You may have heard by now that Brad and I will be boarding a plane to Africa this weekend to meet our son. After nearly three years of waiting, we were given just five days notice that it was time to travel.
You would think that I would have used these last several months to prepare – to pack, to finish J’s room, to read a few more books about adoption. Instead, I put off the packing, I didn’t buy sheets for his bed, I convinced myself that I would read on the plane. The thought of passing by a ready room and packed bags was too much to bear, not knowing when or even if we would finally be united with Jecoah.
Even today, roughly 48 hours before we’re scheduled to leave, I’m not ready. I’ve never been out of the country (Mexico doesn’t count, after all.). I don’t have the foggiest clue how or what to pack. I’m afraid I’ll eat gluten and get sick on the plane. I’m afraid that I’ve forgotten how to parent a toddler – mostly because I have forgotten.
My emotions are running high, but they’re not easily definable at the moment. A sweet friend, who has also adopted internationally, helped me understand that I’ve spent nearly all of my emotion during the years and months leading up to the days ahead. I’m nearly spent.
Last night, my undefinable emotions surfaced in a version of mild craziness and a whole lot of frustration that I haven’t seen in myself for a few years. Before Jesus claimed me I gave little or no thought to what emerged from my mouth. I represented myself and didn’t care much about what that really meant. But, I belong to Him now and my heart’s desire is that others see that in me. Thankfully, the people I offended met my apology with much grace and understanding. It was certainly a humbling experience and those are rarely enjoyable.
This morning, Ginna and Avery woke up feeling pretty puny and I decided to keep everyone home. It’s our last Friday together for a few weeks and I miss them already.
This afternoon, about sixty people will pick up their dinners from our most recent fundraising effort. My sweet friend, Connie has done so much hard work as have many other dear friends. Brad and I are so overwhelmed, so grateful, so humbled.
We cannot wait to return home with our son and discover what our new normal will be. We also can’t wait to start paying it forward. Two of our good friends are adopting, one couple from DRC and the other from Ethiopia. If you thought I would finally stop begging for money, you’re so wrong. As long as there are orphaned children waiting to come home to their families I will continue to insist that you pony up. 😉
I love you all so very much. Thank you for making this experience bearable, encouraging, even sometimes fun. I’ve never known friendship as I have during this season of my life. You’ve loved me when I’ve been downright unlovable.
I hope you’ll all meet us at the airport upon our return so that Jecoah can see all the people who loved him before they knew him. I won’t be updating here on the blog. Instead, I’ve created a private Facebook page where we’ll post pictures, videos and updates. If we’re Facebook friends, send me a message or leave a comment and let me know that you’d like to follow our journey and I’ll add you to the page. If we’re not FB friends and you’d like to follow, send me a friend request (unless you’re creepy 🙂 ).