Today

I am an emotional wreck today.  Not necessarily in a bad way, but more of a reflective sappy way.

• My little brother broke up with his girlfriend and he's a mess.  I hate that I don't know what to do for him. 
•  Andris' birthday is in a few days and I miss him so much. He is coming home to his new family in a few short weeks.  
• I just looked through some wedding pictures of a classmate of Holly's.  Makes me crazy to even think about Holly growing up like that.
• I'm sitting here now trying to write a letter to my dad for his 60th birthday scrapbook.  Thinking back over the last 30 years with my dad is amazing.  He is the best man I know.
• And of course, it's Mercy's due date.  I'm not even sure what to do with that right now.

All of these things together, added to the stress I'm feeling about trying to get Sabine's student visa paperwork finished before the deadline, has me tearing up at the drop of a hat.  I think it's a good thing though.  A few years ago, nothing would have gotten to me like this.  God has softened my heart to be able to feel emotions, understand and care about the needs of others, and be extremely grateful for everything in my life.

It's almost time

May is here.  This was supposed to be Mercy's birth month.  We're getting closer to the day that I'm trying not to think about, but dreading just the same.  Mercy's due date.  How do I even begin to mourn the loss of significance this day now has.  Instead of welcoming a new baby, we will be...well, I have no idea.  Nothing special.  We will go about our normal lives and no one will even know about the excruciating pain I am feeling.

I am also dreading the coming of the end of May because that is when Andris will turn 16.  Just a few days after Mercy's due date, on May 29th, Andris will become unadoptable.  His new family finished their paperwork in record time and they are just waiting for a referral.  If that referral comes before Andris turns 16, then his age won't be an issue.  If not, then Andris will be sent from his orphanage to live in a transitional home.  If they do not receive a referral in the next 28 days, he will not be coming home.

This thought terrifies me.  The more I learn about orphans in Eastern Europe, the more I realize how bleak their futures are and how terrible their lives.  I have rested in the thought that because of Mercy's death, Andris was being saved from this existence.  If he does not get to come home, then what was the purpose of losing Mercy?  I can't believe that God would open doors, arrange meetings, and disable vehicles just to result in running out of time.  I have to trust that God has his perfect timing and loves Andris just as much as I do.  

Trusting

I think this is the new theme of my life. I am a planner and lately nothing has been going according to plan - at least not MY plan. If you remember, we were raising money to host Vilnis and Natalija. God had other plans. We were planning to take Andris to PA for Christmas. God knew that we needed to be at a Christmas Eve service in Denver, NC so that Andris could shake the hand of Scott Beierwalts. I love Andris and want him to be my son forever, but God has provided another family to adopt him.

While I have no doubt that it is the will of God for Scott and Katie Beirwalts to welcome Andris into their family as their son, that realization doesn't make the pain any less. I watched a scared and quiet boy begin to accept love. A boy who would hoard his belongings on the top of his dresser and stand guarded when anyone walked near, began to place his favorite yellow blanket on the arm of the couch and his toothbrush in the bathroom with the rest of the familys'. He began to trust. Finally, he began to love. He became a part of our family, and now he is gone. I put a huge part of my heart on a plane to Latvia and it is not God's plan for me to be the one to bring it back.

Not many people understand the extent of my sadness. After all, Andris was only here with us for 4 weeks, and we did accomplish what we set out to accomplish. It's time to celebrate, right? It feels a lot like when those people who have never had a miscarriage try to make you feel better by saying that God probably knew there was something wrong with the baby. Or, they make light of your pain by pointing out that at least the miscarriage happened early on in the pregnancy - like you love your baby any less just because she was younger. I love Andris like he is my own son. I am thrilled about the family that will be adopting him - I couldn't have hand picked better people for him. I am in awe at the way God orchestrated every detail of his visit here, and continues to work miracles in the adoption process. Still, in spite of everything my head knows, my heart is still aching. My couch is painfully empty. Our lives are forever changed.