March Update

So I'm a little late. I realized I'd better get March pictures of Re and Er posted, before April's are here.

This update was tough for us. We were expecting it the week before we left for our vacation. And it didn't come. So we packed our computer, who wasn't drawing power from it's cord. We managed to get it fully charged, but would only have battery to run off of. Every day we hopped on, checked email, and got right off. Well, after we posted on facebook. And no update. Every day it was disappointing. I don't think we realize how much we hold our breath waiting to hear about them, until we can exhale as we read that they are doing okay. On friday, in the hotel lobby we had an update. And it was late for good reason. And the orphanage has changed the week we are recieving our updates. It will now be the last week of the month. I think it might have changed for March, and we just didn't get the memo.

They are soo stinkin cute. The brown eyes, the fuzzy hair, the chocolate skin, and not to mention the dimples. Oh, the dimples.





I dreamed the other night of meeting them the first time. Of holding Er, or squeezing her and hearing her laugh. Of picking up Re and him being almost too big to get off the ground. Of his hand in mine as we walked. I woke in a state of pure joy, followed by a sense of grief that was overwhelming for a moment. One of those moments when you wonder if you will drown in the pain of it. And then I got up and took a shower, brushed my teeth and anchored my feet deep in God's promises. The waves assaulted all day, but I am grounded in truth. Because when grief comes a callin, you learn to just stand in the waves and the tide eventually goes back out. And it did. And at times it feels like grief as we wait. I've been through grief, and it's very similar.





You grief the moments of childhood you are missing. You grieve tucking them in at night. You grieve the days you miss. The day they write their name the first time. The everyday moments that you are apart. And you grieve for them. Knowing that to be together, they loose everything they know. And you grieve that it can't be different. And you grieve your loss of power to do anything about it. It's a very humbling journey to walk. Not for the weak of spirit.





On a side note - my birthday is tomorrow. I'm trying to find some excitement for it. I'll let you if some turns up.

I will say this... I can't look at this picture and not smile. A huge smile. The flip-flops on the hands, the little girls grip on the one in front of her, and Re's smile. And the little boy in the background, looking like he's warning them. Because a crash does look immenient. But that is what the 'hand guards' must be for.