It is the night we are to leave, and I think this just may be the hardest part of the trip. We just tucked Imani and Andrew into bed, kissed them goodnight and told them we would see them in 10 days.
Now I know that it is much easier to say goodbye this way (at least for us), but it sure is gut-wrenching. I’m just in the other room and already I miss them. I know that I will have plenty of snuggles in a few days, but it’s going to be a long few days.
I also know that it is much better to leave the kids behind, where they will be spoiled rotten by grandma, grandpa and auntie, and where they will have their regular food, regular routine (3 and 6 is just too young to get the most out of international travel), but I also feel like we are somehow abandoning them so that we might bring Manyazawel and Mihret home.
It gave me new insight into the passage where Jesus talks about seeking the one lost sheep. “Does he not leave the ninety-nine... and go after the lost one until he finds it?" (Luke 15:9) I always thought it a beautiful passage about God’s love for the lost. I never thought of what it would feel like for him to leave 99 that he loves with all his heart so that he might begin that search. What wondrous love is this…
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