the birds are singing up the sun and i’m reveling in my short stint as a morning person. this trick of waking at 3:30am does wonders for allowing me to finish up photography work, drink quiet coffee, pop in here for the sort of conversation that does not involve let’s not tell kaka jokes and please don't stand on the dining table.
i’ve been fielding a number of questions, and i will try to get to them all, but the one i encounter (and appreciate) most is the simple how are you doing?
the unvarnished truth: some moments are better than others, but we are, in fact, making it.
i don’t usually post info like this on the hairy-scary internet, but i’m in stark need of your prayers, so here it is—the mister’s overseeing part of a conference in louisville and i’m single-parenting this first week home, and that’s pretty hard. we were thrilled, touch-the-sky-elated, when we zipped from court to embassy so quickly. we wanted our boy home before his fifth birthday, home before spending a full two years in orphanage care, and all that coupled with the uncertainty of visa appointments in july meant that we needed to travel asap.
but it also meant that i’d travel solo. that i’d have custody of our boy for the first week ever in a developing country on my own. that i’d miss two nights of sleep in their entirety navigating four airports and customs and baggage with a scared smallish child alone. that the mister would have to be gone again right after we got home.
little m does this thing where he clings like a starfish to some part of me and leans most of his frame into mine, which admittedly is all sorts of endearing. north of twenty minutes, though, his sweatiness and heft (he outweighs my 6 and 8 year olds) plum wear me thin, and i just want to call a time-out and have somebody, anybody, grant me a small reprieve. you there at the pretzel cart in terminal 3? please prop up my child for just a bit. i would like to visit the restroom without a person glued to my kneecap.
on the happy side, though, he has taken beautifully to my older four, and they are fantastic with him. arriving home in early july with all the littles here all day has been the best possible scenario. and truly, though i gasped for peace like a beached fish during the trip and the travel home, i was never, not for the smallest second, alone. i've a Father who went ahead of me, beside me, behind me. who gave me strength to put one foot in front of the other when i was too bleary to see straight, who prompted fellow fliers to be patient with us all along the way.
God has not, and He will not, abandon us. and this morning His company and care are every bit enough.