.Remembering.

As I sat rocking Jamesy memories washed over me like tidal waves. Our second trip to Ethiopia is such a blur. We landed in Addis on Sunday morning and had Jamesy forever in our arms that afternoon. I was surviving on pure adrenaline, and that was honestly how I went through much of the second trip. I am glad I walked into the first trip with eyes wide open, and I now see the blessing that it was that we had to go twice. I would have missed so much if the Ethiopian adoption process had not changed to the mandatory two trips.

One precious memory that I never want to forget is that of walking the streets of Addis with my Ethiopian son. Words cannot fully express what it was like, so I won't really try. Everywhere we went with Jamesy people swooned over him - at restaurants, shops, on the streets, in the guest house - everywhere. Jamesy would get his hands and cheeks kissed by almost every person that we encountered.

The culture is so different from that here in America. If I were to walk into a grocery store here and have people flock to Jamesy, kissing all over him, I would be appalled. But it was just different there. After every kiss that Jamesy received most people would look at him and then at us and say konjo (Cone Joe - but you must imagine it in that lovely amharic lilt that rolls off of the tongue like silk)

Konjo

Konjo

Konjo

We heard it over and over and over. I finally learned what it meant, and my heart melted like butter.

Beautiful.

And he is. When I look at him all I see is konjo, and I know that the plan God has for my son's life is going to be beautiful.

Konjo, my Jamesy, you are konjo.

Subscribe in a reader