Thursday, October 3, 2013

Bulbs

I keep reminding myself that the highs are high and the lows are low.  The roller coaster continues.  I just am tired of riding it, really tired of it.

I have a trip planned in 4 short weeks.  I made it thinking that everything has been done.  That all I am waiting on is a court date.  That is what we have been led to believe from way over in the African continent.  Turns out that there is a lot not done.  No affidavit from a key family member.  No DNA tests are done.  A checklist that needs to be completed before our lawyer will submit for court.

I just want to fly over there and knock some heads.  What happened to the submitting for a court date "asap"?????  Why do we suddenly have to be so "cautious"?????

I just really don't have the words right now.  I got that email and the wind was knocked out of my sails. The fear that has been lurking raised up and threatened to swallow me whole.  That fear lives in the back of my mind, it is hard to fight, hard to squash.

I talked to the director of the program.  She didn't know the specifics of our case but she listened to me. She heard my tears and I am sure felt my discouragement.  She said she wished I could see them all in their offices banging their heads on their desks and their walls.  We have been told that everyone knows our story, I am sure they have a many stories like ours.  This process is not for the faint of heart....

She encouraged me to still go on our trip.  That the facts haven't changed, the timeline has.  That they are pushing for us.  They are trying to create as much urgency around our case as they can.  "Africa time"  is a crazy thing.  We have no concept of it here.  We expect things to be done and they are.  Blech!!**@@#%^&%&*^

Then, I came across a facebook post linking to Ann Voskamp.  Oh Ann, you are amazing.  The words that she writes are so full of truth, so needed, and so beautifully written.  The post took some lines out of her latest blog post and it was so powerful, so needed, and so for me.  For the process, for the girls, for our family.

"We lay our hope, full and tender, into the depths of Him and wait in hope for God to resurrect something good.  Good always necessitates long waiting.  This waiting on God is the very real work of the people of God.  Every person needs hope planted at the bottom of their hole".... she was planting bulbs and had a friend in need, a friend in a dark place.  She had some beautiful analogies, some beautiful truth written.

The reality is that my circumstance today do not change the will and the plan of God.  I wrestle and pray for these girls, for this adoption to go through.  When the bumps come sometimes I doubt myself.  Did I not hear you Lord?  Did you not move in our hearts?  Is this love, this very real love, we feel for the girls for nothing?

And that is hard.  To want and long, but to not to know the end.

It makes me cling tight to Him sometimes and run far away sometimes.

Nothing changes who He is though.  Nothing changes the fact that I am a daughter of the King.  A treasured member of His family.  That my Abba father knows the end.  He sees what I cannot dare to hope.  He works and moves in ways that I cannot even fathom.

He is for love.  He is for sacrifice.  He IS for adoption.  He is for a hope that won't quit.

A hope in the reality of who He is.  Knowing He is who He says He is.  That no matter the outcome, HE IS GOOD.  He is strong enough to carry our load and our sorrow.

He carries our joy too.  That on the day when we our dreams come true He is right there smiling and rejoicing with us.

I will choose hope today.  I will choose to plant my own bulb in that deep dark hole.  Knowing that in time something beautiful will spring forth.  That He can take my longings, my prayers, and my tears and He can bring beauty.

I pray even more fervently for the girls and our family today.  For all of the families that are in our spot right now.  There is one who doesn't want it to happen, who will fight with all he has to make sure it doesn't happen.

One foot in front of the other, day by day.  Annet and Joy, here I come.  In four weeks I am getting on that plane and I am coming to see you.  To hold your faces in my hands, your hands in mine.  I am clinging to the hope that God is moving.  That He called us and brought us to the two of you, my daughters.

Some may shake their heads, thinking the risk is too much, the chance for pain too deep.  I feel the same way sometimes.  BUT I know who my Savior is.  I know He is big enough and compassionate enough to grant the desire of our heart.

He is big enough no matter what.