Friday, April 24, 2009

Saying No Thanks to the God of the Universe

Today I was reminded of when I responded to God in a "no thank you" sort of way. I cleverly disguised it: I heard Him wrong, He forgot how many kids we already have, Addis had had cancer, not a teenage pregnancy. So God pursued me. Thankfully. 

The first way He did it was when I was being grumpy at the library checkout. This particular library is "self checkout." That means that while I unsuccessfully place my books under a red laser that I'm not supposed to look at, the librarian stands on the other side of the desk staring at her computer. I think she has a tally on her screen of how many times per book it takes me to scan the bar code. When I had reached my limit, and then some, I tried to charm her into doing her job. "I don't think I have the touch," I said. Translation: "I will steal these books if you do not come over and help me." While she successfully scanned each book on the first try, I glanced about trying to look occupied. That's when it happened: a book called, "There is No Me Without You, One Woman's Odyssey to Rescue her Country's Children."

Because it didn't say anything about Ethiopia in the title, I picked it up. Had it said Ethiopia, I honestly think I would have left it on the shelf. There were no pictures on the front. I opened it to the pictures in the middle. Undoubtedly, Ethiopian children. Beautiful, haunting, parentless Ethiopian children. I handed it to the Scanning Librarian. "I need this one too," I said vacantly, knowing now that God had broken into my life and there was no going back. 

I read to page 23. I stopped and ordered my own copy from Amazon. I kept reading. I dreamed about orphans. I couldn't put the book down. I read paragraphs to my husband until he just sighed and put his book down. 

I hope this book is old news to many; if it's an unfamiliar title and you're interested in Ethiopia, don't even bother with the library. Just go to Amazon. Maybe buy a couple. Addis is reading my copy right now.

1 comment:

  1. oh no. now, i really want to read this. is there any adoption-repellent i can apply before reading?? i don't want to want this right now. is that honest enough?

    i think i remember going to starbucks with you when you had this book, with bookmarks in various places. if i remember correctly, it was attached to your back with duct tape like bruce willis' secret weapon in the final scenes of die hard.