He Knows

I got a text last week that said, "Lu, I don't know if you'll like this, but I got it on a super clearance sale. If you want it, it's yours."

The accompanying picture was of a twin-sized quilt, sham, and velour rug. Pink, lavender, baby blue, polka-dots, and flowers.

I immediately replied. "YES!"

My friend Patti has known me for more than 30 years. So when she heard we were adopting an African Princess, she knew I'd want to create a girly-girl room. The colors of the quilt were the exact look I was aiming for. Since the age of our little girl is yet unknown--but will probably be between 3 and 7--I wanted to create a bedroom that would be suitable for any young girl. Soft, sweet, feminine.



The next week I was in Target. Ken was home with Jack, so I had the luxury of browsing till my heart's content, without a 2-year-old boy demanding he push the shopping cart--and subsequently crashing into all sorts of merchandise.

When I spotted lavender sheets that would match the quilt perfectly, I took a deep breath. Part of me wanted to buy them, part of me thought it was a little crazy.

We have no idea when our daughter will come home. We don't know her age. We don't know her name. We know nothing...except that we are supposed to adopt, we're in process, and we'll hopefully bring a child home in the next year. It's one thing if a friend buys something as a gift...but to buy something myself, I don't know. It felt weird.

I circled round the store, then went back to the girls' bedding aisle. I felt the soft texture of the sheets, imagined them in my girl's room, put them in the cart, and walked toward the check-out.

While I've been very excited to share about our adoption plans with friends and family, I felt a little silly buying sheets for a yet-unknown child. I thought to myself, "I sure hope the cashier doesn't want to chit-chat about these sheets."

But as luck would have it, she did.

"So, what age is the little person these sheets are for?" she probed.

I took a deep breath. "Ummm. She's seven," I said, feeling only slightly guilty about throwing out an age of which I am not sure.

I thought that would squelch her curiosity, but no. She continued. "Does she know you're buying them?"

That was an easy question. "No, actually she doesn't," I replied.

Still not satisfied, the overly friendly clerk had yet another question. "Well is she at home right now?"

Hmm. I don't have any idea where she is, lady. She might be in a straw hut with a dirt floor. She might be living on the street. She might be in an orphanage. She might be saying a final goodbye to her dying mother. She might be begging at the local market for food to fill her empty belly.

"No, she isn't home right now," I offered.

The clerk smiled widely. "Oh that's perfect! You can hurry home and put them on the bed while she's out. She will be so excited when she gets home and sees them!"

I smiled, thanked the clerk, and went on my way.

But her questions have stuck with me. How old is our daughter? Where is she? Will she be excited to see her new sheets?

    .  .  .

A few weeks ago, I was going through a box of sentimental stuff that we have in storage, and I came across an embroidery that my grandmother made. My grandma Erickson was born in 1896 (really!), so I have no idea when she made this wall hanging. And why it's been in a box all these years--I have no idea. Maybe the sentiment didn't fit with my stage of life.

Silly, because whatever stage you're in, there are questions. The future is a mystery. But not to your Heavenly Father.

I'm glad He knows our future daughter. I can't wait to meet her.