Introductions are tricky things.
Here is a new person: wonderful, broken, and beautiful; here is a new relationship: laughter, frustration, and love; here is a new adventure: exhilarating, terrifying, and enchanting. All that potential, all that unknown, and all you have are words — four simple, small words — to unlock it.
Once upon a time.
“Hello, I am Isabelle.”
Herein lies the power of the unknown. Herein lies the start of a grand adventure. Herein lies the chance of love and friendship, of rejection and betrayal, of confusion and annoyance. All this, started by a simple introduction, by simple words.
But what happens when I can’t tell you those words? When you don’t understand? When all you see is an unfamiliar face, coming and bothering you with its strange sounds? How can I know you when I can’t talk to you? How can I reassure you when everything around you is different? When you leave those you’ve known, when you’re surround by the unfamiliar, when everything seems chaos and confusion and changed? When my words are rendered useless, how can I tell you I love you? When the beginning of the story can’t be said, how can the rest continue?
Because I do. I don’t know you. I don’t know whether you’ll be shy and quiet. I don’t know whether you’ll loud and boisterous. But I already love you. I’ll love you as we cuddle together in the depths of the couch, reading aloud the book that was my favorite when I was little. I’ll love you as I choke down my laughter as you impishly grin and do *precisely* the thing Mom told you not to.
Because you’ll be ours. You already are. You just don’t know it yet. Our stories and yours are one. You’ll learn to laugh at Dad’s ditties. You’ll learn to lisp out sounds on Mom’s lap. You’ll hopefully come dance around the house with me. And with such a magnificent influence in us siblings, there’s absolutely no way you’ll be the most sarcastic one of the bunch.
Because you — you are loved. You are chosen. And you weren’t the only one. God chose us too, to be adopted as sons through Jesus Christ. (Eph 1:5) We weren’t His genetic sons either, for we were not born to him of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God. (John 1:13) But that doesn’t make us any less His sons. He still loves us intensely, immensely, infinitely — and we pray to do much the same to you.
Wo ai ni, di di. I love you, my little brother. Just 12 more days till you’ll be home. Just 12 more days until the true beginning of our story.
Ladies and Gentlemen, I’d like to introduce to you the newest member of our family, Xander! We will be traveling very soon to bring him home from China, and we’d appreciate your prayers for us as we journey. Since I will be out of country, and then busy trying to catch up on sleep and baby-flirting and last-minute studying for BB Nationals, it may be a few weeks before I have time to post again. Thank you for your patience and prayers!