As we are nearing the one year anniversary of Mila's homecoming, I am taking time to reflect on a few days I hadn't had time to process in Albania...
I had a couple of non-traditional requests for our Gotchya Day...one was to walk from our adoption apartment to the orphanage (I really wanted to reclaim that holy walk that we left unfinished 93 days prior), and two was to have a celebration meal at our favorite Greek restaurant with our local Albanian friends & family. It took me a bit to figure out WHY I wanted these two things, specifically the meal, then it occurred to me that God always celebrates redemption with a feast. The wedding feast, the feast of the prodigal son, the feast that awaits us in Heaven when we all arrive and finally CELEBRATE.
I wanted a sit down meal to celebrate Kamila Naomi's adoption into our family. This year-long process had involved four crossings of the Atlantic Ocean, appeals to the Mother Superior General of the Missionaries of Charity Catholic Order in India, an emotionally (if not legally) corrupt Albanian judge, 1000 degree heat, epic rainstorms, over $60,000 and 93 days of not knowing when my daughter would be legally released into my arms. NO ONE on Earth could have foreseen the up hill battle to bring this one child and her extra chromosome into a family...but our God in Heaven knew every single moment. And through every one of those moments that dropped us to our knees to seek His wisdom, His will, His power through our weakness, He was glorified. THAT is what I wanted to celebrate (with some ahhhhh-mazing Greek food!)
We also needed a distraction. Mila had just left all that she had ever known to be given into the arms of the nice blue eyed lady who visited over the summer. She was so brave, but her final departure from the Sisters was on the side of a road in rush hour Elbasan traffic outside of a notary office. It was NOT ideal, but the final goodbyes needed to be said and there was no getting around it. She cried...hard. But she also leaned into her new mommy as I cried with her. I ushered her into the waiting van and let her wail into my chest as we drove to our first meal as a family. There is no way to describe the sacredness of that moment. I hold those precious broken tears of both my children on their Gotchya Days in a very special place in my heart.
Part of the distraction was her own camera--to take pictures of absolutely anything she wanted to. It was her Albania. Her adoption. Her grand adventure to the other side of the world. I wanted her to have control of something. She didn't have to share her camera and she didn't have to show her pictures. They were all hers. Thankfully, she did share them and I am honored to see what she saw during our Feast of Celebration that night...
Our Missionary friends...
I had a couple of non-traditional requests for our Gotchya Day...one was to walk from our adoption apartment to the orphanage (I really wanted to reclaim that holy walk that we left unfinished 93 days prior), and two was to have a celebration meal at our favorite Greek restaurant with our local Albanian friends & family. It took me a bit to figure out WHY I wanted these two things, specifically the meal, then it occurred to me that God always celebrates redemption with a feast. The wedding feast, the feast of the prodigal son, the feast that awaits us in Heaven when we all arrive and finally CELEBRATE.
I wanted a sit down meal to celebrate Kamila Naomi's adoption into our family. This year-long process had involved four crossings of the Atlantic Ocean, appeals to the Mother Superior General of the Missionaries of Charity Catholic Order in India, an emotionally (if not legally) corrupt Albanian judge, 1000 degree heat, epic rainstorms, over $60,000 and 93 days of not knowing when my daughter would be legally released into my arms. NO ONE on Earth could have foreseen the up hill battle to bring this one child and her extra chromosome into a family...but our God in Heaven knew every single moment. And through every one of those moments that dropped us to our knees to seek His wisdom, His will, His power through our weakness, He was glorified. THAT is what I wanted to celebrate (with some ahhhhh-mazing Greek food!)
We also needed a distraction. Mila had just left all that she had ever known to be given into the arms of the nice blue eyed lady who visited over the summer. She was so brave, but her final departure from the Sisters was on the side of a road in rush hour Elbasan traffic outside of a notary office. It was NOT ideal, but the final goodbyes needed to be said and there was no getting around it. She cried...hard. But she also leaned into her new mommy as I cried with her. I ushered her into the waiting van and let her wail into my chest as we drove to our first meal as a family. There is no way to describe the sacredness of that moment. I hold those precious broken tears of both my children on their Gotchya Days in a very special place in my heart.
Part of the distraction was her own camera--to take pictures of absolutely anything she wanted to. It was her Albania. Her adoption. Her grand adventure to the other side of the world. I wanted her to have control of something. She didn't have to share her camera and she didn't have to show her pictures. They were all hers. Thankfully, she did share them and I am honored to see what she saw during our Feast of Celebration that night...
Final pictures of the Sisters...
Our Missionary friends...
Our sweet Albanian friends...
These blurry, cheap digital camera photos are so precious to me. They are the images of redemption; of God's grace in all our lives; of the first memories of flam-ly my girl captured in her brain.
Feast of Celebration.
Attika Restaurant, Elbasan, Albania.
Monday October 22, 2018.
How priceless is your unfailing love, O God! People take refuge in the shadow of your wings. They feast on the abundance of your house; you give them drink from your river of delights. For with you is the fountain of life' in your light we see light.
Psalm 36: 7-9
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