How Do They Do It?

Tonight I am sitting here wondering this: How can people hear or see or read about orphans, babies who have not been matched with adoptive parents, older children who need homes and food and love, and feel NOTHING? How can it be so easy to just say "We already have two," or "The timing isn't right," "Life is too crazy," or "That's not what we planned?" I have heard all of these phrases within the past few months, from people who quite frankly, shocked me. How do you say any of these things like they are just logical facts, make such a final statement, without emotion, without that tear that inevitably escapes if  you actually take a second to think about the future of those children? How can a person's heart be so hardened that they don't feel a tug of compassion, just a glimmer of desire to make it work, even when it doesn't make sense? How can we, who "have it all" justify NOT making a little more space in our homes and in our hearts? Does everything have to be perfect before we can love someone?

Yet, every moment, our Heavenly Father loves them all. What a blessing that He doesn't worry about the cleanliness of his family room or the emptiness of his bank account or the chaos at His dinner table. He would never say "There is no more room." He loves us all, as broken and unworthy as we are and as stupid and hardheaded as we act. I watched one of the "Mormon Messages" today, hoping for some peace. The very last line (from Thomas S. Monson) was "Don't let a problem to be solved become more important than a person to be loved."

I am no better than anyone else. My faults are many and glaring, but I can't think of many times that, upon hearing about a child who needed a family, I didn't have a quick thought of  "Could we do this?" Yet, I know people in every area of my life, some very close, who can dismiss them without a second thought. It would be so much easier if I knew how to turn it off and tune it out. I would sleep at night. I would not be tormented daily by the faces and the stories and the things I have seen with my own eyes. But I don't want to be that way. I'll take the chance and love that baby boy for just one day, even though I am told over and over that I should not. My dreams are full of brown faces and dark eyes and soft little curls. It has been this way for many years, and no matter how hard I pray for it, I suspect I will never find the peace I seek. Maybe instead of peace I need to seek more determination, more assertiveness, more ability to stand up for these little ones and shout "OPEN YOUR EYES!"