My baby girl is in love. With a country. Bryce's trip to Africa has changed her life. I knew it would. I knew she would come back broken. I became infatuated with Ethiopia years and years ago. I have read books about the culture, I have looked at thousands of pictures online of the landscape and the people. In recent years, I have scoured adoption blogs of people who have adopted from there and read their stories over and over and over. I love a place I have never even been and I have talked about it so much that all of my children have a curiosity about it, too.
Now, Bryce has been there. She has endured the endless flight. She has smelled the potent combination of diesel, animal waste, and coffee and she has and felt the dirt on her feet. She has heard the sounds - animal noises, honking horns, harsh voices talking in Amharic - sounding angry, even when they aren't. She has seen the faces of the beautiful people who live there, seen the joy that radiates from their very souls, and touched their beautiful cocoa colored skin. She has held their hands and washed their feet.
She is hopelessly smitten.
She left part of her heart on that continent and she is plotting her way back, even now. I truly think that if given the opportunity, she would be on the next flight over - one way. She is convinced God is going to call her to live there and I wouldn't be surprised. I have heard from her group leaders that she had a special grace about being there. Everyone in the group was not thrilled to be in Africa. Many were there out of pure and simple obedience. God told them to go and go they did. I admire them for that. Obviously, God had something for them to do and/or learn there. They obeyed and He was glorified.
Bryce, on the other hand, loved it all - even the horrible parts. She loved the food, she loved the sounds and smells. She loved, loved, loved the kids. Especially the older ones. The street boys that no one typically wants to engage. The older girls that have been through things that we can't even imagine. These were the ones who most tugged at her heart. Sure, she loved hugging on those little babies - their precious smiles lighting up the room. Sure, they were cute and cuddly, but everyone loves them. She felt God drawing her towards the ones usually overlooked. The older boys, who have been raised on the streets - skeptical, maybe even dishonest. The teenage girl who had been repeatedly raped and abused, but has now found her way to a place where she is getting help, learning about Jesus.
I am so proud of my girl. She got on that plane all by herself, with NO hesitation whatsoever. No anxiety about being with a group of people she didn't know for ten days. No reservations about whether or not God had called her to go. Now, she is home, but she is aching. She is in that place that we all must be at certain points in our lives. She is wrestling with what God showed her and what He wants her to do.
Sometimes I notice her, fingering the necklace that she wears all the time now. The one she bought in the country - a flattened piece of gold shaped like Africa. She rubs it and her mind goes back there - across the ocean to a beautiful, yet desperate place. A place that God has forever forged into her soul. A place where the poverty and destitution is overwhelmed by the deep, abiding joy that spills out of the people. People, unstained by the greed and excess of life in America. People that God has blessed immensely with His very presence. Oh, we may look like we have it all while they look destitute, but I think Bryce would agree that we have a lot to learn about what it means to trust God and live lives full of pure, unadulterated JOY.
Bryce's blog address is www.christianbryce.wordpress.com - please visit her there and hear about her experiences in her own words. She is a WAY better writer than her mom. You will be blessed.
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