Solitude

“I find it wholesome to be alone the greater part of the time. To be in company, even with the best, is soon wearisome and dissipating. I love to be alone. I never found the companion that was so companionable as solitude.”
  – Henry David Thoreau, Walden

©Nissa Gadbois

I find I’m becoming more introverted as I get older. Friends and family, who know me well, will tell you that I am an extrovert to a power of ten.  I love people.  But more and more, I feel I need to love people quietly.  More and more, I feel I need to draw into my own small circle with those I love most and just be together.

I long for a time when I can visit long and deep with a good friend, maybe two.  I long to meet with some of the wonderful men and women that modern technology has brought into my life.  But so few.  So very few.  It seems, sadly, that the only place I can visit with those people is in a very bright, very loud café, constantly interrupted. I want to focus on the heart of my companion, to talk about meaningful things, to laugh together, or to sit in silent contemplation, joining hearts and hands, making memories that sustain us both.

I want to be far from the hubbub that is current society.  It’s all too loud, too angry, too brash, too rude.  I feel wounded and I need to make sense of it all.  Here.  In solitude.

“In order to understand the world, one has to turn away from it on occasion.” –  Albert Camus

But I leave the door open to kind-hearted friends and acquaintances who want to come to call – through this space and in real life. 

Icon of the World

“If geography is prose, maps are iconography.” Lennart Meri
 

©Nissa Gadbois

©Nissa Gadbois

©Nissa Gadbois

©Nissa Gadbois

It has been a light week here since we finished our main lesson block on Tuesday.  So today, Louis and Sophie made up a game to play with the United States map.  It’s rather like that game you play with a group of dots where each player takes a turn making a line between two dots and the one who closes the box claims it.  Louis won this time ’round.

And then Louis spent some time tracing rivers and highways.  We talked some about our friend Fran who walked the entire length of Route 20 from Albany (Oregon) to Boston in 2012.

Then the older kids worked together to locate both state and national capitals.  And then made the map of the world look like a nice game of Global Thermonuclear Warfare.  It was at once amusing and slightly unsettling.  The winner for the longest range missile is Tonga, which managed to reach Japan going round the long way.

Geography was my favourite subject growing up and I’m extremely gratified that my own children are having so much fun with it, too.

In case you’re curious, our pretty maps are from National Geographic, and our frames are from Michael’s.  The latter are wood with a plastic sheet to protect the maps.  We just use regular dry erase markers.

Pieces of Our Hearts

Today is one year.  One year since we walked into that orphanage in a tiny Bulgarian village and our world changed forever.

For many families, the day that they arrive at the orphanage (or foster home) to pick up their child(ren) is a happy day to be celebrated every year.  But when you adopt an older child – a much older child – it’s a day that is bittersweet to commemorate.  It is the day on which they are rescued.  It is the beginning of a new life, a second chance.  It is a full ride to the School of Love.

But it costs them everything. 

It is the day on which they’ve lost all that they know.  Everything.  It is devastating.  They have lost their language and culture, they’ve lost all of their friends, they’ve lost familiar surroundings, and any adult they had come to trust.  They’ve lost the possibility of being reunited with their birth family.  No matter what we are to our children, how much we love them, how hard we try to keep language and culture alive, we are not replacements for those people and things they’ve lost.  They are being saved from a life they (please, God) will never truly understand.  But they won’t know that until they are grown, until they are themselves parents.  Perhaps they will never fully appreciate what they have lost and gained.

It takes a great measure of bravery for these kids to keep their heads up and move on into a new life about which they know nothing.  It takes enormous strength to leave behind little pieces of their hearts and give the rest to someone new.  Some kids, particularly much older ones, can never give the rest of their hearts to their new families.  They cling desperately to the remains.  They don’t know that this act of preservation isn’t saving them at all.  They slowly die inside.  Only they can choose whether to love or not.  Some never choose love.
 ©Nissa Gadbois

©Nissa Gadbois

And us? 
We left pieces of our hearts behind in Bulgaria, too.  One child in particular became very special to us throughout the process of adopting Nick and Olivia.  We left the orphanage that day knowing that we might never meet again this side of Heaven.  And we loved each other well.  We smiled and we laughed, we hugged and we kissed.  We held hands.  And we wept.  We sobbed as we tore pieces of our hearts off and handed them to each other.  And it remains one of the most enduring and precious memories I have. 

©Nissa Gadbois
This day is a day to be treasured always for so many reasons. 

For the work that God has done through us.
For the children we rescued.
For the love they’ve brought into our lives.
For their resilience, and their bravery.
For the strength we have gained through the difficulties.
For the wisdom and courage to follow our hearts.
For the desire to keep on helping those left behind.
For a daughter who is ever present in our hearts, if not in our arms.

On the Farm

A new-to-us walk-in cooler was delivered and is being installed for our farm-to-door delivery business. 

©Nissa Gadbois

©Nissa Gadbois

©Nissa Gadbois

©Nissa Gadbois  

We can hardly wait to minister to local families in such a special way.  Nourishing bodies with nutritious foods, and nourishing souls by the way in which we serve.

Make a Way

A year ago today, we arrived in Sofia, Bulgaria to bring Nick and Olivia home.  We were filled with the joy of the fulfillment of a dream, knowing that God had lead us along a winding road to this time and place.  We had no way of knowing the heartbreak and difficulty that this road would bring on the other side.  The stress of those two weeks was so great that we feared for my health in a very real way.  We questioned our decision many times.  Could we meet their needs?  What were we bringing home to our other children?  They had never experienced anything like these kids; knew nothing of the things that their new siblings had experienced before coming home. 

©Nissa GadboisSt. Nicholas Russian Orthodox Church – Sofia, Bulgaria

Through the extreme anxiety, we prayed.  We prayed constantly and never as fervently as we did during that fortnight.  It was about as close to Gethsemane that either of us could ever have imagined.  We begged for God to allow this cup to pass from us, but ultimately accepted His will for all of us.  We knew that God had brought us this far.  That He had asked us to adopt THESE two children.  That He had put it on our hearts to help more children.  We knew He’d lead us through all that was happening and all that was to come.

Nothing we had ever experienced, nor read, prepared us for this.  NOTHING.  It has been the most awful, most blessed year of our lives.  We have discovered how to lean hard into the weight of that rough-hewn cross and press that thorny crown down firmly on our heads, how to smile through the blood and the tears. 

©Nissa GadboisBe not afraid to walk through the door that God shows you

Throughout those two weeks and many, many days since, this song has been a source of strength. 

You brought me to the desert so You could be my water
You brought me to the fire so You could be my shield
You brought me to the darkness so You could be my morning light
If You brought me this far, if You brought me this far

Wherever you lead me, I know you won’t leave me
Wherever you call me, You will make a way
Wherever we’re going, I will be holding
To the promise you have made
You will make a way
You will make a way

And when I’m in the valley, You will be my comfort
And when I’m at the end of me, I find You there
When I’m in the battle, You will be my present peace
Cause You brought me this far, You brought me this far
If You brought me this far

Wherever you lead me, I know you won’t leave me
Wherever you call me, You will make a way
Wherever we’re going, I will be holding
To the promise you have made
You will make a way
My God will make a way

Cause You brought me this far
You brought me this far
You brought me this far
You will make a way – I Am They, “Make a Way”

He is calling us again and we know that He’ll bring us through whatever comes. 

©Nissa GadboisAlexander Nevsky Cathedral – Sofia, Bulgaria

©Nissa GadboisIconostasis, Alexander Nevsky Cathedral – Sofia, Bulgaria

©Nissa Gadbois  +Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the Living God, have mercy on me, a sinner+

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