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Butterflies

Even old people get butterflies.

As our newest little 9 year old points at the ceiling and out comes her first words in English to me.

Butterflies Momma,
Butterflies...

In the dead of winter with temperatures of 20 below I stare at the ceiling.  Not thinking I look up. In the spilt second in time my mind wonders.  Even in an orphanage a child can have humor and imagination.  Maybe being caught off guard or in the moment it makes a person think.

On the outside of this old worn out building a few dying bushes.  And from the street it looks like any other old building.

The caregivers and other children inside are the only family they had for years. This is the only place our children knew as home.

I love spring and soon butterflies will fill the air.  Maybe the Windows will open and a few of these fragile flying angels  will fly inside.  For many of these children seeing a butterflies will be only through a panel of glass.

This year marks 20 years of our travels to this country.  Twenty years of visiting orphanages.  Twenty years later the buildings still outdated and still full of children looking outside for butterflies.

Tonight my stomach is full of butterflies.  And in a few days I will be once again be staring at that same ceiling.  Will she still remember me? Will she understand why it took us so long to return to see the both if them?  What happens when we return back home and they remain another thirty plus days?

The process of adoption is not without a few butterflies along the way...
We must look up pass the ceiling and think one step at a time.  Even if only baby steps... Each of these small steps our Lord walks with us.

Please keep our family and these two children in your prayers.




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