Pray for Ismael

Saying Goodbye

He was a week and a half old...

This is Ismael. Ismael was born at the Village of Hope in Morocco while I was there in 2005. He was conceived by his unwed mother during a rape. She is an illegitimate woman, as low as you can go in an Arab world. Her first child, a baby girl, was sold. The two babies share a father, oddly enough, and he is the one who sold her. No one knew she was pregnant. She left her village under the guise of visiting family. She stayed at the Village for a month before she delivered. I lived with her and a French girl named Sofie. I cannot describe the unbelievable language barrier we had between us for those weeks we occupied the same space! Still, we loved each other. Although it wasn't much of a surprise, it was a tremendous honor when she asked Sofie and me to name her little boy. Ismael means "God listens." I have to remind myself that that is the reason we picked his name. I was so sure in those first few months of his life that God was not listening.

She came to the orphanage for her own safety and for that of her precious cargo. She wanted him to have more than she did. The Village takes babies and puts them in families. There are three families at The Village. When Ismael was born two of the families had eight children (their max) and one had three (my little darlings) but no parents. The couple, who had committed to living in Morocco with the soul purpose of raising eight orphans to adulthood in a Christ centered home, left. I can't judge them. It is a huge task, I couldn't do it. But their departure is the source of my heart ache. When I visited, the three little ones (ages 2-5) were being taken care of by two women, one from Canada and one from England. They stayed for years until a couple was found who would take their place. There is a family in that house now, praise God, but back then...

It was decided that the two of them should not take on an infant before parents were found. I discussed taking Ismael home with me with the leaders at the Village, but not being Muslim made it impossible for me to adopt him legally. My sweet little Ismael stayed in the care of Sofie and an English woman who showed up mere days before I left until he was almost a month old. After Sofie left he was sent to a private orphanage in a nearby village. This orphanage has ties with the Village, but for some reason my contacts lost track of Ismael. Today is his birthday. He is four years old. I can keep track of how big he is (generally speaking) because he is only four days younger than my sweet little Kera! She is in preschool now. She has a personality three times bigger than her little frame and loves to color. I know they are not alike, but I wonder how Ismael is. I wonder if he is learning to write. I wonder if he feels loved and safe, but most of all I wonder if he has heard the truth about Jesus. He was born in The Village, a strong hold of Jesus in a vast dessert of lies. That has to mean something. It has to have some effect on his future. I prayed over his tiny body so hard those twelve days I had with him. But now, as I sit here carrying my own little boy, waiting to hold him in my arms, praying that he will know Jesus soon I cannot help feeling like God did not listen four years ago. He was there, in a little bastion of God's people and now... Only God knows.

But, we named him Ismael for a reason. God will listen. So, please, ask Him to protect this little boy. Ask Him to draw him, somehow to Himself.