The long trip home

After our final visit with K on Friday morning, we prepared to leave town and headed back to the capitol via a car and driver in the afternoon. Over the course of the week the snow had melted - the white, foggy mountains we'd passed on our way up north had a much different look in the warm afternoon sunlight on our way back down the countryside. We even saw some fast rushing streams from all the melting snow.

As I write this, we are nearing the end of our long flight from Paris to Atlanta, and we've had plenty of time to think, review trip photos, and talk (not to mention watch The Little Mermaid, Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs 2, and Tangled!). It seems fitting to draw a parallel between the change we noted in the mountains and the change we observed in our future daughter this week. She began the week withdrawn, self-protective, and quite cold and icy, but by week's end we were grateful for the glimpse of spring: ice melting and giving way to smiles, security and peace in our presence. Of course it was difficult to watch her disappear down the hallway after the last visit, but we said goodbye with hope and prayers because we know that the next time we walk into that orphanage, we will be bringing her out with us and she will never go back in there again.

We're grateful for all of the photos and videos we took, and the progress they document is nothing short of amazing. But some are also painful to view. A challenge I didn't expect going in was the pain of rejection. Bear with me if this makes no sense, because of course K has been an orphan her entire life and was wise to be cautious with us at first. But it was very strange for me, as a passionate mom to our three precious little children who have always trusted, known and wanted me, to feel the sting of her not wanting to be close to me. Mason may be better suited to understand this since 3 times he endured those special months when our babies would cry, scream and fuss because they desperately wanted their Momma. I loved it, deep down. I loved being needed by those sweet little babes, even during the times that I just wanted to take a shower! And right now I am doing all I can not to jump out of my skin for the next handful of hours before I can squeeze them all again... So, watching a couple of videos that Mason took of me and K together on the first day, it hurt me to see how she would tentatively come in for a hug, then change her mind and pull away, or abruptly pull her hands out of mine. It is honestly disturbing to me, because this momma is not comfortable with rejection! 

But as my finger hovers over the delete button, I realize that 1) adoption has nothing to do with being comfortable and 2) these moments are K's history in the making. One day, LORD willing, she is going to be a well-adjusted member of our family who has learned to give and receive love, and if not for this footage we will never remember a time when she was anything else. I didn't take videos of the times K tried to get away from Mason, but she did. She wouldn't come near him initially, and it wasn't until she realized he had food and water for her that she cautiously approached him. He may not have struggled at all with that feeling of rejection; he said he knew it was going to happen and he seemed prepared for it. (I offered him to be a guest blogger, and maybe he will take me up on that sometime!) I, however, was not properly prepared for how this would feel. But on the flight I heard God's voice reminding me that He patiently endures the rejection of His own children. He is constantly reaching out to draw us close and walk with us, but too often we recoil or run away. That doesn't stop Him from continuing His pursuit of us. With kindness and patience He reaches down in love, waiting for us to come around and enter into a closer relationship with Him. I love this. I know that my passionate heart for my children is a reflection of His heart for all people, and I think He is going to teach me things I do not yet know about unconditional love. Like how to love my daughter when she tries to run away (other adoptive mom blogs have already warned me that this is likely to happen once we're home together), or out of fear rejects my touch, or out of learned self-reliance turns away from my comfort. These things are bound to happen when parenting a child from a hard place with a history of hurt. I pray that God will open my eyes to His boundless love for all people and help me to love all 4 of our children unconditionally.

Next time we make this transatlantic flight home, we will have our new daughter with us. Until then we will be putting the finishing touches on our hearts and our home so we will be ready for her!