When Joy and Sorrow Beautifully Yet Tragically Collide



The anticipation, of the last 9 months, of endless paper chasing culminating in my daughter being placed into my arms was finally within reach.  My heart ached that our kids could not go with us this time.  The mama hen in me likes all my kids safely tucked under my wings.    But alas, grandparents had arrived, detailed schedules and timelines were typed, freezers were stocked with pre-made meals, countdown goodie bags were numbered and neatly lined up on the table, to be opened each day until our return.  Outfits were laid out and labeled for each day (I know....a little much!). The kids were set.
 
As I handed my passport, with my visa safely tucked inside, to the tsa officer my heart pounded with excitement.  I was about to board a plane to meet the child I had prayed for for 5 years.   God's faithfulness to me, as He taught me so many lessons during this time of waiting, was so apparent.   It wasn't until my full surrender that He allowed this child to be mine.   What a beautiful picture of God's kindness.

Off to China we flew.  This time around I knew to get up and stretch.  I knew to wear compression tights so I actually had ankles when I got there.  I knew to drink lots of water, not soda!  This time I was so prepared.  I had done this before.

We landed in Hong Kong in the evening.  Hong Kong is a special city to me.  Not only is it my husband’s birthplace, it's where I turned 40!  It is the NYC of China.  I love it there; the sights, the sounds, and even the smells. (Ok, let's be real....not ALL the smells!) It's such a vibrant internationally diverse city.  Very different from mainland China in many ways.

We took a shuttle to our hotel, got settled in.  As we stretched out for the night, it didn't even bother us that the bed was rock hard.  We were too exhausted and excited for the next two coming weeks to care.  Sleep came easily that night, but little did I know that was all about to change.

The next morning, I don't remember the time, Tom got a call on his cell phone.  I heard him talking in the bathroom and even though I couldn't tell what was being said I could tell it wasn't good.  I assumed it was our dog or something like that and tried to go back to sleep.  Tom came in and sat on my side of the bed and gently woke me up.  I was not prepared to hear what he was about to tell me.  But then again, are we ever prepared to hear tragic news?

"Drew passed away last night". I can still hear those words ringing out like a bell and then hanging over me like a dark heavy cloud.     And just like that, my baby brother was gone.

Instantly my body began shaking.  Not from tears, I was still much to in shock for those to start flowing yet.  I started asking all the questions "What? Why?  When?  How?  This can't really be happening.   I'm in China.......you know......the other side of the world".  A sense of helplessness covered me like a heavy wet blanket.  I'm not home to be with my parents or my other brother. Do I get back on a plane and fly home immediately?  I have a child here that needs me. I can't leave her.  The questions and thoughts were swirling like an angry tornado in my head.

I got on the phone with my parents and the tears came.  During the next 3 weeks I learned that I don't have a short supply of tears.  I more notably have an endless supply.  My parents encouraged me to stay and get Fallon.  “That is what Drew would have wanted”, they said.  He was so excited about her.  My family assured me they would wait until we returned to have the funeral.  I was thankful.  I needed that closure.

I called my best friend, who was also in China adopting her baby and told her.  We cried together on the phone.  I told her of my uncertainty about whether I should fly home or not and she also assured me I was doing the right thing to get Fallon first.

It was Thursday morning and we still had 4 days until we were to get Fallon.  Those were hard HARD days for me.   I questioned how could I even show excitement anymore?  It seemed to me that I was dishonoring the grief of my brother's death.  But how could I be sorrowful when I get this baby I've prayed for, for so long.  I got a message from a friend that said I could have 100% grief and 100% joy at the same time.  God made us incredible like that.   I have to admit, I still wasn't convinced.  As even smiling in pictures the first few days, felt yucky to me.  I was mourning and on autopilot to get through.  Tom did a great job keeping us busy throughout the weekend.  I would randomly burst into tears.  Tom was always there to grab my hand or wrap his arms around me and comfort me.  Never making me feel bad about my battling emotions.

We arrived in Guangzhou (the capital of our daughters Provence) on Sunday.  My best friend was there to greet me.  We hugged, we cried, we talked.  I was still concerned about the next day.  What if I couldn't find the joy?  What if this sweet girl rejected me and hated me?  Could my heart handle it on top of everything else?   I was fairly certain it could NOT.

I didn’t sleep well Sunday night.  Anticipation and fear got the best of me.   I pray into the night and throughout Monday morning that God would let me have joy in the moment.  That my daughter wouldn’t sense the grief deep in my soul but that she would only feel the love and longing I have had for her for years.

As we entered the SWI building where I would meet my sweet Fallon, my heart was pounding with excitement but I had a sense of peace I couldn’t explain.   The joy I felt when she was placed (screaming bloody murder) in my arms, was overwhelming.   I loved this baby with all my heart.   God allowed us to be her parents.  It was amazing. 

Over the next couple of weeks, she had her moments of grieving and crying.  I honestly view them as a gift.   As I held her crying and grieving in my arms, It allowed me the opportunity to cry and grieve myself, without scaring her.   And then we would dry our eyes and be enveloped by joy and laughter.   It was an amazing collision of Joy and Sorrow, that until experienced, I never would have though possible.  Only God.

When we returned home, we headed up to Indianapolis almost immediately for Drew’s funeral.   I walked in the house to find a lifetime (which sadly was only 24 years) of pictures of my baby brother spread across the dining room table.   We looked through them, remembering stories that went along with each snapshot.   We laughed, because Drew was quite the character.   We cried, because we knew this was the end of our memories with him.   I missed him.   I wanted to hug him again.  I wanted to tell him I love him again.   I wanted more time with him.

At his funeral, everyone had a story of rememberence.  It was nice to hear all the fond memories.    Every now and then I would turn around and watch the slideshow playing on the screens behind me.   And tears flowed and flowed as I saw pictures of my baby brother flash one after another.   So many memories.  I think my brother Matt and I went through a whole box of Kleenex in that receiving line.

Today marks 2 years that Drew has been gone.  Tears well up in my eyes as I type these words.   TWO YEARS.   It’s hard to believe.   I talk to my kids about him all the time.   Remembering things he used to do.  The way he used to eat his food…..everything smothered in Ranch dressing.  Helping them not forget memories with him.   They all loved their Uncle Drew.   I loved my brother Drew.

Today as I was on my way home from dropping my son off at work, King of My Heart came on the radio.  My barely turned 4 yr old started singing “You are Good, Good, Good” at the top of her lungs.   I videoed it.   Tears flowing again as it was the perfect song.   Sometimes with waves crashing around us, with fires that seem may envelop us, with pain that feels like it’s choking us the only things you can do is scream over the chaos, at the top of your lungs……..YOU ARE GOOD, GOOD, GOOD!!!
He is a Good Good Father.  His ways are not our ways.  But He will get the glory in all things and I know lives and hearts were touched by Drew’s death and God was and still is glorified.  To God Be the Glory.



King of My Heart
John Mark McMillan
Let the King of my heart
Be the mountain where I run
The fountain I drink from
Oh-oh, He is my song
Let the King of my heart
Be the shadow where I hide
The ransom for my life
Oh-oh, He is my song
Let the King of my heart
Be the wind inside my sails
The anchor in the waves
Oh-oh, He is my song
Let the King of my heart
Be the fire inside my veins
The echo of my days
Oh he is my song
You are good, good, oh-ohh
You are good, good, oh-ohh
You are good, good, oh-ohh
You are good, good, oh-ohh
You're never gonna let
Never gonna let me down
When the night is holding onto me
God is holding on

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