The dread and joy of leaving & arriving.
My bags were loaded in the trunk of the hatchback and I quietly slipped back inside the house and made my way to Rowan’s door.
I put my ear against the cold painted wood and listened – I could hear him breathing heavily in his sleep on the other side. I turned the knob slowly and walked in, the hallway light just barely warming the room.
Standing next to the crib, I saw his back rise and fall with each deep breath he took.
I sat down on the carpet and pressed my forehead against one of the slats of crib. There he was, I could see him clearly through the planks. His face puffy with sleep, eyes closed, cheeks flushed pink.
I knew from the moment I said yes to going on this trip that I would find myself in this place. Sitting on the carpet, trying to get my face as close to his as I could, just one last time before walking out the door. I knew that I would have to say goodbye to my son in order to find help for even just one more child in Bolivia.
The goodbyes always carry dread. Tears flow hot and my own breath is caught in my lungs and I tighten my chest to keep the sobs from barreling out of my mouth.
But with the dread of goodbye, I anticipate deep joy.
I’ll be with a team of nine others and we’ll visit and love and see how lives are changed through World Vision. Not only do I feel deeply connected to my fellow travelers, I know I am partnering with the One who sustains.
He is already doing a great work in here Bolivia. I’m just along for the ride. And that, my friends, is a joy to know and believe.
So now, I type this from an altitude of 13,000 feet in La Paz, my legs spread stretched on a hotel bed and my luggage strewn about the room.
I’m tired, my bones ache from the hours of sitting, I have a 4:30am wake-up call and the air here is thin. But, we’re here. We’ve made it into the country with absolutely no problems and I am praising God for it all.
And with a full heart bursting at the seams, I’m going to bed.
More soon. Next stop, Cochabamba.