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Five years ago, the guatemala city Airport became my maternity ward—and my joy was birthed out of the back seat of a parked car, wrapped in a blanket. When the daughter of my Guatemalan adoption attorney got out with my precious bundle and said, "Melissa, here's your new daughter," I peeled back the layers to spot the most beautiful baby I'd ever seen. I knew without a doubt my journey to get here had been worth it.
When I was growing up, I dreamed of getting married and having children. But when I married the man of my dreams, what started as a fairy-tale romance turned into the shocking reality of an unfaithful husband. I kept praying and hoping my marriage would heal so we could start a family. But my childhood dreams came smashing down around me. By 1990, after six years of marriage, my husband told me he didn't love me anymore, and he was gone.
Now it seemed the years I'd spent waiting to become a mom were in vain. But to my surprise, in 1998, I felt prompted by God to take a giant leap of faith and adopt a child. I began the mountains of necessary paperwork with a local adoption agency. While I had a heart for a Hispanic child, I wanted to be open to God's direction, so I prayed he would make it obvious where my child should come from. As I met with my adoption specialist, it became clear the only country that met my requirements and that was willing to allow a single woman to adopt was Guatemala. It was a God thing!
I knew the adoption would cost a few thousand dollars, but I soon learned it could cost up to $25,000—well beyond my means as the operations manager at a local Christian radio station. But I was already too involved in the process—and invested emotionally. I could either give up my dream or trust my heavenly Father to make a way. I'm so glad I didn't give up!
People helped me with financial gifts, and as a professional voice talent, I did freelance voice-over work, public speaking, and performance singing to help cover the cost. But it wasn't enough. I had to stop the process a couple times because the financial well ran dry. But it was all part of God's timing.
Finally, a little more than a year later, the sweet voice of my adoption specialist, with her thick Spanish accent, said, "Maleesa, I have a baby girl for you!" She told me photos of the child were being overnighted. The next day, pictures arrived of the most beautiful baby girl who'd been born just a few weeks earlier in Guatemala. I named her LaShay Alissa—a name I'd picked years ago—and prayed daily for my precious daughter and all the people involved in bringing her home.
The next few months felt like an eternity as the paperwork was processed. I tried so hard to be patient, but the thought of someone else caring for LaShay was difficult. I still had to make a final payment of $7,000, and had only a week to cover it before I would be given the go-ahead to fly to Guatemala and claim my daughter. Because I didn't have the money, I asked my prayer partners to join me in a marathon week of prayer.
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