A Blank Canvas

In just over 36 hours, I have met 24 ambassadors from all over the US who join me in leaning into an adventure of a life time with hearts wide open.  There is a sisterhood that unites us because not only do we love beautiful jewelry (what woman doesn’t), but we LOVE advocating!  Advocating for purpose and hope and dignity among women who are fighting for their families and for food and a decent wage that they rightfully earn.  Today we got to meet 13 of  them. 

I am an observer.  I have known this about myself for as long as I can remember.  In large groups, I feel completely odd and as if I don’t belong.  I find myself on the outskirts looking in waiting for an opportunity to make my way into a smaller subset.  I need to know real things.  I want to hear real stories. 

So this morning, after a quick drive across town, we got out of our bus to a small brick building, with 12 women colorfully dressed standing in the doorway greeting us with cheers.  Immediately, I felt at odds with myself.  Wanting so badly to find my place on the outside, but so desperately wanting to soak up all that was happening on the inside of this amazingly rich circle.  I smiled.  I laughed.  I hugged.  I held.  And I stepped back.  AND LOST IT!!  My eyes saw beauty in their faces and sincerity of their laughter, but my heart saw Aliyah's birth mom. 

For the vast majority of children adopted from Rwanda, in the few years that it was open, police records show absolutely no trace of any living relative.  We in all likelihood, will never know Aliyah’s birth mother.  And so I am left without a face.  I am left with a blank canvas in which to craft my own version of  Aliyah’s first moments on the earth.  Her face is in no way well defined, but if I were an artist, I do believe today would be the beginning of inspiration to my drawing. 

Strong, resilient, warm, open, hopeful!  BEAUTIFUL!  Some were older with children mostly grown.  And some were just “girls” as they call women who are not yet married. 

My eye was drawn towards GRACE.  She is young.  Maybe 20.  Petite and cute with locs in her hair.  Shy and yet full of smiles…showing a longing to be loved.  I see her.  I showed her pictures of my Grace (the name given to Aliyah at the orphanage) and we immediately bonded over her name and lots of broken English and holding hands.  Later in the morning Grace came over to me, handing me a beautiful green wooden bracelet and said, “I love you!  I love your daughter”  And my heart was hers.  She jumped right in and has taken it away.

Later this evening, over dinner, we met our “Style for Justice” team who are a group of bloggers partnering this last week with Noonday Collection and International Justice Mission raising awareness and advocating for women who have been marginalized and mistreated;  wounded in the deepest of ways and victims of the most horrible injustices.  Joining us also were our sweet Noonday Artisan and their precious families.  

In addition, there was a small group of women going through the recovery program that IJM provides to counsel them through their trauma as well as resource them with employment such as a job with Noonday Collection.  

What a beautiful partnership!

I just have a feeling I will get to know more of Grace.   Maybe.  Maybe not.

But one thing I do know.  On the canvas of my image of Aliyah’s birth mom, a stroke has been painted. Strength, beauty, dignity, hope!

Tomorrow I will return to the building that housed my sweet baby and let’s just say now, I am about to be completely ruined!!  And somehow I can not wait!