A Year

This time last year Mark, Brycen, Regan, and I were boarded, buckled, and ready for take-off. Next stop: Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.
A Year.
I’ve grown more and more emotional as the anniversary of so many important dates has approached. I’ve sat and pondered over the days leading up to our trip, the years that brought so much upheaval and uncertainty, and the Sovereign One who ordained them all. I have been moved to tears countless times.
Jesus, You are faithful.
When I was on that plane exactly one year ago, I had no idea what laid before me. I was unsure of how Tyson would respond to us, uncertain as to how we would all respond to him, and a bit uneasy about not knowing how long we would be gone. The lack of commitment on the part of our kebele (the government agency in Ethiopia responsible for issuing birth certificates) to actually print the newly implemented system of doing adoption certificates , forced us to start our journey with little guarantees about how long it would take to complete the process. As I stare at photos of us on that plane, it delights me to no end that, looking back, I say with all certainty: we were embarking on the ride of our lives.
In hindsight, it wasn’t just about getting Tyson (but, holy cow, that part IS pretty amazing). It was also about seeing miracles happen right before our eyes. It was about watching Jesus “part the waters” for us to walk through on dry land where every human had said we wouldn’t make it. It was, what I thought would be, the end of a faith journey that had been six long years in the making. What I didn’t know was that the faith journey was just getting started! There were so many parts & pieces to this story that I couldn’t see coming. Flying over the ocean that day, my mind was distracted by the sheer fact that my life was never going to be the same. The fabric of our family was being woven by the same Skilled Artisan who’d started our family, but He was adding a new thread. It was sure to be beautiful, but I wasn’t sure how long it would take to feel cozy enough to curl up underneath and rest. But, I was ready for the fight of my life. In all His goodness, that Skilled Master Craftsman had spent years taking apart the former fabric and gently, kindly, and sometimes painstakingly, putting us back together in such a way that the addition of new, unfamiliar thread wouldn’t be so stark and harsh. In His kindness, He had prepared us, even more than I knew that day flying to the other side of the globe. Tearfully I am typing as the belly laughs of three McKeehan boys echo off the green plastic slide at the park. It still catches me by surprise while simultaneously seeming like it’s always been this way. Only Jesus does that. Taking time to weave our lives with such delicacy, intricacy, and tenderness that we can be overcome with gratitude for the new thing He’s crafting in us while also feeling like He redeemed every ounce of time we were certain the enemy had stolen along the way.
This very minute our brown-eyed youngest son,  just ran up, gave me a spontaneous hug, and started back off to join his brothers on the green slide. The smell of his strawberry (delicious) hair milk still lingers in the air around me. And in one second I can be back in the guesthouse, putting that hair milk into his brown, curly locks the very first time. The texture of his hair was new & unfamiliar. Insecurities about how to do his hair were swirling thick over me like a cloud. Today, I knew how much hair milk to have ready in my palms before he even strolled into the bathroom. He knows how to move his head from side to side to help me get it evenly dispersed & he knows when I need to use a smidge more! Time has a funny way of flying by, but also of remaining. Of passing by so quickly, but also feeling like some things never change. It seems to take away, but it also seems to give. Time can heal and renew, but it can also be a brutal reminder of gaping wounds that seem to never heal.

I’m going to spend the next twenty-five days giving a “rest of the story” to each of the entries I made on our trip last year. So, if you want to read about our traveling experience and how I was feeling just after going to visit Tyson for the first time, you can read it here. Tomorrow I will give a "year after" update on things I noted or mentioned in this first post after getting my hands on our boy.

I continue to be brought to tears at our community, who not only walked with us through the long years of waiting, but who have also never missed the first opportunity to love, serve, and pray for us since we arrived home. I literally cried talking about it last night in my Reckon group (small group). I continue to pray a 100-fold blessing over each of you for your faithfulness to trust Him with us.
For now, I’m enjoying all the belly laughs remembering that this time last year was the last day I’d live without having that sweet boy in my arms! Grateful. Humbled. Tearful. Jesus, you change everything!