A typical church prayer service turns into a life changing experience as the speaker anticipates being filled with the holy spirit
A quite prayer moment sparks a shared unexpected calling a adopt leading the couple to excitedly begin researching their new journey together. We were doing this, and we were all in! We started conversations with an international adoption agency in Texas within a few days. After a couple phone calls, we both felt like the agency wasn’t who we were supposed to work with, and the search began again.
Days later, I connected with an agency out of North Carolina, and they sent over log in information for the ‘waiting children’ they were advocating for. I forwarded the information to my husband. We knew we were searching for an older sibling group, so this is where we started.
choosing older sibling for adoption brings emotional struggle deep love long delay and renewed hope as the family finally receives confirmation the boys are safe
To minimize travel, the Bulgarian government had decided to do ‘virtual’ first trips. In mid-August, we finally ‘met’ our kids. We had five amazing days of video calls, where we got to know each other better, learned a bit about their personalities, and they all chose American names (Stephen, Daniel, Kevin, Michael, and Brian), and then reluctantly said ‘goodbye’ on our last day. I fell into my husband’s arms just sobbing. a sudden opportunity to visit Bulgaria fills them with joy as they finally get permission to meet their soon to be children in person
Our flight to Bulgaria was uneventful. 30 hours of constant mask-wearing was a small price to pay to spend time with our kids. We got to spend the weekend in the capital city of Sofia before heading off to the small mountain town where our boys’ group home was located. The mini vacation was great, and the city was gorgeous, but we really just wanted to go see our kids! Early on Tuesday morning, our in-country attendant and a driver picked us up and we started the 3.5-hour trek up the Rhodope Mountains.
It was very narrow, very windy road, which my anxiety was not looking forward to riding on again when we went to pick them up, but we finally made it to the quaint town they live in. We dropped our bags and waited for them outside. All the sudden, across the road, I recognized five handsome kids walking toward us. They all ran across the road, and we had the biggest family hug ever. The kids were nervous, we were nervous—it was amazing.
Over the next few days, we played a lot of soccer, we ate a lot of ice cream, they introduced us to some Bulgarian foods they loved, we taught them some English words, and all of us struggled and laughed through communicating without a common language. Thursday night, the boys’ social worker had a family dinner planned for us. It was a gorgeous evening.
The fresh mountain air hovered right around 70 degrees as the sun began to set. We ate a mouth-watering feast of regional food, had an arm-wrestling contest (much to the boys’ surprise, my husband won!), and shared lots of stories. Eventually, the younger boys got restless and went to jump on some trampolines the restaurant had in a small kid’s area. Twenty or so minutes passed, and I told my husband to go check and make sure they were okay. He came back and said, ‘They want you,’ so off our oldest and I went.
When I rounded the corner and was finally in their line of sight, they all started yelling, ‘Mama!!! Watch me!! Mama, come here!’ The only way I can describe hearing your older children call you ‘mama’ for the first time is just pure joy. I gave me butterflies then, and it still does. These kids weren’t adopted at two. They didn’t grow up calling me mom. They made a conscious choice to call me ‘mama.’ It’s a moment I will always cherish. It will live in my heart forever as one of my Favorite memories. That evening, we walked into the restaurant as prospective apotive parents and five orphans. We left as a family.
The next day came way too quickly; it was the day we had to say ‘see you soon.’ We spent the morning playing games and making a few last-minute memories, and then it was time to say goodbye. I fell apart again, but this time I was comforted by my sons, five amazing, smart, charismatic young men. Now we are back home, and thankfully we get to talk to our kids every Saturday morning. I would have given anything to scoop them up and bring them home that day, but it’s just now how the process works.
It’s been amazing how God has worked on our behalf through this entire process, even if His timing is slightly slower than we would have hoped. I’ll forever be thankful for His gentle push toward this amazing adventure. As I write this, we are almost to the finish line! All that’s left is a court date, and one more trip halfway across the world.
