I've looked into the faces of my kids at home as they long for something. My son, Caleb, looks through pages and pages of Craigslist and Ebay ads, dreaming and longing to have a new drum set or a motorbike. He talks about it with urgency, convincing me he not only wants those things, but he really, really needs them. He plans for the time he will have them. I join in conversation with him about it. They are valid desires based on gifts and characteristics God placed in him. Someday, I believe he will have those things. I look into the faces of my daughters as they watch gifted musicians at concerts and on tv. Music is deep in them and they long to use those gifts, to feel that soaring feeling of belting out beautiful notes. They talk excitedly and quickly about musicians that amaze them. They sing their songs, they mimic their sound, they dream about the possibilities for them. I understand that longing. I have the same ache within me for music.
There is a longing that surpasses what I see in my children here at home. In Ethiopia, there is a longing that is so deep and so out of reach, it's silent. It's a silence that screamed into my soul the entire week I spent in Ethiopia this last November. The eyes of the children of Kolfe Orphanage peered at me with an ache I've never seen before. They didn't articulate it, they didn't try to convince me how much they wanted it or needed it. I am certain they didn't plan for it and perhaps maybe they've even stopped dreaming about it. Regardless of their lack of active expression, their longing was starkly clear. Boy after boy approached me, watching my every move, some reaching for a hug, some standing at a distance, but all of them boring a hole into my existence with their longing eyes. They longed to be fed, they longed to be clothed, neglect and lack made for clear longing. The deepest, most painful longing of all twisted at my gut and sent tears flooding down my face. Dark, almond shaped eyes so unique to Ethiopia and so famous in beauty looked to me, aching to belong. They just wanted to belong to someone.
There are over 250 boys living at Kolfe Orphanage and they just want to belong to someone. They may have given up on hope, they may never speak of it, or even dream of it, but the longing remains deep within their gaze. It's heart wrenching to witness.
Kolfe boys have been known as "lost boys" for many years. Rarely do they find a family willing to adopt them and rarely is an agency willing to facilitate that adoption. Right now, there are a handful of them, all friends, in process of coming home. This includes our two, amazing, beautiful sons. They too, have that silent longing in their stare, but unlike most of the other boys, they have a cautious glimmer of hope in those milky brown eyes.
When my son talks of a new drum set or motorcycle, I want to fill that longing within him. I want to bless him with those things that make him Caleb. When my girls chatter about musicians that move them and how much they long to improve their musicianship, I want to find every opportunity I can to help them blossom. But when my two gorgeous, amazing sons in Ethiopia look to me, longing to belong, longing for a family, a mommy, a daddy, grandparents and community...things they can't even imagine, yet were created to have...I am driven to make that happen. Those eyes keep me awake at night, tie my stomach in knots, move me with compassion. That's the kind of compassion Jesus had...the kind He felt in His gut. It drove Him to action.
Kurt and I cannot take hold of these children and meet their deepest longing alone. We just can't. There are the rare few that have the wealth that can fund an adoption fully, but most families I know who are called to adopt hurting, needy children are of modest means. I think that's of no coincidence, because it enables the family of God to come together...those who are willing and those who are able...to partner to bring these miracle to pass. It pleases God to see that kind of shoulder to shoulder commitment to affect the least of these.
I don't know about you...but I long to see our sons go from the hopeless longing for the basic needs every child deserves...food, clothing, and family...to excited chatter about their hopes and dreams for their future. There is hope in those longings, there is life in those longings. We can't do it without help.
We are moving forward quickly with this adoption. Our oldest will age out in this year and both of them are in desperate need to come home. We are believing, in faith, that they will be home by May. We have roughly $14,000 to raise plus travel expenses. We've made a huge dent in the total cost because of so many of you and your generous hearts. We cannot thank you enough. $14,000 seems like an insurmountable mountain to climb, but we just witnessed the miracle of one family as they raised $12,000 for an emergency special needs adoption in 48 hours. God, along with His amazing children can do anything. We are asking for your help, we are asking for your voice. On this blog, you can donate to PayPal, you can mail us a check, or you can directly mail a check to our adoption agency in our name. You can also share this need with those around you, posting on your Facebook or sharing with your church. And you can certainly pray. We need God to move paperwork and government officials quickly to get our children home to a family.
No child should have to long so deeply to belong to a family. Every child deserves a family. There are 250 boys at Kolfe Orphanage who need a voice. I plan to continue to be that voice even after our sons come home. I am driven to act on their behalf. Not all of them will be adopted, but they need food and clothing and, most importantly, need to know that they belong to Jesus.
We know we are asking a great thing, but giving into the lives of orphans, the place where God's heart beats, is always a sure investment. The return will be far beyond what you can ever imagine. Thank you for praying about how you can help.
International Adoption Net Attn
Kurt and JoLynn Coleman Adoption
7500 E. Arapahoe Road Ste #250
Centennial, CO 80112
800-982-3778
All donations through IAN are tax deductible
