Have Your Eyes Open Til It Comes

“Little hands on a June evening, as the stars are coming out.  He wants to capture fireflies, but he doesn’t know how.  Tears run faster than those little feet ‘til Daddy says…”

Last Saturday night I remember having the conscious thought that I felt great; that I’d been supernaturally energetic and productive over these first six weeks home.  Literally within the hour I barely wanted to lift my arms.  Sunday morning I woke still overcome with fatigue.  I sat with my coffee at the computer and turned on this new video of my older sister, Christa.  It’s a song she has been in the studio recording for her new album.

“Trust me, we can catch the light if we keep our eyes open when it comes.”

The tears started and I knew I needed to see my family.  I still couldn’t tell you why, but I cried the rest of the day.  Maybe courage has side effects.  Maybe it’s the trying to be strong all the time that makes us weak.  Tom moved some small mountains that very morning to make it possible for the kids and I to leave on Wednesday.  By Monday, over dinner with a sweet friend, night my ears started to hurt.  Wednesday morning it was in my chest.  But I drove the children nine hours through wind and rain anyway; over the Tennessee River and through the Appalachian woods to Grandma’s house outside of Nashville.

“Maybe you sailed in with a bright vision and you lost it on the way."

l literally drove to Nashville because I wanted my Mom to make dinner for me.  I love to cook, I have an amazing kitchen and am perfectly capable of cooking anything I want at any time.  With extensive food restrictions, though, it has become one of my love languages to have someone else think through the complexities of my diet.  Adopting an older child is different in so many ways from giving birth or adopting a baby.  One way is that there are no baby showers or volunteers for a few weeks of meals.  It’s not like we’re dealing with the sleeplessness of infancy or the more obvious aspects of recovery.  We are burning it at both ends having younger, energetic children that are awake early in the morning and two needy teenagers that are awake well into the night.  Your child's name isn't added to the list when the church makes birth announcements.  She was born sixteen years ago.  And we weren't there.  It can feel like the joy stopped at the welcome home and the rest is all "adjustment".  "How's the adjustment going?"  With a teenager, a strict schedule and boundaries and heart-to-hearts and awareness are absolutely necessary. Still, when the dust has settled from a long and arduous labor, it is just the beginning of our new life, as new parents, to a new child.  I have wanted someone else to care for us as much as I ever did after giving birth.

“Maybe you felt a little blindness would lessen the pain.  Trust me, you can catch the light if you keep your eyes open ‘til it comes.”

About halfway there, Liza came to the conclusion that she’s not a fan of long drives.  She took the "Are we there yet?” syndrome to a whole new level.  In Russian.  “Yet? Yet? Yet? Yet? Is it that one?  The next one?  The other one?”  I have no idea what orphan daydreamed scenarios she has played in her mind about visiting grandparents.  It is just evident that she had come up with a few.  When we took the first curve on Beasley’s Bend aka "the curly road", she said, in perfect English, “You’re not serious.”  Two minutes later she was past the long hours, the leg cramps and the nausea.  Two little nephews were sitting on big rocks at the end of the long gravel drive waiting for us.  We honked all the way to the front door.  She yelled out the window, to whomever lay behind the walls, “Hey everybody, we’re here!”

“You have heard of a strange figure visiting the poor.  He gave His own body, to ransom their souls.”

This was just where we needed to be.  As sick as I was the entire trip, it was tonic for my soul.  Though we missed our home during our time in Ukraine, it is a constant reminder of the man who built it and his loss.  We miss him terribly every day.  And even though things are going really, really well at home by all standards of adjustment, we needed some TLC.  My older sister was in town recording her album; four of her children with her.  My younger sister came out from the city to stay with her three littles.  My parent's house has never been a place to get a good nap.  It’s a place to get a good hug and a healthy dose of chaos.  My Dad calls it the zoo.

“It seems too good to be true, but you haven’t found it false."

"I believe that there is a light coming, to find you with your eyes open.” 

We had a Valentine’s Day hunt on their 72 acres. Each granddaughter woke to a rose on the breakfast table.  Three of the children wrote clues and mapped out the course.  We walked out the back door, me, my dad, 10 kids and 2 dogs.  We drove the four-wheeler too fast down the hills.  We crossed bridges.   We descended into ravines.  We visited the cliffs.  We walked barefoot in the creek.  We skipped rocks.  We laughed.  We fell down.  We helped each other back up.  We discovered treasure (and I don’t mean the bags of candy waiting at the end).

 "Just have your eyes open til it comes.”

 

  

Liza had an unforgettable first visit.  She and our 14 year old, October, got to visit to one of the colleges where my little sister teaches art.  They participated in a painting class before she delivered them to our older sister at the music studio.  Coolest aunts on the planet.  We picked Tom up at the airport and went to dinner with old friends, one of whom was possibly our biggest prayer warrior, Tara, and the other was Tiffany (of Plumb) whose fans helped spread the word of our difficulties in Philly in November.  

On our last day, the amazing Jen Wood, http://www.jenwoodphotography.com, drove more than an hour out to the boondocks for an all day photo shoot with us.  As a gift.  We've known each other since college days and though we rarely see each other, she'd followed our story and prayed for us all along the way.  She had written to us in January to say that God was speaking to her about telling our story in pictures.  These are kind of images, like a great song, that one is helplessly riveted by. She worked with each of our kids tell the camera who they are...even when that meant jumping on a trampoline all the while.

Just before our time ran out, Liza had her first driving lesson with Daddy...on Papa's four wheeler wagon!  Not quite rested, but more than replenished, we headed home.

Every day brings new challenges and every day brings new gifts whether you have a new child or not.  During this time, we all sometimes feel like we can't find a solitary comfort that feels "normal".  Even my favorite burger joint closed down last week.  I am nothing if not a creature of habit.  It's really a silly thing to have an emotion about.  It's another change to get used to.  Then God writes us precious moments that feed the hunger, like tonight, when Liza said she needed something..."for her soul."  We talked a little over a late dinner and as she headed to bed I asked if she'd had an idea what she was needing.  I wanted to help but I didn't know how.

 She turned and said, "уже (already)...You."  

"Trust me, you can catch the light if you keep your eyes open til it comes.  Have your eyes open.  Have your eyes open when it comes."