Ok that title might be a tad dramatic.  In the scheme of things, 18 months is not terribly long.  In fact, it’s pretty fast considering all that was accomplished.  A nonprofit started, a house found and furnished, a staff of 20 hired and trained, a program established, support gained from LA county, licensure and certification with the state, and license approval is quite a lot for a measly year and a half.

Over a month ago, we received our license.  We were beyond overjoyed.  Words cannot express our relief that the long wait with the state was over. We were ready and waiting to start taking the precious babies that we have worked so hard for.  After all, they were our sole motivator throughout this entire process.  They were worth every frustration and delay.  Nothing could stop us now.   Our intake cell phone started ringing off the hook with possible placements.  This was it!  It was time!

Suddenly another snag.  We were discouraged, stressed, and worried.  Another hold up that wasn’t our fault?  We hustled, prayed, emailed and did all we could to clear everything up.  We spent every waking hour of the last two weeks doing everything possible.  Last Wednesday, we received the most amazing news.  We were licensed AND we could start taking babies!    The relief was unexplainable.

We are so ready for 6 little loves to come to Bithiah’s.  We can’t wait to meet them, hold them, and love on them for the short time that they stay.  This is the week.  The light at the end of the tunnel.

We truly feel like Bithiah’s House is a result of a community coming together.  We have been completely overwhelmed with everyone’s generosity.  Friends and strangers have worked, donated, cleaned, prayed and walked with us every step of this journey.  We have never felt so loved and supported.  Not only are the babies going to be loved and cared for in amazing ways by our staff, they are loved and prayed for by hundreds of people who will never even meet them.  They will be wrapped in blankets sewn for them, wearing beanies knitted for them, sleeping in nurseries with art that was painted for them, eating food from a garden that was planted for them, and experiencing care and therapy from people who truly love them.

So while our eagerness and excitement occupies our mind, we are keenly aware of the tragedy and brokenness that occurred for them to come to us in the first place.  We are excited to welcome them in, yet mindful of the depth of the hurt.  We will not stop fighting for the ones that have no voice.  We would travel the world’s longest tunnel over and over if it meant that we could make a difference for just one of the many.  This week is a week like no other.