I Cussed Out the Orphans...

I cussed out the orphans. I was sorry for it even as the words left my lips, but still like vomit they came spewing out.

I was having a moment.

In my defense I had held strong for days, even as I left her at the airport, I bit my lip, held back my tears, and saluted to my little soldier for the Lord. But as the days and nights stretched long and quiet, her absence ran icy through my blood. Even the yellow bell peppers at the grocery store made my belly turn. Summer eats them like apples, has since she was a little girl.

The real problem is, I am animal. And all of my lofty ideas about God and purpose and servant hood can not override the mama bear inside of me. And I roared, I stood tall on my hind legs and snarled my teeth wide and clawed at the bare air in front of me.

With great regret, my still-home cubs were in ear shot, and they whimpered and scurried to their corners of the cave.

I emptied the dishwasher, crashing and slamming the cupboard doors, sobbing in a swirl of anger and fear.

My fault, really. I had read the news. You should never read the news when one of your cubs is in a third world country, hours outside of a city, with no internet, no phone. There are wars and rumors of wars, and floods and famine, disease and death. Pick any night of the week, always a tragic story, the kind where you shake your head in disbelief and wonder how this world could be so ugly.

And I know that's why she went. I get it. I know that love is worth dying for. But tell that to my heart, tell that to my adrenal glands.

One, two, three, four...five. Five days left until her blonde ponytail will come bouncing out of the terminal. I know her face will be all aglow and she'll chatter endlessly on the car ride home about how the Lord moved and how the orphans smiled. I know she'll seem taller...and wiser. And I know she'll leave a part of her heart in Haiti forever...I'm just really ready for the rest of her to come home.