Before I knew it, Julian’s eighteenth birthday arrived, another
bittersweet day. He finally entered adulthood, but that also meant huge
changes, including a loss of the only security he ever knew. He didn’t have any
idea how much longer he could stay in government care, and his social worker
had not even secured his college possibility yet.
After
finishing his technical school in November, he worked full-time as an
apprentice in the area he studied, Manufacturing of Leather Goods. He worked
for a famous purse retailer, making high quality, expensive leather purses in a
factory. He embraced the experience and learned a lot of responsibility, but it
made him long to study even more in order to do something more suited to his
actual artistic skills. His ambitious attitude made me proud, never settling
for less than he desired. Now only seven weeks separated us from finally
meeting face to face.
Time flew
after that point. As each day brought us closer to boarding a plane to Colombia,
I struggled with a variety of mixed emotions. So ready to meet Julian, I
constantly envisioned our first moment together. I could hardly wait to give
him that first hug, look into his eyes, and say, “I’m here. We’re finally here.
We made it.”
Yet the fact
he still knew nothing about where he would be made me more nervous every day.
Would he still live in the orphanage? Would they let him leave to see us? Would
we have permission to go there, considering Juan David still resided there on
weekdays as he continued to await his final adoption?
Some days I panicked and wondered if we’d make
it to Colombia at all--and perhaps not even get to see Julian after all we’d
planned. Would our trip even include him? Or would we visit the two ministries
we contacted and then spend our vacation exploring a new country as a family of
three? I knew deep in my heart God walked way ahead of us, but anxiety still
tormented me. Only a few weeks till our departure, yet I knew we’d gotten this
close to leaving for Colombia before. Anything could still go wrong.
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