Harvest Days

Burundi Journey Episode 3.

October 7, 2020. It was a beautiful day outside and I decided to take the kids to explore property, looking for the places with the best light for upcoming photography sessions that weekend. The light was a soft golden hew that evening. One that I dream about for photography sessions. Well that and fog. Combine the two and you have my ultimate dream photography setting. After capturing some magic by the pond, Shiloh, my curious one by nature always rounded the corner to follow sounds of the combine. For it was harvest day. Combines hard at work harvesting wheat, corn and soybeans from the year. Dust being stirred up like fog, like wonder, like dew rising from the soil. Shiloh spinning and dancing, making magic in her own world. Harvest. The word set on me like fresh wind, like fire, like the scent just before a rainstorm. Anticipation for something marvelous, revealing, renewing on its way. Harvest.

The word continued to sit on me for 3 days. Stirring in my mind, resting upon my stomach, dwelling deep in heart. Harvest.

October 10, 2020. 6:00am. Words finally seeped to the surface:

HARVEST DAYS. 

Harvest days. 

Dust heavy, 

Beans swiftly collected by the thousands. 

Intense fog, 

Granules swirling, 

Suffocating the air. 

So we hold our breath and we watch the scene, eyes squinted, 

Sun setting just so to create a harvest glow. 

And as we watch we feel so deeply connected to the process. 

The reality that the farmer holds control of the dust, not us. 

Yet, within this space, 

Succumbed to the unknown with visibility limited, 

Breathing stalled and sounds drowned out by that of the tractor, 

There too is a piece of magic in being submerged within granules of hope. 

Submerged into the refining process. 

For the now is so very loud, clarity lacking, details swirling and visibility thin, 

But magic remains in the glow reflecting off the dust. 

Hope remains in trusting the farmer to collect the harvest. 

And soon, yes soon for harvest is here, 

Abundance shall be near. 

An abundance of beans, 

An abundance of clarity. 

For once the dust settles and the grains are dispersed the field returns to that before the harvest.

Before the planting. 

Before the reliance on weather, on rain. 

Before the resistance to animals and vehicles that threaten to destroy and take. 

Before the fertilization and steadfast waiting. 

The field returns to a barren state. 

But it never is quite the same. 

For each time we gain deeper wisdom. 

And with fields cut low, only sheaves remaining scattered along the dust, 

Visibility is quite clear now, yes. 

We can now see for miles, outstretched and beyond. 

We can look back and see all the growth and rest in the abundant spaces of harvest days, with full tables and rest filled souls. 

We can know the days of unknown, placed within the fog of harvest has changed us. 

We can know the work of planting and keeping has strengthened us. 

We see with new eyes. 

For the reflection of light through granules brought wisdom and compassion that shall not be shaken. 

The fertilization and covering has reminded us that we can endure much father than we ever thought possible. 

Our reliance on the weather, the rain, the humbling truth that we are far less in control than we think we are and that is ok. 

For these are the harvest days. 

October 10, 2020. 3:00pm. My phone rings. It is our adoption agency on the other line. Hands shaking I answer, hardly able to speak. “Well, are you ready for some good news” I hear Diedra, our case worker, say on the other end of the line. “Yes” I whisper, hardly able to make sound come out of my voice. She says “You have been matched with a little girl, and her name is Theresia. She has the brightest smile. You should be receiving an email now with her photo and all the information we have for right now”. Everything else was a bit fuzzy after that. Sobs broke out of me, the ones I had been holding, bottled up for 3 long years without realizing it. For 3 years we had awaited this very moment in, the first moment we would lay eyes upon our child. And here it was. My hands couldn't move fast enough. Mistyping letters and shaking hands, snot and tears mixing together running down my cheeks, my chin. But having it all together kind of just runs out the window in moments like these. It no longer matters if your behavior is “socially acceptable” because the heart is focused somewhere else, somewhere more important. I remember hearing on the other end of the line “Is everything okay?”. I had completely forgotten to respond, to answer in verbal form. “Yes, yes. These are happy tears, happy.” Its all I could get out of me. Diedra politely ended the call giving me space to soak it all in, telling me we would soon be in constant communication with all the things to come. I hung up, and fingers focused on one place now instead of two I finally pulled up the email. There she was. “Radiant Joy”. It was the first thought that popped into my head. “She is truly radiant Joy”.

Little did I know how much I would need that. That moment there of pure bliss. Of pure relief. Of pure love traveling time and space and dimensions. For you see, I always had this twinge of fear if I am being completely honest, “Will I love our child at first sight? Will it come as naturally as the others?” This moment calmed every fear. I knew we were connected upon instant sight. Now, moments and days to come in future, in the actual merging of stories would remind me that adoption is different. That there is a period of bonding that is happening for us at 7 instead of 0 and that indeed that is very different. But this, this moment of knowing that I would fight for this child with all that is in me the way I would for my others. There was no doubt in my mind after this moment in time. And I knew our radiant Joy would be coming.

Also, I looked up the name Theresia. What did it mean? First off, my stepmothers name is Theresa so I knew she would be overjoyed by another in the family, but I had not looked up the meaning before now. But meanings of names are powerful to me. So I had to look, and there it was : “The meaning of Theresia is ‘harvester’ and the name is of Greek origin. The name also means ‘reap’”. There it was. The reason the harvest was set upon my soul that beautiful day out exploring the fields. For the same day that Harvest Days came forth by pen and paper watching the sun rise in my room, was the same day we first discovered our daughter’s name: Theresia, the one who brings the harvest.

The Final Days of November

Friday Nov. 26 - 30, 2021.

These days we began to find a rhythm as we merged into life together. Each morning was met with getting dressed, brushing teeth and heading to the hotel breakfast with fresh tropical fruits, the best croissants I have ever had in my life, hard boiled eggs, or omelette, hot tea, or fresh juice. Learning the rhythm of praying as a family around meals, together now thanking God for Theresia here before us instead of praying for her safety, health and heart from afar.

After breakfast we would venture back to our room for a quick load of laundry in our sink to be able to hang dry before the rains of the afternoon. It was also our chance to change clothes. Change clothes for the pool.

Late mornings were almost always spent at the pool. We quickly discovered the pool was Theresia’s favorite place to be. The consistent “Kwoga?” each morning at breakfast: “to swim?”. Theresia adored the water, playing and swimming for hours until we would make her get out to eat a bite of lunch poolside, (sambosas and white rice with water or sprite) only for her to jump back in. When picking her up from the orphanage we asked one of the caretakers her favorite animal, to which they replied, “fish”. Yes it makes sense. She wants to be just like a fish in water, always in water.

Afternoons varied. Some kept us in our room with harsh rains pouring down, leaving the kids to coloring or play with the few toys we had brought along: horses, barbies, play dough and a couple of days magna tiles graciously lent us by another family staying with us at the same hotel. Other days we had been able to go on a hippo tour, experiencing hippos in the wild for the first time, out in a small wooden covered boat, slowly motoring through hippo and crocodile waters (not my favorite thing, but maybe Josh’s favorite!). Another day we ventured out to town for market. These things always have a way of becoming an adventure, a story for our family, and Burundi did not disappoint. Through miscommunication, we ended up hopping on the wrong bus at our hotel. We were on the employee bus, making stops to drop and pick up hotel employees. In time it was obvious we had gotten on the wrong bus, but in true Burundi fashion, they figured out where we were trying to go, and got us there. The only down side? We now had no ride back. But all was well and we ended up taking a Burundian taxi home. I loved being able to have the kids experience more customary Burundian transport anyways! :)

The first Sunday in Burundi allowed us to visit our lawyers church in town. With songs in French, and the sermon spoken in French and translated into Kirundi, with translators sitting just beside us then translating into English. It was a powerful experience: witnessing the same God worshipped in Burundi as in Indiana. The same God through different language. There is something so powerful, so holy about such an experience. Everything about it, the flow, the time frame, the manor of worship different, yet hearts bent and surrendered the same. Holy Spirit alive and well across every tribe, language and nation. The same Hallelujah shouted from the chairs in Gary, Indiana to the chairs in Bujumbura, Burundi. Oh how remarkable to think of the nations crying out with shouts of joy, the same worthy God! Hallelujah we praise! And what an honor to have Theresia experience this with us. To experience worship with us in her homeland, in her language. A moment where we were the “outsiders” and she is home. A moment where she understands language and tongue and we are at the mercy of the kindness of another. These experiences, these moments in Burundi were so important for us. As a family, together surrendering our pride for listening ears, observant eyes, humble hearts, gracious hands, willing feet. Such grace for God to humble us in the valley before raising us upon the mountaintops. These moments I shall never forget.

Oh and as we pulled away from church that Sunday, our eyes were met with kind waves from a woman in a car up and to the right of us in the parking lot, smiles large and full of compassion. “This woman”, Modeste our lawyer says through the window, “This woman is the one who wrote your official decrees for your adoptions. She is the one. She is so happy to see you here and to see these children with their parents.” Talk about a moment. Our decree is our most important legal document. It is the document that finalizes the adoption process. September 30, 2020, stamped, signed and sealed. The day Theresia legally became our daughter. Written by a woman who attends the church of our lawyer, written by humble hands of a woman who worships the same God. What a generous gift to witness her kind waves and generous smile. What a generous gift!

I’ll see you soon then, to share more of our time and heart in Burundi. Sending all my love from the current mess of our schoolroom to meet you wherever you are, whether it be in a space of full beauty and rest, or right in the middle of the messy, chaotic middle. Leaning in with you within this journey of life.

~Laura

Miss any of the previous Episodes of our time in Burundi? Here is some easy access for you!

Episode 1. Back to the Beginning: https://www.lauradugglebyphotography.com/blog/2022/2/26/back-to-the-beginning

Episode 2. Heartbeats from Heaven: https://www.lauradugglebyphotography.com/blog/2022/3/9/heartbeats-from-heaven