Meeting Little Guy

This past week, we were on the other side of the world. Fully engulfed in the Ghanaian culture that is both beautiful and heartbreaking (more on the many paradoxes in a future post).

We have been waiting for this day for so long. For at least the past 14 months, but in some ways, i think we have been waiting much longer...

Its was hard to really imagine what it would be like. How do you prepare to meet your 4 year old son for the first time? How do you guess what will feel different when your whole 6ish years of marriage, 12ish years of togetherness and 28ish years of existence have been kid-less? It certainly wasnt as glamorous as Jennifer Lopez portrayed in the movie What to Expect When you are Expecting!

I was shaking, nervous, caught off guard when they brought him in the office. They had tricked me by asking us to fill in our information in the guest book. When I looked up, he was standing there. Sleepy-eyed, confused, blank. But beyond beautiful.

The office where we first met

In Fante (the native language) he was told "this is you mom, this is your dad, go sit with them". That was the first he had heard of us. We might not all agree that it was the "best" way to be introduced but...it's just how its done. He immediately obeyed, walking over to stand in between us. But he was so distant, his eyes so far away. Protecting himself from what could be yet another unsafe situation, physically or emotionally.

For me it was beautiful. Even in the awkwardness and the not knowing what to do. I loved him immediately. His dark eyes, his yummy chocolate skin, his tiny hands. He is perfect to me.

Our first visit was about 2 hours long and it was amazing to watch him open up with us. He played soccer with us, he traced our hands on paper, he sat on our laps while we read a book. And then he finally spoke. He opened up a small, baby book and began following the numbers, counting to ten.  He has such an adorable African accent!

Our time together ended far too quickly. As soon as we said we had to leave, the little progress we made with him vanished. He was again the distant, cut off, protected little boy we saw 2 hours ago. He was very proud of his new belongings though! He quickly gathered them all up in his two little arms, struggling to hold it all: a soccer ball, a balloon and a box of sidewalk chalk. With it he proudly bounced off around the corner.

Three days later when we visited again he dropped his guard so much more quickly! In a matter of minutes he was exploring the new things we had brought him. Each time we unveiled something new out of the bag he would say "I like dees" (again, in the most adorable accent ever!). We blew up beach balls and lots of balloons. As he passed out candy to his friends, we got to see what a sweet and generous heart he has. We had brought him a granola bar assuming he was hungry (thats what a big round belly means, right?) but he only took a few bites before insisting on sharing with a smaller child. We experienced his enormous amount of energy and even got to watch him have a "bath" (aka. join in the assembly line of children being wiped down with a wet rag, lotioned up, and given a clean outfit). He told Chad he liked him and gave him an unsolicited hug.  When I stepped away to go to the bathroom, Chad swears he that he asked "where's ma"? I hope he did.

Then we gave him a brightly covered, soft photo book with six pictures of us from this past year. Before we even got to the second page he had grabbed it away, and was hugging it, laying his head on the cover. I cried a little. We tried to explain to him that he wasnt to share this. This book was only for him. The only linkage we would have while we all waited.

 Then it came time to leave. For real. It was so much harder than I could have ever prepared for. We said we had to go now. And he went cold again. After as much progress as we had made it broke my heart to see him disconnect. He grabbed his photo book and again began tucking his meager possessions under his arms. We hugged him, kissed him and told him we loved him, in English and Fante.

Then with every ounce of muscle I have, I forced my unwilling self to walk away. I cried. I cried again when we were waiting to board our plane out of Ghana, knowing we were soon to be half a world away. I am crying now as I type. I miss him. I am worried about his health and safety.

They day after we returned I read the following devotional:

"When things seem to be going all wrong, stop and affirm your trust in Me. Calmly bring these matters to Me and leave them in My capable hands. Then, simply do the next thing. Stay in touch with Me through thankful, trusting prayers, resting in My sovereign control". 

- Jesus Calling

I was reminded again (how many times do I need that reminder?) that He has brought us this far. He has written this story and knows the beginning and the end (Jeremiah 29:11-13) and he promises not to leave his children as orphans (John 14:8).