Back to "Normal"

Jadyn has returned from China but is having trouble returning to "normal" life. As soon as she got home she gave us the play-by-play as we looked through her pictures. The first few days they did some sight-seeing - The Great Wall of China, The Forbidden City, 2008 Olympic Buildings, and a Flying Acrobat Show - to name a few. Not only did she see these beautiful artworks but she also learned the history behind them. She described the detailed paintings on the buildings in The Forbidden City. She shared with us that it took 14 years of slave labor to complete the entire city and that it was created for one emperor. 14 years!!! (Hopefully I got all the facts right.) She was impressed by the creativity and the effort! We were impressed! We were also amazed to realize it is simply a tourist sight - no one resides there anymore. All that work - just to look at!? Interesting! The artist in her liked it.

But none of these sights, no matter how grand, artistic, or expensive compared to Sage, Vincent, Landon, Angel, Josiah, Claire, Reagan and all the other kids she spent the rest of the week loving. She knew each child's special need, their laugh, and the sound of their voice. She knew where different children had been abandoned, which children had heart defects, which ones had been matched with families, which ones couldn't walk, and special feeding instructions for children with cleft palates. She's not crying because she misses The Great Wall! She's not looking at the pictures of the acrobat show over and over again so she doesn't forget the costumes and amazing acts of bravery. No, she misses the people that she shared her life with. The sweet kids that she most likely will never see again. Tonight we looked at the pictures again, and she cried, again. As a mom, I ache for her. As a mom, I hope her life never returns to "normal."

What do you want to be when you grow up?

What do you want to be when you grow up? All I ever said was a "mommy." Sounded like the best job in the world when I was a little, skirted girl totin' around my brown yarn, piggy-tailed cabbage patch named Yvonne. I was a good mommy to Yvonne. We would swing and I'd sing. Then I'd put her in her little wooden bunk bed with the purple blanket, on the top bunk of course, so she'd be just like me. Sometimes I'd even squish Yvonne into a ball so she'd fit under my dress and give me a round-bellied look. Then, with no effort at all out she popped with a pretend cry. Being a mommy was an easy job!

Now years later, if asked, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" my reply is the same. (And I'm not just saying that to sound all sappy and emotional.) However, reality has punctured my dreamy images of me and Yvonne, because "mommy world" is very hard outside the land of make-believe. Before our littlest was added to the family I remember laying awake at night - afraid. Afraid of being able to love another, afraid my brains capacity to comprehend each child's dreams would spit, sputter, and eventually explode like a microwave exposed to metal. Afraid I wasn't strong enough...knowing I wasn't strong enough...how would I lead them along this bumpy, mean road called life.

That's when these words pushed their way into my worried head and unfurrowed my brow, loosened the tightened shoulders, and brought me peace at 4 a.m. so I could sleep. These words were this... "He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young." Mysterious words when pulled out and added to the middle of a blog. What does a shepherd have to do with anything? And how does thinking about shepherds help one sleep? I thought counting sheep was supposed to help bring sleep? Actually, focusing on the sheep was keeping me awake.

Chicago is full of interesting people with curious style and fascinating skills and careers, but I've never met a practicing "shepherd." Don't really know what kind of skills it takes to be a shepherd. But these words were written to a people that knew the skill of shepherding. It was real to them. The shepherd gave his sheep special attention. It is no wonder Jesus is called the Good Shepherd.

The closest thing I've seen to a real, human shepherd is what you see in the above picture. This was the view I saw every morning as I watched the sun come up in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. And honestly, it was peaceful. I was a silent observer from my hotel window as the animals grazed. I observed a lot from that window but this picture didn't stand out to me until today when I thought again of those comforting words. And it was then I noticed something new in the picture. The little person kneeling next to the animal, hugging him, lovin' on the dirty ol' thing. It's really beautiful, actually. And today I needed that encouragement.

You see, my 11-year-old baby boards a plane tomorrow, headed to China with her daddy. A dream for her. She is going to go love on little sweeties that are in need of a lot, all at her request. She can't speak their language, she's not medically trained to help them with their special needs, but she can love. It's her dream. Many kids have dreams and we know they are just "kid" dreams that will fade. But my baby's dream to run an orphanage in China isn't pretend to her, it's her reality. So they must go. Gently nudged by the Shepherd that this is how we were to guide our young. Anticipating that He is going to give her new eyes to see people as He does - as His creations. Anticipating that He will gently guide her as she helps these young ones.

I hope some day her dream comes alive. I'm glad mine has! Mommy-life is tricky, zany, and crazy hard. But I'm SO glad the Shepherd's there to gently lead me as I lead these little and "not-so little" ones. Like I said earlier, I'm not strong enough to do it alone...