April 25, 2008
…would unfortunately, still stink.
We gather in a dimly lit hotel lobby, some people clutching plastic cups of coffee as though their lives depended on it. There is the low murmur of voices, stilted conversation, someone laughs loudly then is abruptly silent and through it all, a slight awkward tension prevails.
We gather in a large conference room. To learn. To discuss. To perhaps, if we are lucky, connect with one another. This is not my usual scene, nor I am sure, is it anyone’s, but it is something we must do. Something deemed correct in a world that is becoming more and more uniform in it’s absolute correctness.
We listen to many people share their often heartbreaking stories and the circumstances that led them to choose to adopt a precious child from an unknown land, a child so desired that the obstacles to be overcome become minor when measured against the end result.
What is the end result? Put as simply as possible, it is love. It is the beauty of human life, the beauty of touching and knowing a human soul. It is perhaps recognizing that nothing in this world belongs to us alone anyway and therefore we are so amazingly free.
This weekend, we have the second segment of our adoption course, or as I think of it, group therapy session. I personally don’t enjoy sitting in a circle for hours on end discussing my innermost thoughts, in fact a small part of me views it as an advanced method of psychological torture. But I will do it and try to remember it is one more tiny step in the right direction and someday I will look back and laugh at my needless worry. Or else I won’t be able to recall any of this because I’ll have blocked it from my memory as people occasionally do with traumatic events.;)