Driving the kids to school on another Friday. “Goodbye.” “Make good choices.” “Love you.”
Now off to work.
As I head South on Oak Ridge Highway my eyes are drawn toward a yellow break in the clouds. A white puffy jet stream streaks through the sky. As I slow for a red light I realize I am witnessing the ascension of Abby. American Airlines carries her back to Haiti. Back to Les Anglais. Back to the place she loves. As jet-fuel exhaust traces her route she climbs higher.
This isn’t just another Haiti medical trip. Yes, she will see many patients, counsel a few team members, and continue to build complex relationships in a community which needs and needs to be. Yes, she will sweat, cry, hunger, worry and reach. She will also long to be in Port au Prince. That is where I will be with our daughter. Lenia and I have an important appointment Monday morning. Her VISA appointment. I follow Abby’s jet-stream toward a small island to finalize the three-year adoption of Lenia Sainfranc Blackmon. She is my fifth and (hopefully) last daughter. She is thirteen.
She is of a different color. She speaks a different language. She knows a world which is foreign to me. Yet. She is mine. She is ours. She is an integral part of the complex, multifaceted Blackmon clan. She is coming home.
God urged me to look up. He pointed me toward a view which revealed Abby’s flight toward Haiti. All I could do say was “Thank You.” Thank you for those glorious jet trails. Thank you for the opportunity to experience Haiti. And, thank you for bringing my daughter home.