October 11 is exactly three weeks from today.
The date that's been at the back of my mind for three long months will be here in 21 days.
I wish that sounded soon.
I feel like I'm in one of those dreams where you try so hard to do something (run, wake up, stop falling) and you just can't. Somehow, no matter how many days I wait, October 11 never seems to get any closer. I swear there's a crazy wrinkle in the space-time continuum that's swallowed October 11. (Yes, I am a total 80's child who has watched Back to the Future more times than I can count.)
In all seriousness, this waiting is not fun. I am beyond ready to go get our little ones. It hurts my heart to know that they are there - across the ocean - without a family, and we would bring them home tomorrow if we could.
As I mentioned in an earlier post, there is one orphanage in our country that is specifically for children with HIV. The odds are good that we will be traveling to that orphanage. I was able to find a photo gallery of pictures taken there last fall.
The pictures show that the orphanage is clean and neat. The walls are colorful. The caretakers have taken the time to decorate some of the rooms themselves. There are toys and preschool-type supplies. I've heard the director is very kind and truly wants the best for the children. I am very thankful for all of these things, because I know that this is so much more than some other children have.
In spite of all these good things, there's one picture that breaks my heart. I look at it and cry. It's of two children taking a nap. They are sleeping in two twin beds that are pushed up against each other. About eighteen inches from one of the beds is another set of beds. Next to those beds is another set of beds. You get the idea.
Why does this picture bring tears to my eyes? It's because I think of my Emma. She's three, just like many of the children in this orphanage. I imagine her sleeping in a bed next to another little boy or girl, just one in a row of sleeping children.
And I think of our bedtime routine at home: the hugs and kisses, the prayers, the crocodile banishing, the cuddling with daddy, the fourteen sleep-avoiding trips to the bathroom.
And then I think of what the three-year-olds at this orphanage are missing. And I think of how badly I want two of them here, sleeping under our roof. Here, asking for one more glass of water. Here, being kissed and loved and prayed over.
And I cry.
So...other than looking at sweet faces on the internet, how am I trying to get through the next three weeks? Well, you can find me here...
...trying to expend some of my nervous energy doing crazy preschool activities with Emma.
Or here...
...using more nervous energy (and a lot of elbow grease), scrubbing the hardwood floor that was hiding under the carpet in our playroom/future kids' room. (Yes, my nesting instincts have kicked into overdrive. Jeremy is dreading my next project idea, I'm sure.)
You might also find me looking forward to another day. A day much more important than October 11. I'm anticipating the day when my Savior returns to this earth and rights the wrongs that I don't understand. The day when no child will go to bed lonely because there will be no more orphans. The day when my tears will be wiped away by the one who loves me more than I love these precious little ones. I can't wait for that day.
"He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death will not exist any more - or mourning, or crying, or pain; the former things have ceased to exist."
-Revelation 21:4
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