ruling, we prayed together on your brother's bed. As your daddy sleeps half a world away, we came before God on his behalf and your behalf and all of our behalves, with all of our hopes and desires and pleas, and we each asked Him to go before us in court tomorrow.
But do you know what EJ prayed in all of his six-year-old optimistic earnestness? EJ prayed, "thank you God for your bringing daddy home safely and for the judge to say yes!"
Before he even asked God for anything, he thanked Him in an expectancy that essentially said that God is so big and God is so good that nothing is beyond Him so I will thank Him before I even bring my need.
It strikes me, his faith, and I realize that my faith has grown immeasurably because you -- all four of you -- call me mother.
And, you especially, my girls, you are faith in skin. You are daughters born to us out of the impossible and the terribly broken by a God who specializes in making the impossible possible. You are daily my living, breathing reminders that God can take the brokenness of our lives and make it very, very beautiful not just despite the broken but because of the broken.
So tonight, as we anticipate hearing word from half a world, we rest in this: that you are not only our daughters no matter a ruling, but you also are daughters of the King. Nothing in the world, no ruling, no court, can change to Whom you really belong and to Whom you will forever belong.
And, because there is always an and with God, because you are beloved daughters of a very good Father and I am as well, we can trust that God is a God who will continue making the impossible possible, that He is a God who will continue to take the broken and make it beautiful.
May we all rest well tonight in that truth.
I love you always,