Continued from yesterday . . .
His jaw clenches and the little vein below his right eye is swollen- the way it does when he is thinking hard. Him thinking hard always means he is talking little.
And then he says it. He says what will make me cry.
I fall more - without a net . . .
When the man I love was young, barely eighteen but still eighteen, he made a bad decision. He chose to take what did not belong to him. He chose to steal. Felony. The word and the memory and the consequences have followed him to this day. The part of his life he chose to destroy God chose to use to make him a better man.
We can't take Natasha, this Natasha or any other like her. Orphans can't find their way into our family this way.
But this man I love is beautiful.
And there are other ways. God always makes a way.
Our food comes. Hot toast, eggs, bacon, and grits. He takes my hand and thanks God. He asks for wisdom in this decision. He begs to stay in His will.
We eat while I feel helpless to decide and his jaw clenches.
I want to scream to everyone around me that he deserves more than what is in this envelope. That he deserves more of a truck than this is going to buy. That the callouses are from years and years of hard work. I want to scream that he doesn't have the motorcycle or the boat or the four wheeler. He just has four children and this wife he allows to stay home.
And then he says it . . .
Rie, I know what to do. I'm going to buy the other truck and we are going to give the thousand dollars to help bring Natasha home.
The tears fall. They start so quickly and I take my orange juice and drink. I can't stop them. I can't speak. I drink juice again. I hope the burn of the acid in my throat will stop the tears.
He never says a word. He sits and lets me cry while the city of Amite eats breakfast all around me. Orders are shouted out and coffee is poured and I cry while he quietly waits.
I kiss him out of the corner of my mouth. I can't look at him. I'm falling hard and I didn't think there was anywhere left to fall. There is no net and I fall deep into his love and if I look I won't be able to catch myself and I'm wondering how far can a woman fall for a man?
He was listening last night. He was listening as I rambled on about what was weighing my heart and as I desperately tried to get his mind off worry and make conversation for a two hour trip with a man that is sometimes content to be too quiet. A man that needs a work truck to feed his family and knows the cash in that envelope is not enough.
A man with concern. And God spoke and he listened and the worry flew like the wind.
The orange juice doesn't help and I take his hand and we walk out. I know his mind is made up and he will find a way to make it work and I proudly fall.
What we cannot do we can help others do. God spoke it to him and he listened. In spite of my noise he was quiet and heard the voice of God.
He is taking less to give more. This world screams move forward and my love chooses to go backwards as my love falls further.
I pray so many things for her. Not the least is that she may fall one day into a man as good as the one who is loving less so he can be one small vessel in her fighting chance.
Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves; ensure justice for those being crushed. Yes, speak up for the poor and helpless, and see that they get justice. Proverbs 31:8,9
Our Adoption Journey