Breeding love back in

First things first: We were told today that the powers-that-be for the court hadn't finished going over everything and that the Gladney reps were told to come back Thursday. We were told that on Thursday we will be given a court date.

One milestone at a time. Next one: Thursday. Thanks everyone for checking in, especially those who've written us to ask what's going on. That's today's news: no news.

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I have a pair of boots that are becoming famous, at least around here. They are the nicest boots I've ever had in my life. Every time I wear them, no matter where I go, someone comments on them. And I wear them all the stinkin' time because they're rain boots and we all know how important that is here in Portland. Look how good they work. My feet remained totally dry throughout this insane amount of rain:
My boots are so popular that I have to keep a close eye on them. Some people--and I'm not naming any names--even try to steal them when I'm not looking:

How did I, a person who finds most of her shoes from Target and Goodwill, end up with such a fine pair of boots?

It's because of my friend Amanda's "vision board" (at least that's what I think it's called--please correct me if I'm wrong). She and her man Ian have a board up in their house where they tack up things that inspire them, things that they want, things to spur them on to good deeds. Amanda really dug these boots, so she put a picture of them up on their vision board. She looked at them every day and realized that as cool as they were, she would never use them in Southern California as much as someone would, say, in the Pacific Northwest. And I'm the lucky girl who first sprang to Amanda's mind when she thought of generously giving them to someone who could use such lovely things.

We were surprised this weekend when Ian and Amanda showed up in Portland. We were really happy to get to hang out with them. They're always enthusiastically introducing new ideas to our world, and one of those ideas was that of "breadcrumbs." A breadcrumb is what some people might call a coincidence, but that the perceptive and wise see as something more. David Lynch talks about this idea too--how, when two or more similar things happen all at once: pay attention.

We had a breadcrumb moment Saturday night. We sat down to eat, opened up a bottle or two of wine and made a toast. We toasted various things, all being sure to look each other directly in the eye in the Slovak way (that's another breadcrumb: I met Ian and Amanda at the very first party I went to in Los Angeles after getting married, and they had just returned from a trip to visit friends in, of all places, Slovakia--so we bonded over our shared love of Becherovka and bryndzove halusky). I made a toast to Jocelyn and Amy and their new babies, and when I said the name "Nathan Mussie Breedlove," Ian and Amanda told us this story:


As you can see, the kitchen remodel still isn't finished...we're waiting for the flooring and countertops to arrive...

That's pretty cool, huh? Adding to the breadcrumb moment is that the restaurant worker they described who helped take care of their son Ben demonstrated a value that is also very Ethiopian. In fact, on Jocelyn's blog today, she wrote about the housekeeper at her hotel immediately taking Pacey in her arms and loving on her. What a wonderful thing. Yes, we do need to breed these kinds of loving people back in to our culture.

Ted tried his hand at being the village that raises the child but ended up using Ben as a prop to refresh our memories of what "the infected" are like in the movie we were about to watch, 28 Weeks Later. Ben, being the zen-master he is, just took it all in stride.

By the way, you can listen to Ian's brilliant song-writing by clicking here. Go listen. You'll be blessed.

Speaking of breadcrumbs: As I was finishing up this post, I took a break to check my email (an obsessive habit) and had a new message from who else but Amy Breedlove! She got to meet Abe yesterday when they went to get their gorgeous boy Nathan. She says the following,"...I gave him his blanket and his photo album. He loved his little photo book. He wouldn't turn loose of it for me to get a picture of it straight! He is so adorable...his little dimples are just as precious as they are in the pictures too..."

It's so strange to think about Abe having in his hands (and probably his mouth too) something that my hands prepared for him. That small connection makes me happy but breaks my heart all at once. I so want him to know he's loved by us so many thousands of miles away. I can only pray that in some way he does.

I hear the rumbling of faith...
I know the benefits of pain.
I know I'll never be the same.
And when I've given all I can I'll be a satisfied man.
--Ian Harrison from "Pretty Good Plan"