For 1,054 days my sweet boy lived here. Third floor, in a room with 16 other children. Children came and went, I'm not sure how frequently. Nurses and caregivers came and went. Days were spent looking at four walls, a small playground (weather permitting) and hallways illustrated with paintings attempting cheerfulness.
The ladies that cared for him did the best they could. Clothes were shared, shoes were shared. Laps to cuddle in were few and far between. There just simply wasn't enough. Not enough diapers. Not enough food. Not enough time in the day to give that many children the attention they needed. Not enough hugs and kisses to go around.
|Writing Home from Russia|
Today is a happy day for us, the day we "tip the scale" of orphanage life. Our 1,055 day together. Home. With a family. Where, praise God, there is always enough. Enough food, enough hugs, enough kisses, enough encouragement. And talking, constant talking....No longer is the world made up of four walls. A world of church, of home, of community. A world with a giant ocean for swimming in, a never ending parade of grandparents and gifts. A world filled with movie theaters, theme parks and camp-outs. A world with discovery and learning. A world that is explored everyday by a chatterbox wild-child with a memory like a steel trap.
I recently asked him if he remembered Russia. He said "I remember when you were there with me". I asked him "You mean when we met you? When we brought you home?" He replied, quite offended "No, when you lived there with me" Sadly, I told him we never lived there with him. He looked at me in disbelief. Then he shrugged and said "I guess you were just looking for me, but it felt like you were there the whole time" It was a profound statement to me, but he chased it with "What are we having for dinner?"
Then I realized I was with him the whole time. For 1,054 days I was longing for him and waiting for God to make a way for a child to be born. I was praying and seeking and waiting....Little did I know that a child was waiting, across the ocean for me.
Whenever I feel angry about the 1,054 Charlie spent waiting for a family, I can't help but think that God's timing is always perfect. That He was setting into motion the perfect plan for both of our lives. That while I was staring at the ink dots He was painting a masterpiece. Our red thread, though it twisted and tangled, was never broken.
And I can't imagine these last 1,055 days without him in it.