Here I sit......9 days home. 9 days since I have seen those precious faces. 9 days since leaving an amazing and beautiful country that is oozing with God's love. 9 long days. 9 days and I am still sorting it all out.
It's hard. So hard. Hard to come home from seeing and hearing and feeling so much heartache and yet so much hope. Hard to be with such precious children and then just leave them. Hard to hold those sweet faces, praying you will hold them again soon..............but never truly knowing what the future holds for either of us. Praying. Hoping. Sorting........and holding onto every ounce of sanity I can muster so that I am not bawling my eyes out in the middle of Target again.
So I came home. I sat at the kitchen table with my precious husband. I started telling him random stories. I bounced from one thought to the next, no real connection between anything I was saying. Bless him. He sat attentively and hung on every word, every tear, every silent moment as I tried to regain my composure.......and even when I thought I had it, I knew I was still silently breaking inside. Because this time, God broke me in a new way. He broke me and He is going to put me back together like nothing I could imagine. I know this because I have faith. Faith that He has a plan for what He has shown me. A plan for me to be different than my same. Different to change me.
And I have struggled. Mostly silently. Sometimes I share with my sister how I almost broke down in Publix. I share with my hubby random thoughts......I usually only go so deep until I get a "what are you talking about?" kind of look and then I bounce back to being funny or witty. Because I get it. If you haven't seen it or experienced it you really can't "get it" sometimes. I mean you can be heartbroken and be sad.....but some things I believe you truly have to experience to really "get it".
So here I sit. 9 days later. Still struggling to sort it out. And I really need to sort through my 1600 pictures. There are so many waiting to see the faces of the children they love.......but whenever I open the file, I sob. I sob hard. I cry because I love them. I cry because I miss them. I cry because they have taught me so much and I am forever grateful for all the ways they have inadvertently enriched my life. I cry because I long to be a different kind of better me, because of them.
So the sorting of it all continues........and I can't help but wonder if I have really just been sorting it all out since I first saw Haiti almost 2 years ago?
