Heartbeats from Heaven.
Burundi Journey Episode 2.
To know more of the story of our adoption journey, we must return to February 2019. IF Gathering to be exact. It was a moment in time that gave endurance for the next 2.5 years that I did not realize at the time that I would need. IF Gathering is a yearly women’s conference that is hosted in Dallas, TX and brings people from around the world. If you know me well you know I do not do crowds well. Social anxiety and myself have a long history. The first moment I can remember being at the age of 7 and vomiting before running onto the stage as the curtain were opening for one of my first, and I should also mention one of my last ever dance recitals, as I soon discovered gymnastics was more the lane I was to ride in for most of my adolescent life. Anyways, I have long since been terrified of events, anxiety rising with so many people, so many noises, and the always awkward moments I tend to create out of nervous conversation. I say this to first say, if you also struggle with social anxiety, then you are indeed not alone, but also to simply set the scene before you for what is about to transpire and to allow the miracle of it all to be in full effect.
The conference began on a Friday evening, and now we are nearing the end. I thought for sure on my drive towards location that God had whispered upon my heart that something of revelation was going to happen, something profound, something transformational. And yet, to be honest, I felt most of my weekend had been wasted on my anxiety and calming my fears for hours on end.
However, there was this moment in time where everything changed. I remember it as this: a women from IJM is talking about the work they are doing to rescue the vulnerable out of horrific abuse situations around the world. The thought of our adoption, the thought of the unknown of the story that our child would be birthed out of, kind of crumbled in me in that moment. I closed my eyes, tried to think of something else, anything else as I could feel my throat tightening, the room spinning a bit, as the emotions welled up from the tension of the unknown until they simply spilled over. Tears began to fall, then weeping, a deep cry that needed release. A friend beside me placed her hand upon my back, significant because it reminded me that I was okay to feel exactly as I felt in that moment in time. It gave me permission to release anxiety and fully be with all my emotion in that moment. I knew I was not alone. I was not alone to let it all go free. To allow all that was coming to rinse and flow out of me. And then, in what I can only describe as the breath of God, Yahweh Himself completely taking over, I felt as if I was breathing with God. A holy rhythm that felt as natural and yet as divine and miraculous as I could imagine. My breathing became synchronized, and just as with the breath, I then began to feel layered heartbeats beating upon my own. Inhale, Exhale, Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. Calm. Rhythmic. Deep. A divine wave upon wave of comforting grace. Then, three hearts, stacked upon my own, beating in perfect union, synced to this holy breath of God. Tha-dump, tha-dump, the-dump. I can only describe it as divine, as radiant, as pure holiness outside of myself in every way, shape and form. And yet, as I deeply understood I was experiencing something far beyond myself, I also had never felt more true and whole to myself as I did in that moment. I was transfixed, caught in the moment and mesmerized within it in every way. The peace that passes all understand? The joy overflowing? The mystery of creation? I felt it all in those few moments of time. Eventually I felt release of breath back to that of my own. I opened my eyes, looked eye to eye with my soul sister, and we gazed deep, no words were needed. Embrace was enough, the comfort of being together was enough. We both felt it. We both experienced the hand of God in that moment. And I knew. I knew God was placing the heartbeats of our future children upon my chest. Giving me a tangible moment, a tangible memory to grasp hold of when circumstances became hard to come up for air. A moment to believe in miracles. A moment to sit in awe at a God so far beyond all that we might be able to ask or imagine. To believe in Yahweh again. To believe all of our hearts, our time, our money we had invested into this adoption journey was not to be wasted. The gift of heartbeats from heaven.
Thursday, November 25, 2020
6:00am- We awoke bright and early, the sounds of cars and people traveling roads to start the journeys of the day. After the exhaustion of the day before we all slept much better than I had anticipated, but still awoke with deep longing for more. Yet, the nerves of our first full day as a family of five, the tenderness and anticipation around the newness of it all struck me in a way in which sleep had no further chance. As the newborn exits the womb with cries, changing forevermore the important things in the world, shifting and redirecting perspective in every way. So too, was the newness felt here. The tender dance around comfort levels and adapting to the role of parent to three certainly had a feeling I had never felt before.
8:30am- After stalling in the room by people watching, learning selfies and discovering headbands, it was eventually time to meet in the hotel lobby for breakfast. And breakfast indeed was to be had. Modeste, our lawyer who was also our main source of hospitality in country ordered tea, fruit, many, many plates of fruit, omelettes, bread, and a chicken broth style soup. It was enough for a royal feast. The fruit in Burundi is always fresh, the tea local and seeping hot, the omelettes made from fresh eggs filled with onions, broth a smooth, creamy nourishment. And try as we might to finish, we left much behind. But we had places to be, for you see, we were about to experience one of the deepest cultural experiences of our entire trip.
10:00am- With the van fully loaded once more we headed to see the Burundian Drummers. In Burundi this is not like a drumline, able to coordinate rhythm and stride. No, this is much more. And not to discount a drumline that we might imagine, but much more-so to highlight the extreme talent and honor that is held here. In Burundi, becoming a drummer is honored to a high esteem. It holds the symbolism of protection, of unity, of perseverance, of storytelling. The Burundian drummers balance drums on their heads, dancing, and drumming in a rhythm quite their own. Jumping in rhythm as they tell the story of Burundi in music and dance.
The experience for us was one I will never forget. We pulled in, immediately becoming the attention of the areas as a van full of “mizungus” or “white people” exited the vehicle. We were welcomed by the leader of the drummers and given a tour of the grounds with an explanation of the history being interpreted for us. Afterwards, we were brought to a small seating area. Small wooden benches had been placed in a line to where we sat with some standing behind. Children perched on trees before us. Their pride parading our far and wide for what is coming. I wonder how har their delight whispered in the wind? I wonder how many times each week they climb these heights for just one more glimpse of the unity, one more remembrance of the country they embrace as home, one more rise and fall of heartbeats synchronized in fullness of joy.
The beat strong, powerful, not only pulsing through ears, but also surging through hearts as the drummers began their entrance through a small opening through the crowd of villagers stranding watch to the side of us. And for about 30 minutes we were taken to another place. A place captivated by the story being told before us, connected to the creativity here, covered by the blanket of beat surrounding us.
In a way I felt distinctly connected to the earth that day. As if my feet, standing there on the other side of the world were as connected there as home. There was a sense of being held in the music, carried by it, just as we are carried by the earth each day. Breath syncing with heartbeat, feet resting upon the red clay ground that has carried Burundi for centuries. Smelling the dust kicked up in the air from the performance. The drumming, Burundi’s own heartbeat coming alive, culture displayed in wonder and awe.
And when it was all over, we cheered and clapped, exiting our enchantment, and thrown back into the arms of gracious hospitality. We bought each of the kids a mini drum, to be able to bring just a piece of this story home with us. To bring a remembrance of the heartbeat home.
12:00pm- After hearts were filled with the joy of Burundi in every way, we began our journey back to Bujumbura, the place of our hotel. Thankful for our large breakfast now, as we were to skip lunch, and have many delays in getting back, such as routes being blocked without notice for government officials in the area, road closures due to broken down vehicles, and gas pumps where military vehicles are served first, no matter what the occasion. But eventually, hours after our projected arrival we did manage to make it back to our hotel in Bujumbura; the first time Theresia gets to witness where we will bond and stay for the next 2.5 weeks. For now, we quickly set down the gatherings of the day, and turn around for a dash to dinner here at the hotel.
7:00pm- Another long day had been laid behind us. A day of exquisite learning, of fumbling through the delays of travel and finding that Theresia LOVES mayonnaise and ketchup. Indeed also, many moments of gratitude for having Shiloh and Thomas with us. I do think it has helped Theresia feel safer with us, but also, it has been an amazingly helpful tool to cross language barrier to show Theresia what is to come. Like a shower. A warm shower at that. I shall never forget that precious smile light up on Theresia’s face when she first felt the warmth of that shower. We have since discovered that water is her favorite and she wants to be in the water as much as possible. But here, this first full day with her, we experienced it for the first time. For the first time, water pellets rushing over her little body and bouncing off to the walls in such delight as she let out a shy giggle and continued to splash the warm water on her face time and time again. Such a tangible reminder of ALL the joys, ALL the miracles we have before us each and every day, if we simply take the time to let them in, to notice them. Today, it was the extraordinary gift of water, clean, fresh, warm water to clean and enjoy, to find radiant laughter and fun!
8:00pm- Bedtime quickly approached shortly after. All the children nuzzled in with me on the large bed and Josh found his place in the small bed beside us. Dozing to the quiet of our dreams rather quickly, yet with a fullness that was hard to describe. But in the moment before sleep took me by its persistence, I pondered on how Theresia had yet to shed a single tear. Rolling away from the orphanage yesterday, smiles and waves. How do you transition from living one life your whole life, then simply transitioning to another in the wake of an afternoon? How do you wrestle the fear down into the dirt while you summon courage into your palm? How do you bare the weight of all the change with a smile and a Burundian head nod? It kind of breaks me in a way. You know, feeling like you have to be so tough through it all. Feeling as if you have to transition this well. But oh how I hope that when the day of crumble comes, I may meet it with patience and love. For how can one soul be so divided and not shed a single tear?
I’ll see you soon then as we continue on this journey together. Thank you for being here for Episode 2!
~ Laura
Miss our previous Episode 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