The book launching party is happening in a few days. Looking forward to sharing the joy of adoption, what it means to us, how we got here… And answer questions.
I am experiencing a whirlwind of activities and emotions. But of all things I’ve been involved with, writing this book and talking about it has come most naturally to me.
As I sense I’m getting ahead of myself, I stop to ponder: Why am I doing this? Why am I here? What’s the big picture? I can easily lose myself in shallow talk if I don’t stay grounded.
Incursion into the past, down the memory lane… I went once waterskiing in California. I was a student and I went to a beautiful lake named Don Pedro, on a weekend. It was over 100 F. I was enthralled with the experience. I got up on all kind of wakeboards, waterski, speed buoy, even an inflatable flying manta ray. The boat pulling me would have to speed in order for me to get some lift. The inflatable manta ray, if controlled well, would fly. I could care less about it flying. Because I fell once and the helmet flew off my head; it was a painful water landing. So I would push all my body weight on the manta ray. I would try to keep in down. And what do you know? It kept flying steady. For minutes. Another boat we didn’t know turned around and cheered on the side, because my huge inflatable manta ray would fly steadily 2 m above the water. I won’t say I wasn’t pleased at the end that I didn’t start and stop, falling off the thing, (for the sake of the boat driver and me) but the ride was wild. I never thought I did anything special, until all the boys in the boat taking their turn tried to show off, pulling the manta ray as if it was a horse or a bull, and the manta ray would flip. Every few seconds the boat would have to stop and turn around to the get the guys. I told them all I did was try to keep it down instead of trying to lift it. They didn’t listen. Alas, I remember the commitment with which I had to try to stay grounded, low, humble.
A brilliant painter blessed me with his art and few words. I had to stop and think if I included in my book the concept of grafting. I have often used the analogy of grafting when talking about adoption. It turns out it was coincidence and inspiration. The fruit of a grafted tree is fantastic, though the process of joining together is painful and a nothing short of a miracle. But we are all grafted in the Vine, and we have been adopted through Christ in order to call God, our Father.
I also learned today that a dear friend of J. took the book to school, and the teacher read it to all the 3rd grade students. What a testimony. My work is complete. Anything else is a bonus. If thirty kids heard J’s voice, they heard the heart of an adoptee, loud and clear, here in our city, where talking about adoption is whispered and uncertain, where assumptions are made, uninformed opinions are shared and goofs happen, God’s name was honored and adoption was brought up.