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She Comes When I Call Her "B"

She answers to "B."

It's not her name. It's not really a nickname. It's not a code name or term of endearment. 

It's a letter. A simple, single letter.

But she comes when I shout it.
But others know the person I'm referring to when I describe her.
But the world has known and prayed for a little girl that they knew only by the letter "B."

The foster system places a security around children in the system. One of those securities is the inability of individuals such as foster parents, foster siblings, or friends to use the child's name.

For a couple years it was easy to avoid using their names. A simple, "my two year old foster sister," did the trick if I was sharing a cute quote from her on Facebook.

But then things got crazy. Relationships started getting hairy, and the system moved her to another home. 

All of a sudden, she needed prayer and a lot of it.

My dad started using the first letter of her name to simplify paragraph long pleas for prayers. The letter "B" was shorter, easy to remember, simpler to read. The letter "B" soon identified her on our social networks, and by the time the ten month long agony was over and God brought B back home, some of us and already started calling her "B" in real life. 

Calling her B didn't come out of fun or joking. "B" came out of need, a desperate need for prayers. She was struggling, hurting, and needing a miracle. Family, friends, and missionaries around the world desired to pray for this little girl, but the most personal they could get was call her by only the first letter of her name. 

This security wall established for the kids protects the children for potential harm, but with B's case, it may have seemed to be a barrier from people who wanted to beg God for a miracle on her behalf. 

It didn't matter what we called her. 

God knew her name.

God knew what she needed.

God worked a miracle exactly when he wanted to. 

I call her "B" often. This unfortunate shortening of her name is the result of a desperate time in her life. It may seem impersonal or insensitive, but every time I call her "B" from across the house, it's a reminder.  It reminds of the time I was desperate for God, and it reminds me that God did intervene because she's in my house, running to me, and gives me hugs and kisses. 

B is technically still only my foster sister, but I pray that God works another miracle to make her and her brothers my forever family. 

B isn't just a name, it's a constant reminder that my God is big.

~ Alyson 


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