Eight years ago I had no idea what marvelous things God can do through prayer. My family consisted of six members: Mom, Dad, my three brothers, and of course me. My Dad was a preacher, and my Mom stayed home and schooled us. Although there were only six of us, we lived in a huge white house which was around century old. It was connected to the church building where my Dad preached. It was here that I rested in the safety of friends and family. As a result, hardship was a foreign concept to me.
One would think I was a happy child. After all, I had everything I needed. For the most part, I was content; but there was something I longed for. In fact, I would often pray for it when I was tucked into bed each night. I would say, “Dear God, please give me a little sister.” It was not like I was lacking in friends or siblings. In fact, my brothers would play dolls with me. I just wanted a little sister.
It may have seemed like quite a coincidence when my parents started taking foster care classes saying they wanted to take in a little girl. Even more surprisingly, as they learned more about the kids in foster care, they decided we might even take in a sibling group. As a result, when we got a call in May of 2006, the number of children in our house almost doubled. We took in a sibling group of three. I remember going to my aunt's house to wait for Mom and Dad to return with my new siblings. Dad finally came to take us home to meet them. I was excited. When I climbed out of the van, one of the first things I remember seeing was Troy zooming past on Ryan's bike. From the first time I saw him he was full of energy. I do not remember what Michael, who was the quietest and orneriest of the three, was doing, but I remember Amber. She ran and hid behind a tree. I am not sure whether she was shy or scared, but her blue eyes, blond hair, and adorable smile could have captured anybody's heart. She was my little sister.
|Me and my sister (May 2006)|
Now, life seems to have returned to normal. Dad works the same job. Our church has a new building, and the old one is my grandparent's apartment. Mom faithfully continues to teach us, and all seven of us siblings act like typical brothers and sisters. We still have our little quarrels here and there, but for the most part there is fun, laughter, and most of all love. Life continues on as though it has always been this way. Sometimes it rushes by so fast that I forget to thank God for the many blessings He has showered upon us, but there is something I will never forget: prayer is a powerful tool, even in the hands of a child.