Ahh, Africa!

Just returned last night from my second trip to Africa. I must still be on Liberian time,(it's past noon there!)because I could not sleep past 5:30 this morning!

As I write this post, Mike is at the Emergency room with Tommmy (7). He was so excited to have me home, he bought me a Slim Jim treat at the store last night, and while trying to open it this morning, he cut his hand with the scissors. I figure it will be stitched, but it sharply brought me back to the contrast of living in America to living in Africa.

The day we got to Africa, which is a story in itself, we were loving on the FMN kids and a little 4 year old showed me a cut on her hand. It was raw, and had dirt in it already. We put neosporin and a bandaide on it, but thru the week I watched it get puffier and infected. We kept adding salve and bandaides, but it really has little hope of healing well without a big scar. I am praying the infection can be less due to the salves we applied. I hope my Tommy comes home with stitches, and I know we can get the help he needs here for that type of injury. Such a sharp contrast.

Delivering a walker for a 5 year old, and a wheelchair for a 6 year old, my mind kept racing to how different life is for my children here. A cerebral palsy child in the states will have therapy and medical care from the beginning of their lives. For these two precious African children, the help they receive must come across a large ocean, from a continent away, from concerned and giving people who feel as if it is never enough to meet the needs we so wish we could. But for Karin and Barry, it will help to change their little lives in their communities. It makes me hope to do so much more.

We fired our agency for our adoption while we were there. Sad to return again without our babies, however, we are at peace that we were able to stop the insanity and corruption that was prevelant from this american agency. What a shame. We are encouraged that we can pursue the adoption through a different angle, and we are grateful for the brilliant minds of the team that God assembled together for the time we were there. We were never alone in our struggles and emotional pain, and we have a plan for bringing the boys home in the next few weeks. We hope what we endured will put an end to the pain this agency could have caused many others had it not come out in the end.

What did I learn? I learned that my daughter Jenni has the biggest heart ever, is capable of keeping me grounded when our world was falling apart, and that she loved the African church service as much as I did! She spent a week on packaged snacks from the US and never once complained. Our airconditioning didn't work in the 95 degree heat, and our refridgerator in the place we stayed never did cool. Our lights dimmed, we lost all power, we couldn't access the internet, our water stopped working and our toilet clogged. Jenni reminded me what a blessed life we have in America each time she said, "well, it's a third world country, after all." She graciously accepted our daily changes, cried with me, laughted with me, and comforted me more than she will ever know. I love the way God has given me such lovely daughters, and thankful for her selfless ability to "vacation" with me in Africa. I will never forget our precious time together.

I learned that sending an email home and having to wait for a day for a reply made me realize how much I rely on my friendships and family connections on a day to day basis. When I would receive a letter from Ash, or Britt, it made me know of their prayers and support from across the world. We all shared in the mission to bring home our boys, and the joy and then tears were between us, even though the miles separated us from each other. Although our grief at leaving the boys behind was thick enough to choke on, our hope for a quick return turned our tears to joy and hope renewed was like a medicine to our hearts.

I learned that I will never hear a honking horn again without thinking of Africa. I learned that the most simple tasks here are darn right hard if not impossible over there. I watched sweat droplets hit a dirty cement floor in africa, as the beautiful christians in a simple church service blessed our hearts with their joy, their songs and smiles at a time when we desperately needed to hear a word from our God for the boys we had hoped to bring home. I learned that our timing is not necessarily God's timing, and it's ok to be disappointed but joyful at the same time.

I saw tears on their faces as my boys were forced into a bad situation, and smiles when they returned to the homes that have securely cared for their needs for the past year. I grew in appreciation for the foster mothers who have begun a beautiful journey of change for my boys, and their desire to change the impressions in their villages of handicapped children and their place in this world. The boys who must be discarded are accepted and loved by a foster family and have bonded well, and they will become healthier bonded children in our family because of the love they have developed there.

I met a biological mother whose eyes showed so much love and emotion for a child she knew she could not keep, and was able to ask her how she felt about giving her child to an American mother who would be responsible to let this child grown with the knowlege of just how precious his birth mom's sacrifices would improve his life. I would deeply touched by the impact of the gift she was giving to me - this precious damaged life who will soon thrive in all we can offer in health that her own village and resources never could do for him. An African mom and an American mom, working together. He got his beauty from him birthmom, and I will love and remind him of his start there. It was a treasure from God to have had the opportunity to meet her and to accept her gracious gift. She chose life for us all. I am grateful.

It was a big trip to a big continent, on a huge mission and a failed attempt to bring the babies home. But our God is bigger still, and we trust the plan to return soon. The big brown eyes in the tiny bodies of our African children draw me back as often as it takes to complete the plan. And the other children and people I meet along the way enriches my life. It is the icing on the cake to trust our minute by minute lives to a knowing God who only works for our good. I will continue to praise HIS name and fight for a people who He has placed on my heart.