Coming

“Por qué no vienen?” Why aren’t you coming?

After 20 minutes of looking sad and avoiding eye contact, Emmanuel finally--and reluctantly--asked us this heartbreaking question Sunday.  For an instant I glanced at B and knew we were thinking the same thing: reassure him, remind him this long wait isn’t the same as other losses he has experienced in the past. We both longed to be able to reach through the screen and hug Emma, to show him how much we love him and are doing everything possible to come quickly. One day that moment will come.

For now, we’ll continue to pray for God’s timing—and we’ll enjoy each minute on Skype, each email, each text, each picture.

We are coming, Emma. Te lo prometemos. We promise.  

La cancion

Yesterday I heard a new song…from our daughter. Freely and from her heart, she sang to us.

Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. A couple of times she covered up her face out of embarrassment, but she kept singing. When finished, several times she said, “Mom, cántame una canción” (sing me a song), and I couldn’t think of one in Spanish. But then Papi rescued me by recommending we sing one that we know from church, one that means so much to us because it talks about who God is. We—who are definitely not known for our melodic voices—sang “Forever Reign.” And I believe that it, too, was beautiful. We were singing to the Lord AND to our daughter. She smiled the entire time, a smile that seems to erase all of the hard moments….such as afterward when we had to talk to her about being nice to her brother. Such as the struggles she has faced in her past that want to define her. Such as a decade of uncertainty and pain.

My heart is singing today.  Sing with me.

Birthdays

They are days to celebrate—celebrate each other and all God can do to make a year so special. This past Monday my husband turned 40, a number that sounds much older than we both feel. Several weeks ago I asked him what he wanted to do to celebrate, and he jokingly replied that we should have a Cinco de Mayo party (two days prior to his actual birthday). Before I could finish my sentence asking who we should invite, he said quite simply, “Ruth and Emmanuel.” 

So on Saturday he thought he was attending a leadership meeting for the youth theater company we volunteer for. It was a perfect set-up, especially because we get together all the time. Even when we walked into our friends’ house and people jumped out of every corner yelling “Surprise!” B still didn’t realize it was a party for him; he thought we were celebrating Cinco de Mayo. That says a lot about how selfless my husband is. When our friends’ four-year-old son handed him a birthday card, he realized that we definitely were not having a group meeting. But that wasn’t the best part of the night.

Fast forward about 10 minutes. My friend Katie had set up her computer with a huge screen (sheets serve multiple purposes!) in the front room. Barak hadn’t noticed when I snuck out of the room because I had a very important Skype call to make. I will forever remember the moment I looked up and saw his face as he walked down the hall. He couldn’t see or hear our kids yet, but he figured it out. With the biggest smile, he said, “Oh…is this what I think it is?” Right then he stepped into the room and saw Ruth bigger than life on the wall. It didn’t matter that we had Skyped with them for two hours that morning. Nope, all that mattered was that he got to celebrate his birthday with his kids. Such a true father. With all of our friends gathered around, we brought out a cake and everyone, including our kids and their foster parents and sister, happily sang “Feliz Cumpleanos.”  Emma was pretty shy and only stayed on screen for a moment. But everyone in the room will remember when Ruth looked right at B and said—in her limited but practiced English—“Happy birthday, Papi. I love you.”

Some presents will never have a price tag.

Immigration

This week they came: official immigration papers, known in the adoption world as the I-800. I opened Emmanuel's first and stared at it for a full minute before it hit me. It is a provisional approval, which threw me until I realized they don't send final papers until after the adoption. So this is it--the final stage other than updating our documents and waiting for the judicial process to start. It could be just a few more weeks....or it could still be several months. The waiting continues, but we are waiting happily and expectedly.

Immigration is a permanent step--just as we are a permanent family.Una family para siempre.

While we wait, we get to keep dreaming, preparing, and connecting with our kids. Yesterday they received their care package, and it's special to know they have pictures, letters, and presents made just for them. Some of the youth and kids in our church sent them letters, too, and it's a reminder that they are loved by a huge family. We treasure all the Skype calls together. Whether they are playful and upbeat or they pull back some, we always enjoy spending time with them. And they are quick to tell us they love us and to ask how soon we're coming. We've also learned that Emmanuel loves the emoticons and Ruth is a huge fan of typing while we Skype. Emmanuel wants to be a ninja, and we have fun acting that out together. (Um, just picture B! :)

Love

Love really does transcend all else--at least when it's God's love that he puts inside of us.

I just got done with a spontaneous Skype call with my children, their social worker, and my mom. They got to meet their abuela today, and she can't stop gushing. It's precious to see this pure love she already has for them. Ruth and Emmanuel were all smiles. When Ruth told my mom "I am happy" in perfect English--with a huge grin--I'm not sure if the first happy tear came from my mom or from me. We're learning every day that some things will always be priceless.

Texting with Ruth this past hour is another gift beyond price. Whether she's asking about Papi, telling me she loves me, calling me Mami and Mama, asking how soon we're coming, or helping me figure out how to use the emoticons, it's all the perfect conversation. They make me laugh. Smile. Feel protective. Want to burst out of happiness. Want to never forget how incredibly good and faithful God is. THIS is love. This transcends an emotion.

We are so impressed with our kids' social worker and all of the staff at Casa Viva (whom I got to meet via Skype today). They obviously really care about the kids and only want the best for them. THAT is love.

I'm understanding more every day the sacrifice God made in letting go of his son. That is the ultimate love.

I'm in WA with my parents because I'm seeing a doctor here for my foot. Despite the physical trials hitting every day, I am confident that I have experienced and now can give this real love--his real love.

Moving Forward

At the bank signing our acceptance letter

We are about to mail the immigration papers. It is hard to describe how it feels to complete a visa application for your own children...knowing that God has given them a new home--forever. Since Costa Rica requires families to begin the judicial process prior to travel, we might still be here another few months. There is one other family adopting from Costa Rica ahead of us in the process, and they waited about four months from the time they mailed their immigration papers.

But in the meantime we get to email our kids every day, and we'll get to see and hear them again tomorrow on Skype. This is an amazing journey, and God continues to show us the verse that says he does so much more than we could ever think or imagine.

The Gibsons (minus 2)

Our friend Paige just posted some pics she took of me and Barak a few weeks ago, and she told me she can't wait until the next Gibson photo shoot--that it might be a lifetime favorite. The Gibsons: family of four. :)

Life

Yesterday marked two days in a row of Skyping with our children...life is so full. There are moments when I feel like my heart might explode, but it's a happy explosion--like there's too much love to contain. We learned yesterday that Ruth's favorite color is blue, just like her mom. We also learned that her favorite thing is...being with us. That was a moment that will last a lifetime.

We also got to meet the foster dad and talk with both him and his wife for a few minutes. They and their 20-year-old daughter are super special and all obviously love the kids so much. That means the world to us. They are surrounded by really good people--God's people.

On Friday when Barak got to share a few minutes of the Skype call with the leaders and youth on the trip in New York, we received an email shortly after from our good friend Gwen. She wrote, "I have been crying since I saw you two talking to each other and then to see the kids just touched me so deeply.  The verse from proverbs (13) came on my heart... 'Hope deferred maketh the heart sick: but when the desire cometh, it is a tree of life.'  That's what I feel...a tree of life worth of love and blessing from how God is writing this story."

Gwen, you said it perfectly. We are experiencing a tree of life. God continues to write this story, his story.