Belief. Willed belief.

– Do you think of your sister? I had a dream about her.
– I had a dream about her too! – said J.
– You did? How was she? I asked
– She was so beautiful … [then she comes close to whisper as if it was a secret], so beautiful that I wanted to kiss her on the lips! – Then she giggles.

During the kids camp in the mountains I was reminded how much work younger kids are. But, in comparison, the older kids give their parent more headaches and heartache.

I often think of baby Colibry. She is so close and yet so far. She goes to sleep every night (where, how…), and I pray there are willing arms to hold her and reassure her often.

Imagining her drives me mental. So I refrain. I think of her in prayer. Otherwise it’s too painful. Knowing what I know about abandoned children, makes me so sad and worried.

There will be a time when we’ll see things in retrospect, and it will all make sense, but in the meantime, we have no other option but to live in faith.

Faith that God is in control. That He can and is watching over us and her.
That my gift this season is to rest, not consume myself with concern over things that I can’t change. That this time spent with my eldest is precious. We talk often about adopting again, adopting her sister, and it creates a context to talk about adoption. I see it as cathartic and quite helpful to work through Jackie’s story. See, they already help each other by providing for us a storyline, a sounding board, a shared context.

Mama is waiting for you, fighting for you, praying for you. We’re not giving up. Faithfully yours.

Sometimes, when we have a lot of fun, I feel guilty. Guilty that we make lovely memories while you feel your life is so uncertain. But it’s not. We are across this shaky bridge, a scary transition, ready to embrace you.