I USED to think roller coasters were fun.

I've never been a bungee jumper or a zip-liner or a skydiver. Well there was that one time but it was only because I was trying to impress the man I knew I wanted to be my best friend until death do us part. Considering I wanted to back out, screamed bloody murder the ENTIRE WAY DOWN and probably had a pee spot on my jeans afterwards makes me think the odds might not have been in my favor on that one. He married me anyway so all's well that ends well.

Roller coasters on the other hand? Bring. It. On. Something about being strapped in and someone else pushing the lever that makes it TOTALLY different on the risk scale and WAY doable. And I do. If theme parks weren't so dang expensive and hours away, I would be on roller coasters every weekend if I could. Roller coasters to me are like roman candles; amazing and wonderful and exhilarating and shocking for .02 seconds and then it's over. And being over is good because there's a certain rollercoaster threshold that we all have and let me tell you; once surpassed, it is ALL DOWN HILL; literally AND figuratively.

Yesterday I reached that threshold, but the ride unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, DID NOT STOP. I felt like I was 6 again and on the Merry Go Round for the first time. You remember the Merry Go Round don't you?! That awful kiddie ride that looks so beautiful and fun from the outside, like it's made of candy and rainbows, but once you get on you realize it was designed by Satan himself. Why you people encourage your kids to get on that thing is beyond me. I guess maybe the picture BEFORE the one of them projectile vomiting on you turns out pretty cute, perhaps?

So yeah, yesterday. At one point I just had to grab a brown bag and pray that Mary Poppins would save me and my horse would LEAP off of the ride and go pogoing through the country side so I could get some AIR. It did not happen. Instead, this is what did.

About an hour after the meeting to determine if we were the right 'fit' for the girls had commenced and our caseworker had presented the 70 page Goble stack of information, she left the meeting so that the adoption committee could arrive at their determination. She got in touch with us to say that she had received overwhelmingly positive feedback, that everyone seemed to be pleased with what The Goble Family had to offer, and that we should have a decision shortly. Yay! Our three girls seemed so close that I felt as if they were locked in the next room and I was waiting patiently to be given the key that would open the door to our interconnected futures. I still held a soft, sad spot in my heart for the fact that their brother would not be joining them, but I had already settled myself into a forced peace about that some time before so rather than being excruciatingly painful it was more like a quick, band aid ripping pinch and then it became more of a dull ache. Until I read the rest of the email.

Sam, she went on to inform us; piece number three of our four piece puzzle; the little boy that runs away from me in my dreams, the son that my husband would not yet have, the one that, mere MOMENTS before, my mind was pushing way down into the heart caverns where things not yet understood live, WAS in fact also available for adoption! I had no words. I had no breath. All of my dreams, my prayers were about to come true. Our puzzle would be complete and our babies would not be separated after all. God was good. So good.

But we continued to wait. And by wait I really mean: prayed, cried, paced like a starving lioness, tried to distract my busy, over anxious, OCD imagination with Facebook, Pinterest, Google, YouTube, GodVine, Grey's Anatomy and even some work thrown in for good measure.

And then it arrived. The email outlining the fate of our future. And I saw them. Those three little words. YOU'VE BEEN SELECTED. In that moment time stopped, and those three little words were more profound then all the I Love You's and I Hate You's of which I had ever been on the receiving end. They were the most beautiful words I had ever read. They were the words that were paving the way to a future filled with laughter and giggling and screaming and fighting and pancakes with way too much syrup and allowances and chores and sleepovers and tickle wars and pain and tears and scrapes and cuts and bruises and passing grades and failing grades and little league and little dribblers and broken hearts and hopscotch and family game night and bedtime prayers and manners and maybe none of that but maybe all of that. My babies were on their way home. It had been a long journey, but then again, it was only just beginning....................for two of them.

"It has been determined that you have been selected for the adoption of two of the four children in question. Congratulations and good luck."

Isn't a tornado formed when the warm air of the south and the cooler air from the north sweep into each other and the effects of the two opposites create the perfect storm? There is no explanation for how I felt but that's as close as I think I can get at this point.

Inexpressible joy and confidence. Indescribable confusion and fear. The golden key that unlocked the door to the room where my two oldest girls were being kept, had been handed over on a silver platter while the other two keys had been put in a bottle, sealed and sent out to sea. You know that moment when you are laughing so hard that you start to cry or that moment when you are crying so hard that you can't help but laugh? The two emotions must be similar enough in nature that your mind and heart literally become confused and exchange one for the other, even if just for a moment. How can one heart have enough room for such overwhelming joy and overwhelming sadness at the same time?

And then I knew. In that moment I had become a mother.

And while one side of my heart swelled with pride, anticipation and thankfulness, the other side shrank back in the face of fear and doubt. But just for a moment. A moment is all it took for me to remember my new title and all of the responsibility and strength that it carries. For to whom much is given, much more is required. So like the growing embers in the belly of Smaug, the dragon from the Hobbit, a fire had been lit in me that would not soon be put out.

".....suppose a woman has ten silver coins and loses one (or two). Doesn't she light a lamp, sweep the house and search carefully until she finds it?" Luke 15: 8

The answer to this is a resounding YES. So in the meantime I'm off to hunt for a good deal on some scuba gear.