Passport? Check. Tickets? Check. Suitcase full of bubbles for orphans in Ethiopia? Check.
Now all I need is to get my hands on my son, Eli. 22 hours from now I will be touching down in the land where my son was born in order to bring him home.
I have had so many people ask me how I feel right now. Honestly, I feel so at peace. Will this be a challenging few days? Yes. Are there unknowns awaiting me? Sure. Could the plane ride home be one of the most challenging 16 1/2 hours I have ever faced? Absolutely.
But it’s all worth it. Every bit of it. The months of paperwork, the resources needed, the vaccinations, the concerned questions, the malaria medication, the long travels, the monkeys at the hotel (yeah, I’ll fill you in later), the exposure to some of the greatest needs in the world and only addressing one of them, it’s all going to be worth it to bring my son home.
Eli, you have been prayed for and adored by more people than we ever could imagine. You are coming home to a big, loving family.
Obadiah, your excitement for your little brother has brought more joy to our hearts than you can imagine.
Amanda, your willingness to take the last year’s of naptimes to use them to bring another child home rather than just rest from the child you already had shows more of your heart, love, and Christlikeness than you’ll ever know. I am honored to be your husband.
Family, friends, and church family, thank you for your support. Your excitement has been so encouraging.
Jesus, I love you. The last few days, I believe those moments of abrupt laughter of mine has probably been shared by you. I think about what I am doing and I just being to erupt joyfully in laughter. Oh, the places that following you has taken me. I wouldn’t trade it for another thing in this world. It is always an honor to say yes to you, sir.
I am going to try and update this over the next few days, but dial-up connection in an orphanage where the power goes out repeatedly citywide doesn’t promise too many updates, but check back because I do hope to update you.
Just so you know, when we touch back on American soil, realize that Eli is not my adopted son. Adoption will forever be a part of his history but it is not his identity. He is my son. As much as Obadiah is my son, Eli is my son. He is not a project, a charity, or a noble cause. He is forever an Agnew. My boy. And I am honored to be his dad.
I appreciate your prayers over the next few days. Pray for safe travels and such, but pray really, really big prayers for Eli. Pray that God allows him to do so much for his kingdom throughout his life. Don’t settle for praying for our safety. Pray big prayers.
Much love. Peace out. My boy is coming home.