you have been lost

there is an expression here that i love.

when ever people haven't seen you in a while, people who are used to seeing you around, in life, they say, "you have been lost!" or if it's been a really long time, they might say, "you have been so lost!"  like many things, this used to annoy me, but has become endearing.  i used to feel judged.  i used to think 'lost' implied that i was somehow misguided, when actually i knew exactly where i was.  but i think, most of the time, i have been lost.

i'm sitting here alone at the colline hotel restaurant where i've escaped. i'm looking out at the mukono sky, past a giant prickly cactus, the same prickly cactus i sat and looked past 3 and a half years ago when we were deciding that we should begin the process of moving here. 

if life were a washing machine, i'm in the spin cycle. things are moving fast and attempting to dry, but going around and around and around- quickly. life feels spinney. things go by quickly, weeks become months, and i wonder where i am and where have i been?  have i been lost?

this week i watched casablanca again. i LOVE that movie and i love it more each time i see it.  'who are you and who were you before that?'.....exactly.

this week on tuesday, we spent 9 hours in our lawyers office waiting for and then interacting with rose's birth mom as we went over again what are everyone's goals and desires for rose- in three languages. 

it was all emotions.  it was beautiful and painful and achey and stretching and growth producing and right and fighting-back-the-tears-hard.  it was the full spectrum of feelings- from 'walk away and let her be with her birth mother' to 'grab her and run' to finally landing on 'sit here with this and be in this hard place because this is her story and it's the right thing to do'.

rose ran and jumped in magdalenes arms and sat there for an hour- connecting with her- watching her- checking her out- and looking at me for the 'it's okay' look- which i tried to give with my no-poker face.  rose ran between us, calling us both 'mom' as we looked at each other, unable to speak and understand each other, smiling and thankful for the other- but wondering what this was going to look like for the next few decades.  the woman who birthed her, left her; and the woman who found her, and wants to keep her, but keep her knowing the woman who birthed her too.

mike and i both wondered who we are and who were we before? we wondered why we've entered in to this, what we were thinking, why we always seem to get 'hard' and even to chose 'hard' when we have a say?

the day dragged on. and on.  spin cycle like.  finally mike had to leave and go get the other kids from school- rose and i remained.  he returned with the three blonde heads in uniform, and a lot of meat samosas. and there it was. this crazy broken mixed up family.  everyone met everyone.  everyone hugged or shook hands, zoe attempted to sign language her way through the history of rose and her landing with us. jude showed his toy animals he'd found in the car and shared the words in english and learned the words in karmajong with rose's birthmom's husband.  bryn shared his bread roll and rose clarifed to zoe that magadalene was her mom- not zoe's mom. pictures were shared, pictures were taken and in it's full confusion and full of unknownness and lack of full conclusion- it was beautiful- because rose felt loved.  so loved.  because many people had come together.  because each of those kids, blonde or brown, will have their own story of this life we've created together. and it's messy and awkward and painful and hard and truly beautiful too- beautiful in a way that it couldn't be if it were tidy and neat and tucked in.

in the middle of the day, i reminded mike that mountains are much more beautiful than molehills.  but they are much harder to climb- he replied.  but think of the view- i responded.

this week was ash wednesday.  the beginning of lent.  the season of reflection and repentance and renewal and redemption. all these "r"s are important. i don't even know where i am in this.  somewhere at the beginning. somewhere in reflection- thankful i have 6 weeks- to slow down the spin cycle.  to reflect on where i have been? on who i am and who i've become and who i was was before that? to reflect on if i've been lost- or so lost.  and so thankful for the shepherd who finds me where ever i am.

so i will take this week, almost over, in it's bigness and smallness, and it's hardness and it's challenge, and all the pieces in between that i'm either too tired to share or have forgotten.  i will remember that i need to stop the spin cycle and rest- i need to turn off the phone and reflect- i need to ask the questions and wait on the answers- i need to be thankful that papers were signed- decisions were made- rose will continue with us- and we will continue to be in her life- to know her as she is now, and who she was before that. 

in these places, in these years, in these meetings whether lawyers offices or northern village huts- this is our story now- we are not lost.