Sacred Intersections

Our lives are always intersecting with others. Sometimes these intersections are insignificant. I take my receipt and we both offer a shallow "Have a nice day." Other intersections leave us hot under the collar or walking with a lighter step. Still others leave an indelible mark, for which we are grateful. 

This is one such intersection. 

The difference of one week and we never would have met. Our eyes would never have connected along the bumpy roads of Addis Ababa as we took in the tragic beauty surrounding our crowded van. We would never have shared stories over bottled Cokes, or stifled tears outside the depressing walls of an orphanage. 

We brought our children home and began the journey of attaching and bonding, comparing notes along the way. We struggled apart in a together kind of way. There is something tenacious in the adoption community that cannot be diminished by the miles separating us. We are drawn to one another and to living a weird life. 

You stepped out in trembling faith to adopt a special needs boy. As if that were not enough, a street boy had approached us, begging us to be his mom and dad. You did what I (and countless others) had deemed "impossible" in order to assuage our guilt. You now call him "Son", and he truly is.  The handwriting was on the wall; You were destined for the extraordinary, despite yourselves. You, again, find your family on the precipice of something altogether faith-filled and utterly gut-wrenching. And I stand with you, linking arms, humbled to call you "friend", and burdened as you fight the anxiousness of the unknown. 

My dear readers, the words I write here are quickly forgotten, but the work of Tiffany and her family is of eternal significance. Please, please, PLEASE go see what they're about. Then decide how you can encourage them. 

Blessings,

Cynthia