Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Better Than Update Day!

For 30 days a month… I wait.
It’s painful.
Yet, it also fills me with a level of anticipation that compares to little else.
I check my phone every time it bings in hopes that the email that just came through reveals the title “Monthly Update.”

That’s all I can hope for right now. I am invited to ask both of my Ethiopian kiddos 5 simple questions each month, and 30 long days later, they will send me their answers and an updated picture. Update day is my favorite day… for now.

But... every once in awhile, another adoptive parent will head over for court or embassy and then the real fun begins.  Last week was one of those weeks!  Two girlfriends headed to Ethiopia and took small care packages to our kids. For a couple days in a row, my phone would pop up new pictures of my sweet teens.

One after another.

The moms would write me funny stories that show how different my kids are.  My daughter was busy requesting a photo shoot with another little girl, but my son was protesting, saying they already took too many pictures of him. He told one friend, “my mom already knows what I look like!” 

They shared innocent words from my kids and heartbreaking messages about needing to comfort my daughter as she cried. She simply wanted to know when it would be her mom’s turn to come to Ethiopia. She wanted to know when she would get to hug her mom.

She is not the only one.

There is nothing I want more than to hold that little girl and her beautiful little brother. In order to do that, I still need a PAIR letter.  A simply letter that proves they are orphans and invites us to come to Ethiopia for court. For months we have had to wait for that letter. 

It. Is. Coming. Right?

Although one letter can’t seem to find its way to me, another one did.  Today, I opened up my mailbox to find a handwritten letter so full of the word LOVE it sounds like it was written by… well… a teenage girl!

A little piece of her full page letter… 
And it was!

The friend that had to comfort my daughter and wipe away her tears for me last week brought back to the states a letter from my daughter. It begins, “Dear my family.” What a powerful word for a 14-year-old orphan to write.  Family. 

Once a month, I get an update, but every day I have hope.  

This month… I pray for a PAIR letter. 
This month… I want to hold all 5 of my children in my arms.
This month… I dream of hearing my two favorite African voices call me “Mommy.”