We're in full-on summer mode around here. We just got back from our awesome trip to Texas and dove straight into our summer routine... which means we go to the pool. Every day.
We belong to a pool club-thing where you have to have a membership to go. That means there are families we see all summer long and then don't see them again all winter until summer's here again. And there are always new families who just joined. Which means I'm having lots of conversations around the kiddie pool with other moms I don't know very well. And those conversations almost always start like this:
Which ones are yours?
How many do you have?
It pains me to answer the question. Of course I'm happy to point my two kiddos out in the pool (they're always the most-covered ones... I am a little anal about sun exposure!). But then I pause. How do I tell them about our little boy in Ethiopia? He's not ours. Not yet. But I love him already just as I did with my first two while I was pregnant. And then the inevitable next question always comes: "When do you bring him home?" And there's no quick answer other than "I don't know." And always lurking in the back of my mind is the thought that something could happen; that we might never get to bring him home. But these nice mamas at the pool aren't really asking me to share my soul... they're just doing that mom-thing we do 'cause asking about someone's kids is the easiest way to make a quick connection.
I think this is hard for me mainly because I completely expected him to be home by now. I had planned on a crazy summer, learning to wrangle three kids at the pool by myself. Instead, I have just two. And while I'm certainly enjoying how easy it is to just have those two, it just doesn't feel quite right.
I'm praying a lot these days (well, that's nothing new). I am trying to find the place where I can breathe easier, even knowing it is not likely we'll meet our little one until this winter. Let me tell you - it is really hard to be a mom who's separated from her child. And I've never even met this one yet. The funny thing is that there is still a joy to be in the process; knowing we're doing exactly what God has called us to do. Even on days when I want to despair, feeling like this is too long, too hard, to wait for a child after seeing his face. Yep, just joy.
God is good.