Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Control Freaks and Adoption

There is no greater proof that God has a sense of humor than the fact he puts adoption in the heart of control freaks like me. There is SO nothing worse. No only are you not able to control the process, but the people that do are usually control freaks too.

But I digress from the point of this post. When I was going back to Russia for court to pick up Buddy every single flight I was on was delayed...and there were a lot.

My town to Chicago
Chicago to Frankfort (where my bags were lost)
Franfort to Moscow (changed airports)
Moscow to Vladivostok

That was how it was supposed to go. I left my town on Monday morning and I didn't arrive in Vladivostok until Wednesday after 8 pm. And I didn't stay the night anywhere.

On Tuesday night I finally boarded the plane to Vlad from Moscow. I thought I was finally going to get there. We flew for 9 or 10 hours and I was the only English speaking person on board. All of the announcements at the airport and on the plane were in Russian.

I'd been to Vlad before and when the plane touched down I didn't know where I was, but I knew I wasn't in Vladivostok. It was a holiday and everyone on the plane had been drinking red wine and eating Pringles. Needless to say, they were very tipsy and many were making use of the airsick bags. Several fell down the stairs from the plane. Cheers broke out when they righted themselves at the bottom.

I followed everyone into the terminal which was really just an unheated room. The temperature in Siberia in January was well below zero. Out the door I could see a dog eating a frozen bird on the runway. I still had no idea where I was. I couldn't even read the signs. The Russian alphabet is NOT like ours.

Some of the people left the building and others stood around to wait. I wasn't sure what was going on, but I figured it was my best bet to wait with them. When I didn't show up, surely someone would try to find me.

I waited for an hour or so, then I went to the kiosk in the corner and bought something to drink, which in hindsight was a mistake because I then had to use a fairly frightening bathroom. I walked around and pointed at my watch, then flapped my arms like a bird and said Vladivostok but mostly I just got shrugs and blank stares.

At the point when all of your understanding and ability to communicate is stripped from you, there's nothing left to go on except faith. I was scared, didn't know who these people were, snatched from everything that was familiar to me surrounded by a language I didn't understand and had no away to communicate. Kind of like the baby I was picking up.

I had to have faith that God was going to take care of me like I was going to take care of Buddy. I was scared but I had to trust. There was nothing else to do.

I evenually followed the crowd and got to Vladivostok. I was greated by my translator, driver and one of my bags. I went to court. I picked up Buddy.

A lot has happened since that day, but I hope I never forget what it felt like to rely on faith alone. I hope God doesn't have to go to such an extreme again to get my attention.

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