Early this morning, I put my Big Guy and my Little Guy into a taxi before the sun came up and sent them off to the airport. 

And now they are in Kenya at a conference that I was looking forward to…for years, actually.  Our mission’s All-Africa Conference that happens only once every two years, when all the missionaries from all over Africa come and meet together.  And national pastors come too–strong men of God with incredible faith and amazing stories.  And we get excellent teaching and music and encouragement and prayer. 

Deep conversations with like-minded friends.  Strategic planning for the future.  Excitement at what God is doing all over Africa. 

And they’re at Brackenhurst.  One of those lush, green, cold, mountainous conference centers with great food that I don’t have to cook, and a kids’ program, and no sweating.  I’ve been looking forward to going back since 2007. 

But here I sit, in my bedroom.  Sweating.  And I cooked my own dinner.

It’s all because of this little sweetie. 

Lily’s adoption has yet to be finalized.  And we can’t get her a passport until then, which means she can’t leave the country.  Which means I can’t leave the country.

I suppose it’s not unheard of to let a three-year-old stay with friends for five days.  But not when the particular three-year-old has only been in the family for 8 months.  The bonds that hold us are still quite fragile.  And I’m not willing to take that risk.

My wonderfully sweet husband offered to let me go instead of him, back when we realized that this would happen.  He knew how much I wanted to go to this conference.  But for a number of reasons, we knew it would be best for him to go.

I got over my pity-party a while ago, so I’m not feeling too terribly sorry for myself tonight.  Because you know what?  Lily is totally worth it.  Not for one moment would I change my mind about anything that led up to this. 

And so it’s just us girls in the house this week:  Grace, Lily, Sam, and me.  Even the dogs are girls, including the one we are dog-sitting for another friend who went to Kenya.  No stinky boys allowed.  (Sigh….except I’m going to miss those stinky boys an awful lot.)