It was a full weekend.
Full in the truest sense.
I can't wait to tell you more about Jackson's graduation and all the redneck ways we celebrated. I'll even show you some pictures tomorrow.
Seriously, y'all will not believe it. For now I'll just say it included plenty of knee slapping, hoopin' and hollerin', fishing, hanging congrats signs up with duct tape, shootin' skeet, making a dessert called 'redneck surprise,' and 3 extension cords that ran from the field to the house so we could plug up the pop up camper.
Yes, it was full. Full of laughter. Full of family. Full of the sense of belonging I've always prayed my adopted sons could have. Jackson is a part of us in the deepest sense and it is a beautiful thing. We celebrated his graduation like nobody's business. And then it was over.
The fishing poles went back to the garage.
The family packed up and went home.
The pop up camper was popped down and back in.
The redneck surprise was licked clean. (Not by me of course- I had watermelon and was actually happy about it- miraculous.)
But the duct taped signs remain because that's how we rednecks roll. No sense in wasting the durability of good duct tape. Who knows how long those tacky signs will stay up. My guess is quite a while.
My heart wasn't in place to take one more thing down yesterday.
For it wasn't just the end of a grand celebration for Jackson, it was also the beginning of Hope's journey to Africa. Yes, yesterday marked the day on the calendar when I sent my baby to Africa.
Life is funny that way. On the same weekend I held my son from Africa so close, I had to let my daughter go to Africa so far away.
And it was hard. Much harder than I'd anticipated.
I had not expected to see her to cry at the airport. I had not expected to see her wrap her arms around her Daddy and bury her head into his chest. I had not expected to feel a tightness in my chest that squeezed my heart so tightly, it made my breath catch.
A conversation I just had with Hope a couple of weeks ago flooded my mind. I didn't want to recall this conversation. I didn't want to say goodbye with her words bumping around in the depths of my heart. A heart in this moment that was too raw to process her complete assurance of heaven and the easy way she said she'd be just fine if something happened to her in Africa.
I feel certain she'll be fine. But a couple weeks ago she wanted me to know that even if something did happen to her over in Africa, she'd be completely overjoyed to trade the dusty roads of earth for the glorious arms of Jesus that await her in eternity.
Hello. Not a conversation a mom expects to have with her 15 year old daughter. But then again, what conversation could be more important? And more telling of where her heart is. A place I've prayed for her heart to be since she was conceived.
With one last kiss on the top of that head I have stroked countless times, I left my back-pack toting baby walking toward a mission she's been called to fulfill.
Somewhere in Ethiopia right now, there is an orphan crying.
Somewhere over the skies of Germany there is a girl flying.
Somewhere in America, there is a mom praying.
And the God of the universe is knitting all their hearts together as one.
Good thing that redneck surprise dessert was licked clean by someone else y'all. It's a good thing indeed.
Full in the truest sense.
I can't wait to tell you more about Jackson's graduation and all the redneck ways we celebrated. I'll even show you some pictures tomorrow.
Seriously, y'all will not believe it. For now I'll just say it included plenty of knee slapping, hoopin' and hollerin', fishing, hanging congrats signs up with duct tape, shootin' skeet, making a dessert called 'redneck surprise,' and 3 extension cords that ran from the field to the house so we could plug up the pop up camper.
Yes, it was full. Full of laughter. Full of family. Full of the sense of belonging I've always prayed my adopted sons could have. Jackson is a part of us in the deepest sense and it is a beautiful thing. We celebrated his graduation like nobody's business. And then it was over.
The fishing poles went back to the garage.
The family packed up and went home.
The pop up camper was popped down and back in.
The redneck surprise was licked clean. (Not by me of course- I had watermelon and was actually happy about it- miraculous.)
But the duct taped signs remain because that's how we rednecks roll. No sense in wasting the durability of good duct tape. Who knows how long those tacky signs will stay up. My guess is quite a while.
My heart wasn't in place to take one more thing down yesterday.
For it wasn't just the end of a grand celebration for Jackson, it was also the beginning of Hope's journey to Africa. Yes, yesterday marked the day on the calendar when I sent my baby to Africa.
Life is funny that way. On the same weekend I held my son from Africa so close, I had to let my daughter go to Africa so far away.
And it was hard. Much harder than I'd anticipated.
I had not expected to see her to cry at the airport. I had not expected to see her wrap her arms around her Daddy and bury her head into his chest. I had not expected to feel a tightness in my chest that squeezed my heart so tightly, it made my breath catch.
A conversation I just had with Hope a couple of weeks ago flooded my mind. I didn't want to recall this conversation. I didn't want to say goodbye with her words bumping around in the depths of my heart. A heart in this moment that was too raw to process her complete assurance of heaven and the easy way she said she'd be just fine if something happened to her in Africa.
I feel certain she'll be fine. But a couple weeks ago she wanted me to know that even if something did happen to her over in Africa, she'd be completely overjoyed to trade the dusty roads of earth for the glorious arms of Jesus that await her in eternity.
Hello. Not a conversation a mom expects to have with her 15 year old daughter. But then again, what conversation could be more important? And more telling of where her heart is. A place I've prayed for her heart to be since she was conceived.
With one last kiss on the top of that head I have stroked countless times, I left my back-pack toting baby walking toward a mission she's been called to fulfill.
Somewhere in Ethiopia right now, there is an orphan crying.
Somewhere over the skies of Germany there is a girl flying.
Somewhere in America, there is a mom praying.
And the God of the universe is knitting all their hearts together as one.
Good thing that redneck surprise dessert was licked clean by someone else y'all. It's a good thing indeed.
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