Flashback...

Our church is getting ready for Orphan Sunday, and they asked those of us who have adopted to share a short story about our process.  Keyword...SHORT.  I wrote like 3 different ones until I decided that I would write about the night before we met our son for the first time.  We will have a whole year with Owen on the 26th of this month, and I so enjoyed spending the time thinking of that night.  None of us had a clue what we were in for!  But, looking back...I don't think it could have been any better!
I thought it would be neat to share the story with my fellow housewives!  Hope you enjoy!

The streets are made of red dirt.  The air is thick and filled with the smell of burning rubber.  This is so different than I thought it would be.  It is our first night in Kampala, Uganda…and we are supposed to be sleeping in the guest house of Sanyu Babies Home.  But, I just can’t.  My daughter is on the other side of the world.  My son, whom I have never met, is laying in the building next to us.  Is he one of the kids crying?  Or is he fast asleep?  Does he have any idea of what is going to happen in the morning?  That he is going to meet his Mommy and Daddy?  The thoughts in my head are overwhelming!  Time to pray…Lord…bring me peace.  Be with us as we meet. 

I make it through the night, with help from my fast asleep husband who only wakes up to pray with me.  “It is going to be OK”, he says.  Though I can’t help but think that I will ever be “OK” again. 

But, because of our amazing God, the sun rises and with it…we do too.  We walk next door and see 52 of the most beautiful, fragile, smiling, giggling…fatherless and motherless babies. 

But THAT one…Owen Mukisa…he is NOT an orphan.  He is ours.  And he is perfect.