Adi's Faith

Adi Leslie

It was later than I expected. I was taking Adi back to Manantial de Amor children’s home after her monthly orthodontist appointment with a gnawing sensation in my stomach. We needed to stop for some food and fast. I decided it was the right time to introduce Adi to the amazing delights of Little Ceasers pizza; a nugget of American grease right in the middle of Monterrey. We pulled into the parking lot, ordered a medium pepperoni greaser and two Sprites, and sat down at a table to devour.

As I sopped up the orange grease puddles on my slice with a napkin, Adi began to talk about her family. Adi had been living at Manantial de Amor children’s home since she was six and we were currently in the midst of planning her quince anos celebration. Living in a dorm with fifteen girls, sleeping on a bunk bed, eating every meal in a cafeteria, seeing family only on weekends, participating in group chores, group homework, group everything, had been Adi’s normal life for over nine years.

Through bites of pizza, Adi began to tell me about her younger brother who was once at the children’s home with her, but had returned to live with their folks several years ago. Circumstances were hard, but Brian was living with his biological parents while Adi remained at the children’s home. I wiped my mouth and ask the question that I weekly tell visiting group members not to ask, “Why then, are you still here?” I said hesitantly.

 

Adi laid her crust on the Styrofoam plate in front of her and looked up at me. “I don’t know,” she said. I could tell her thoughts were a mud puddle of confusion. How hard it must have been to see her brother lovingly invited back into the family, and not even an explanation given to her as to why she was not. 

“I really don’t know why I’m not living with my family,” she said. Before I could offer a consoling word or hug, Adi continued sincerely, “But I do know that God knows the reason I’m still here. He wants to work in my life through being at this children’s home. He wants to perfect me in a way that could only happen through this time at Manantial.” She nodded, “this is all part of His plan and purpose for my life.”

I stopped chewing as the tears bubbled up. “And,” Adi continued, “I even think that God has a plan to use me to help others while I am here.” She reached for another slice, matter-of-factly, and plopped it on her plate.

I knew the words Adi had just spoken had been divinely revealed. The God of grace and loving-kindness had spoken that truth to Adi’s heart. He had chosen her, given her this faith, and intimately revealed His heart to her. She missed her family, but contently submitted herself to the story her Heavenly Father was weaving for her, a much better story than one she could write on her own.

“Has not God chosen those who are poor in the eyes of the world to be rich in faith and to inherit the kingdom he promised those who love him?” James 2:5

Adi with a friend showing off a gift from their sponsor!