I am home. It's been strange.
People will walk up and congratulate me and ask where the kids are.
They aren't here. I left them in Ethiopia without a choice or a say in the matter. They are now our legal children, Moses Paul Roepnack and Miriam Paul Roepnack, but we must wait for a US Embassy appointment in a few months to fly out and pick them up.
In the meantime, we got a few new pics from some wonderful traveling parents. Buried within one of the albums, we found a video of our girl, taking her first unassisted steps. As soon as it cued up, I began cheering her on... yelling into the computer, clapping, screaming...
Not long after, Paul took the girls upstairs, and I began my nightly chores.
Suddenly, my knees buckled, I hit the floor, and I had my first BIG cry. The open-mouthed, punched in the stomach, heart in your throat, can't even breath, big ugly cry.
I thought of my how she can't hear me cheering for her.
I thought of the day I walked away and left them behind.
I thought of all these lost days.
I thought of the picture I recieved a week after I got home, of my sweet girl sitting alone on a concrete floor in a Bumbo chair (she hates sitting in Bumbo chairs) and still wearing the pajamas I brought for our slumber parties, and my insides scream for Mercy.
I thought of Laura.
When Jesus was struggling for breath on the cross, he was arranging for his own mother's care. It was one of the last things he did before he died under the weight of our sins. He gave Mary to John, the "disciple that he loved". And she lived with John from that day forward.
I know people want to know what it's like to be in this limbo...
...To be in the waiting room.
They ask all the time; prospective adoptive parents, adoption blog-stalkers, ambulance chasers....And in the questions, I can feel them weighing it out against their own abilities...
They know adoption is hard...but HOW HARD is it?
He gives you the kind of faith you need to leave your two babies behind in an orphanage and fly home without them, even though after only 11 days, you love those children as much as you love the children you labored and bled for. It's unthinkable.
He creates even more joy in your life than you ever thought possible. You get to watch Him create beauty from ashes within your own soul without any help from you.
More like His. You get to undergo Heavenly heart surgery at the Hands of the Master Craftsman.
And when that heart breaks all over again, and you find yourself lying on the floor with a dishrag in your hand, He fixes it. He makes it better.
He gives you your lost days BACK.
Thank you for our Boy.
He guides my eyes up to the picture of my children's Nannies that I hung over my sink only moments before...