One Year Later....

Occasionally, I'm inclined to believe that's how long I lag between posts. Despite uploading mobile blogger, which hates me, and my phone, in even measure, I suspect, I'm still not more faithfully blogging. I am living, so to choose, that's my go-to. ;) But the title is not a stab at self-deprecating humor....

One year ago, today, two little girls ceased to be orphans. Instead, they became precious, cherished, children. Sisters. Granddaughters. Friends. Classmates. .....

I remember trudging though, what seriously had to be, 3 feet of snow, in Fanny's little home town. (After a three plus hour drive, punctuated by every 45 minute stops....) Tearfully hugging her foster mom. Bringing along a reluctant little one.

And then climbing the stairs of the orphanage for Penny. Cold and forlorn, down a side street. Yet, though its history's dark, and its harm irreversibly done, there was warmth in her send off. 

We survived a week, cooped in a hotel room, with fevers and food refusals, uncertain if our collective sanity would hold up. Then the fevers broke, and the weather too. As though a hug from God Himself, we enjoyed a 50-60*'s mini-spring reprieve.  Found street level pizza, underground shops, ancient churches, and that Bulgarian sidewalks eat strollers. Fell head over heels in love, with two tiny girls, and their home country, and its people.

To bring the trip itself full circle, we arrived home, toe touching down in Dulles airport as newly minted American citizens AND the 1,000 & 1,001 Reece's Rainbow babies home, and then drove home in a blizzard by anyone's standards, stopping every 45 minutes so I could work out the last of the motion sickness from the flight's descent, in the form of vomiting up what felt like my very toe nails. *bleh*  (Marty, you're vindicated, just saying.)

The year has flown by, emotionally rising and falling like the waves of the ocean. Simultaneously exceeding expectations, and realizing that some things can never be restored this side of heaven.  Cheering victories, no matter how seemingly insignificant to the uninitiated observer, and weeping as I've held a child screaming and raging for hours on end, at an utter loss as to why the pain, and completely unable to relieve it. Learning first hand that every wound is not visible, and the invisible sometimes are the worst. We welcomed another sister, a 4th precious daughter, who loves Penny unconditionally, and unabashedly best. Word 3, before even Mama or Dada consistently? Peh-Peh.

We've had first times, and good times. Beaches, fairs, fire pits, and back yard BBQ's. Holidays and Christmas trees. Meeting cows, and other barnyard critters, as any once removed Farm girl Mama, is intentional about exposing her babies to. And we've cried with friends, who've said good bye to their precious Pleven treasures, cementing in our minds' and souls' that each day is a gift....and none is guaranteed.

So it has looked a little like this:

And that's only the first half of the year.....

To everything there is a season,
A time for every purpose under heaven:

² A time to be born,
    And a time to die;
A time to plant,
    And a time to pluck what is planted;
³ A time to kill,
    And a time to heal;
A time to break down,
    And a time to build up;
⁴ A time to weep,
    And a time to laugh;
A time to mourn,
    And a time to dance;
⁵ A time to cast away stones,
    And a time to gather stones;
A time to embrace,
    And a time to refrain from embracing;
⁶ A time to gain,
    And a time to lose;
A time to keep,
    And a time to throw away;
⁷ A time to tear,
    And a time to sew;
A time to keep silence,
    And a time to speak;
⁸ A time to love,
    And a time to hate;
A time of war,    And a time of peace.

Ecclesiastes 3 v1-8 (NKJV)