They had been a photo on our fridge, a desire we had prayed for, holders of a place in our hearts....and two years ago today, July 13, we held them in more than just our hearts. We held them in our arms.
It was awkwardly amazing and painfully beautiful. I'm not sure how else to describe it. To step off a bus and watch two little boys walk through a door to you knowing that they were your sons and you were their parents but still being complete strangers all at the same time is awkwardly beautiful. To give them hugs that were met with hesitancy, see smiles that didn't quite reach their eyes, and see eyes that held uncertainty...yet knowing that you'll be giving them hugs for the rest of their lives, see smiles that will light up their eyes and, one day, know that their eyes will, Lord willing, be filled with trust is painfully beautiful.
We took Samuel and Caleb back to the guest house that day, not as orphans, but as our sons. They knew only a couple of words in English and we knew only a couple of words in Amharic. It couldn't have seemed more impossible and God's grace couldn't have been greater! We felt the weight of the fact that we were now responsible to God for two more souls and we felt the joy of knowing that His grace would be sufficient, His mercies would continue to be new every morning, and His purposes would continue to stand to all generations, including the one we had the privilege to be a part of raising.
Our hope was in the Lord on July 13, 2009 and, because of that, it was a day that we will look back on with memories that were awkwardly amazing and painfully beautiful but, more than all that, we will look back and echo the words of David in Psalm 40:5:
"Many, O LORD my God, are the wonders you have done. The things you planned for us no one can recount to you; were I to speak and tell of them, they would be too many to declare."
It was awkwardly amazing and painfully beautiful. I'm not sure how else to describe it. To step off a bus and watch two little boys walk through a door to you knowing that they were your sons and you were their parents but still being complete strangers all at the same time is awkwardly beautiful. To give them hugs that were met with hesitancy, see smiles that didn't quite reach their eyes, and see eyes that held uncertainty...yet knowing that you'll be giving them hugs for the rest of their lives, see smiles that will light up their eyes and, one day, know that their eyes will, Lord willing, be filled with trust is painfully beautiful.
We took Samuel and Caleb back to the guest house that day, not as orphans, but as our sons. They knew only a couple of words in English and we knew only a couple of words in Amharic. It couldn't have seemed more impossible and God's grace couldn't have been greater! We felt the weight of the fact that we were now responsible to God for two more souls and we felt the joy of knowing that His grace would be sufficient, His mercies would continue to be new every morning, and His purposes would continue to stand to all generations, including the one we had the privilege to be a part of raising.
Our hope was in the Lord on July 13, 2009 and, because of that, it was a day that we will look back on with memories that were awkwardly amazing and painfully beautiful but, more than all that, we will look back and echo the words of David in Psalm 40:5:
"Many, O LORD my God, are the wonders you have done. The things you planned for us no one can recount to you; were I to speak and tell of them, they would be too many to declare."
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