Tuesday November 13th, 2012, aka the day we met our Elizabeth…

“Today’s the day!  We were picked up at 9am by our translator ,”J”, for a crazy ride to the orphanage.  The roads were treacherous at best, and there were people everywhere.  Police with huge weapons abound, and yet I somehow feel no danger.  We arrived at the orphanage thinking that we were moments away from meeting Elizabeth, but alas we’re informed by “Pastor L” that she’s been living at his house with Prince since their arrival from Bukavu.  I’m surprised and grateful.  So, I jump right in with the kids, feeling completely in my element.  Oh, how I loved those kids.  I was particularly struck by two children who just arrived yesterday, both severely malnourished.  Prior to their arrival yesterday, they are said to have been eating one meal every three days.  Oh, my heart.  I can’t stop thinking of them.  But they eat.  They all happily eat the corn porridge and bread.  After lunch, I do quick exams on all of the children.  They are all so eager to be examined, silently and patiently waiting for their turn.  We play and love and leave with full hearts.

Now, it’s time to meet our baby girl!  We pull up to the “Pastor L’s” home, and I’m overwhelmed with excitement.  No nerves.  Simply joy.   I immediately lay my eyes on Elizabeth’s face as I walk in the front door. She is held by “Pastor L’s” daughter and is beautiful.  I laugh.  No tears, only laughter and a huge smile and joy-filled heart.  I hold her and recognize her as mine.  Ours.  She’s so familiar.  Not only because we’ve stared at her pictures for months… a different kind of familiar.  Like the Lord has knit our lives together in a holy way that only He can explain and understand.  I feel God’s presence in that surreal and life-altering moment in such a tangible way.  The moments there are sweet and yet fleeting.  We kiss Elizabeth goodbye for a few minutes so that the “L” family can personally drive her to our hotel.  It’s simply not safe to travel through those crowds and slews of rifle-toting police with a white couple and one of “their” babies.  So they bring Elizabeth to our hotel room and we are reunited.  She is quiet.  So quiet.  And scared.  I hold her and tell her over and over again how much we love her.  We give her water and food and stare in awe.  She sleeps.  I’m certain that sleeping is her coping mechanism right how in light of all of this change overwhelming her.  So she sleeps and we stare.  This is our daughter, and God is good.”