Birthday Balloons

December 28th marked Poppy's official fourth birthday. I write "official" because we don't really know for sure what her precise birth date is since there was no note left at her "finding place" in her Chinese village. Victoria and I think she might be a little older than four because of her advanced verbal skills. On the other hand, I personally believe she might be a little younger than four because February 13th, 2005 marks the "official" day that the Lord first placed the concept of adoption on our hearts; a day we'll never forget, and the day that forever changed our lives. I have a hunch that Poppy was born that day and the Lord infused His appointment for us simultaneously at her birth. Only He knows these things for sure, as "The secret things belong to the Lord our God." (Deuteronomy 29:29a)

With all of our children home, we were excited because Poppy could celebrate with fanfare among her favorite people in the world. Since it was a Sunday and we attended church that day, we knew we wouldn't be able to honor her until afterward. So on the way home (I went in a separate car), I decided to stop by a party shop and pick up some bright mylar balloons filled with helium. I love that kind (as opposed to the rubbery ones) because they last such a long time. Of course, I had to pick up two because otherwise Willow would pilfer Poppy's every time she turned her head; turned out to be a wise move (but, of course, they always wanted the one the other had - an axiom of life). When I walked through the door with those big, colorful balloons Willow screamed at the top of her lungs with exuberance, but Poppy looked at me and them with a forlorn face. So I knelt down, gazed into those beautiful, dark brown round eyes and asked her, "What's the matter, Sweetie?" She said, "Daddy, I don't like balloons because they get away and go up into the sky." Of course, those little comments always get me thinking, but for the moment I just hugged her, said, "Happy Birthday" and then told her that these balloons wouldn't float away because they'd tied plastic, toy anchors to the bottom of the string. This seemed to brighten her spirits, as evidenced with a growing grin against her cheeks.

I know how she feels about the balloons. I always felt that way about them too when I was a kid. They sort of made me happy and sad, both at the same time. While fun, you don't want to get too attached to them because you know they're going to deflate sometime, or worse yet slip through your fingers and see them disappear high above as you longingly watched them get smaller and smaller, and then eventually vanish. You sort of hesitate to glob onto something with full affection when you know it's guaranteed to bring disappointment and sadness. Yet it's the anchors that give confidence, hope and assurance that the things you love most will never really vanquish. The only anchor we can give Poppy is outside of ourselves, and that's found in Jesus who promised that He'd be with us always, "... even unto the end of the age." (Matthew 28:20b) May Poppy's joy be in Him only, because man and things will always disappoint, eventually.

Happy Birthday Poppy,

Daddy & Mommy