There are so many wonderful gifts that God has blessed me with such as warm, cooked meals and the soft embraces from loved ones. I am constantly reminded of these things every time I look into the dark, brown eyes of a little Guatemalan boy with caramel skin. My brother, Caleb. 

I remember my ten-year-old self being puzzled yet thrilled when my parents told my brother and I the news that they'd be adopting a child from a different country. And I remember wanting to make his new room look perfect. I rearranged his book shelf one hundred times, at least. 

Looking back, I was very worried about the superficial things that needed to be set in place for his arrival. I remember praying in my room one night before he arrived. Lord, I know that I have been very worried about what his room is going to look like, and what people will think of him once he is here, but I pray that you show me what you want me to know and do before he comes.  

Little did I know that I would learn some of the most important lessons in my life through this adoption.  

A missionary friend once told me that Americans love to paint walls on mission trips. They come in, paint the walls, and leave. Then the next group comes in, paints the same walls, and leaves. We love to feel as if we are helping, but we don't always know how to. 

Yes, I can go to Haiti and paint the same wall every single year, but building the foundation of a house is where the true, challenging work is. It involves working in the trenches and getting your hands dirty. 

When we decided to adopt, we jumped in with no turning back.  No short term commitment, but a lifetime of work and investment. I watched my parents start parenting again with a clean slate. Seeing them raise a child has taught me to fully appreciate the effort that parents put into their kids. 

If Caleb was not adopted, he would have grown up in an orphanage. At 18, he would have been put on the streets.  Most of the street kids ended up in gangs and lived a life of crime, drugs, and poverty. 

But God had a plan for Caleb’s life far before we knew who he was. During the process of trying to get him to the United States, Guatemala was closing its doors to adoption due to the Hague Treaty. This treaty took effect a few months after Caleb was born. 

 In the fall of 2007, about 5,000 kids were trapped in the adoption process, though they had already been appointed to families in the United States. By the grace of God, our paper work got processed just 24 hours before the Hague Treaty went into effect, allowing us to take home the child whom God had planned to put into our lives. Through this miracle I learned that faith and prayer can move mountains, and that no man can shut the doors that God has opened. 

Watching Caleb adapt to American culture was very interesting.  At two, he thought the best thing about being in our family was food. In Guatemala, he often went hungry and had little solid food to eat.  At three, he discovered Legos and decided that America rocked.  At four, video games ruled. At five, he found Jesus, the greatest gift he could receive. 

God used our family to eternally impact the destiny of a child, who may have not heard the gospel otherwise. Caleb is not only a Christian, he has a gift for prayer and a love for God’s word. He is always looking out for his mom and is a very affectionate little boy. 

I never thought that I’d be calling a boy born 2,600 miles away from home my brother. I giggle sometimes when I see him sitting across from me at dinner, making us all laugh in ways that he only can. 

I am honored to spend eternity with this little Guatemalan boy that has blessed our family in so many ways. And I am forever grateful for the lessons I have learned through his adoption.