I caught a glimpse of heaven today.
No, it was not the sun rising in Miami, or setting in west Texas.
No, it was not the genuine kindness if strangers who simply said, "God bless your family" as they saw Erica Blaschke and I with our precious 7 little ones.
It was not the U.S. Customs official or even the flag of the fallen to honor those who died in service on Sept. 11.
The glimpse of heaven was the bright-eyed wonder in my son's eyes when he saw our house for the first time. Lincon has been through things in his little life that I will never understand. He has been lied to by adults, betrayed, abandoned, neglected, and worse his whole life. He does not trust easily. And he has asked, almost incessantly, for the past week, "Estados Unidos?" And every time, my answer is the same. Trust me son, just wait a little longer.
He wanted to believe me. But it has never happened before.
We left the apartment in Curitiba on Thursday morning at 4:00. Airport. Flight. Hotel. Consulate. Waiting... waiting... waiting..."Estados Unidos?" Not yet.
This conversation was repeated a dozen times on Thursday. On Friday, at 4:24 p.m. we left the hotel in Rio headed for the airport. "Estados Unidos?" Very soon. Indeed.
We flew over night to Miami, landing at 5:00 a.m. I was so eager to please and surprise him that I blurted out, "Estados Unidos!" To which he responded... with disgust? The thing for which we waited and waited was finally here, and you are unimpressed?
Daylight did not impress. The Dallas airport failed to satisfy. Our huge 15 passenger van, ok, but not worthy.
We drove the entire way from Dallas to Clovis with only 2 stops, one of which was for gasoline. Did the white cotton or green fields or lakes or highways or anything impress my boy? Nope.
But when we pulled into our driveway at 8:05 p.m. on Saturday, and we parked and opened the door to the house... all at once he believed. He knew the truth. This adoption is real and it is forever. He is our son now and forever. He saw the house and his eyes lit up like a Christmas Tree on Dec 25. "Estados Unidos!" He exclaimed. It is real.
And that my friends, is heaven. Faith is the essence of things hoped for; the certainty of things not seen. It is that promise of God that you can barely bring yourself to imagine. It is that place jesus is preparing for you. Meanwhile, you must also prepare for it.
Thank you for walking this journey of adoption with my family and I. We appreciate your prayers and kindness more than our words can echo. Thank you.
No, it was not the sun rising in Miami, or setting in west Texas.
No, it was not the genuine kindness if strangers who simply said, "God bless your family" as they saw Erica Blaschke and I with our precious 7 little ones.
It was not the U.S. Customs official or even the flag of the fallen to honor those who died in service on Sept. 11.
The glimpse of heaven was the bright-eyed wonder in my son's eyes when he saw our house for the first time. Lincon has been through things in his little life that I will never understand. He has been lied to by adults, betrayed, abandoned, neglected, and worse his whole life. He does not trust easily. And he has asked, almost incessantly, for the past week, "Estados Unidos?" And every time, my answer is the same. Trust me son, just wait a little longer.
He wanted to believe me. But it has never happened before.
We left the apartment in Curitiba on Thursday morning at 4:00. Airport. Flight. Hotel. Consulate. Waiting... waiting... waiting..."Estados Unidos?" Not yet.
This conversation was repeated a dozen times on Thursday. On Friday, at 4:24 p.m. we left the hotel in Rio headed for the airport. "Estados Unidos?" Very soon. Indeed.
We flew over night to Miami, landing at 5:00 a.m. I was so eager to please and surprise him that I blurted out, "Estados Unidos!" To which he responded... with disgust? The thing for which we waited and waited was finally here, and you are unimpressed?
Daylight did not impress. The Dallas airport failed to satisfy. Our huge 15 passenger van, ok, but not worthy.
We drove the entire way from Dallas to Clovis with only 2 stops, one of which was for gasoline. Did the white cotton or green fields or lakes or highways or anything impress my boy? Nope.
But when we pulled into our driveway at 8:05 p.m. on Saturday, and we parked and opened the door to the house... all at once he believed. He knew the truth. This adoption is real and it is forever. He is our son now and forever. He saw the house and his eyes lit up like a Christmas Tree on Dec 25. "Estados Unidos!" He exclaimed. It is real.
And that my friends, is heaven. Faith is the essence of things hoped for; the certainty of things not seen. It is that promise of God that you can barely bring yourself to imagine. It is that place jesus is preparing for you. Meanwhile, you must also prepare for it.
Thank you for walking this journey of adoption with my family and I. We appreciate your prayers and kindness more than our words can echo. Thank you.
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