We leave on Saturday for trip one.

I'm a mess

There's excitement- but kind of the sick to your stomach excitement you feel while waiting in line to ride a new rollercoaster.

And then finally you're buckled in your seat- the bar ominously lowers and clicks into place- you're not getting off this ride.  And you are not in control. 

The time for second guessing is over and the next part is all about surviving- hopefully with a little bit of dignity and grace.

There will be moments when the wind is whipping by your face- and you feel exhilarated.  Moments of breathless joy as you balance on top of the world- and then moments of breathless terror as the ground comes rushing up to meet you.  You feel free.  You feel trapped.  You are living. You are dying.

You've been here before.  The ride is not totally unfamiliar.  You may not know the exact course the car will take but the track has been laid.  And you are not in control.

I'm a mess.  And the truth is I've always been one.

I struggle with anxiety but most of the time it doesn't completely overwhelm me.

But right now I am overwhelmed.

I can't wait to meet him.  I hope he likes me and by the end of our visit feels some connection to me and Timmy.  But I know that's not realistic and attachment takes time (a lot of it) and hard work, and it's not guaranteed.  I know I will love him unconditionally.  I know he has friends in the orphanage- I know when we bring him home he will be full of grief and fear of the unfamiliar and I may not bring him any comfort.

I know the brokenness he carries with him will touch the whole family.

There will be so many needs and I will struggle to meet them.  I will grieve the years I didn't know him- the baby I never got to hold.

Expectations will die and small victories will be celebrated.

And what I know most of all is I really don't know.  I don't know.  And this isn't a small thing it's a huge thing...and still I don't know.  I don't know.  I don't know.

I hear the click, click, click as the coaster climbs.

All the paperwork, clearances, and homestudies have led me to this moment- when I finally get to meet this little boy.

I am so very ready to meet him.  To love him.

Five years.  He's lived for five years in an orphanage.  What will that look like?

I don't know.

I think of every possibility and plan but I am not in control.  I don't get to be in control.  I've known for many years who holds my future in His hands- and I truly wouldn't want it any other way.  But I can't completely quiet the fear.

So this is where I sign off.  I'm struggling.
I know the truth and still I'm struggling.  I can't wait to see my boy!  And still I'm struggling.  I believe that God is in control and He is working all things for my good- and to be honest- I'm struggling.  It's  going to have to be ok to struggle.

"When I am afraid, I put my trust in you" Psalm 56:3

And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God's love.  Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow--not even the powers of hell can separate us from God's love.
Romans 8:38-39

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke on you and learn from me, because I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light
Matthew 11:28-30

Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.  And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.  Philippians 4:6-7

"We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be."
C. S. Lewis