And now comes the part of the story that is hard to remember.
When sweetness turned to sadness.
After days of spending time with my little girl
the day came when I needed to say good bye.
Or until next time.
This adoption involved two trips to Russia.
So I had to leave her to await an invitation to come back to take her home.
I knew that day that the time was drawing close.
I played with Jenny and sipped more tea.
Talked to her and she studied my face with her serious gaze
when suddenly the orphanage worker came into the room,
reached down and took her by the hand
and led her away. Abruptly.
I watched in surprise thinking that she would bring her back.
It was earlier than I had expected. But that was it.
When I asked questions I just was given head shakes and nods.
Realizing that I wouldn’t see her for weeks and wondering if anyone had explained
what was to happen to this little two year old
I hurriedly left the orphanage and bought a smiling stuffed bear
and brought it back.
Please, please give this to her. Tell her it’s from her Mommy
and that I will come back and get her.
Then with a heavy heart I was driven away from the orphanage that afternoon
and put on the train to Moscow.
It was hard to push away my thoughts and to prepared myself to fly home.
Feeling so empty without my little one
but excited to get home to my oldest daughter
But deep inside I knew His loving care and trusted His timing.
Today? This was the day before Christmas.
The farther I got from the orphanage the better I felt.
So with the beginnings of excitement I boarded the airplane to fly home.
I could hardly wait.
I imagined the joy of being with my daughter and family.
It would be good. And with those thoughts I drifted off to sleep.
Before I knew it we landed Amsterdam
and were informed that due to a snowstorm in the States
we were all being put up in the hotel
for the night.
My heart sank. It couldn’t be. It was almost Christmas and I had promised to be home.
For a long time I stood at the desk searching for some plane,
any plane to get me back to the States.
Anything closer than Amsterdam.
But again and again was told there was nothing.
Slowly I walked the hall and found my room.
How would I possibly break the news to my daughter?
With sadness I placed a call and shared my disappointment.
No matter how hard I tried, there was no way that I’d be home for Christmas this year.
I remember well that phone call and telling her.
Memories of shared tears.
Memories of hearts wanting to be together after long days of separation.
As I placed the receiver down on the phone
my tears flowed.
Lord, I need you.
Adoption is never easy. For me, it always was a walk of faith.
Trusting the Lord’s timing. Resting in His Plan. Embracing His Love.
But on this night so many years ago
I remember crying myself to sleep.
One daughter still in Russia without her mommy.
My other daughter in Virginia without her mommy.
But in the darkest hour, He was there.
Comforting a weary mother who was alone on Christmas.
The next day I flew home to a wonderful, although belated Christmas celebration.
It would be a few weeks until I got the notification that I could return for my youngest.