That’s how I would describe life right now. Heavy. Heavy heart, heavy burdens, heavy days. I suppose phases like this are necessary. How else would we appreciate the lighter, more carefree moments? And how else would we learn to be compassionate to others? And how else would we grow and mature? So I understand that this is a part of life and everyone has their own heavy times. But that doesn’t mean its pleasant and it doesn’t make it easier.
We didn’t pass court yesterday. I waited all day for the email saying that the last piece of the puzzle was complete and she was officially and legally ours. But it never came. The afternoon brought an email that said the appointment hadn’t gone exactly as it should and we have been issued a fourth court date… Tuesday, August 14th. This time things should be in order and the adoption will be finalized. But of course that’s what I thought about yesterday’s appointment… so while I am remaining hopeful I am also forcing myself to be realistic and keep in mind that it’s possible something could go wrong next week too. The bottom line is that these are now two weeks of delays that are irreversible. Meaning two weeks less that we get with our daughter. That’s hard to swallow. While I know that in the grand scheme of things two weeks really isn’t all that long, right now it feels like forever. Especially when you think about how much small babies change in just a week’s time. I don’t want to miss any more than I already have!
And then there’s Mareto. Our sweet, loving, and delightful boy. For months now we’ve been in and out of doctors offices trying to get answers and figure out what is at the root of some issues he’s been having. Just before we left for Ethiopia we started getting some answers and moving in the right direction. It’s encouraging to make progress, but we’ve also got some hard things to process. Things that won’t go away and mean that our daily lives are going to look very different than we anticipated. It’s a lot to deal with all at once.
So I spend most of my “down time” being quiet. Sitting on the couch with a cup of tea. Praying. Crying. Crying a mother’s tears for her babies. Wondering. Wondering what tomorrow will bring and hoping it involves rest. Waiting. Waiting for more results, more labels, more answers from professionals. Waiting for emails and phone calls to bring good news and that forever reunion with our girl. Hoping. Hoping that I make the right choices for our children, for our family, for their future. Hoping that we can all see the beauty and good in the midst of the heard and heavy.
Two verses are bringing me great comfort and hope right now:
“But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.” Isaiah 43:1
I feel like I’ve been asked to do a lot of waiting in my life. That’s okay. It’s not easy, but it’s what God has chosen for me and I’m alright with that. I draw a lot of hope from the promise that the Lord with renew my strength as I wait.
“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” Romans 8:28
A relative shared with me yesterday that my great-great grandfather had written in the margin of his Bible “when I need courage for a task” next to this verse. I found that so special and so encouraging — a heritage of faith and seeking courage and strength in God’s word. I have to believe that in all of the hard God is molding together something so good and so beautiful that it will blow me away when the masterpiece is finally complete.
Whenever I need a reminder that God is at work I need only look at this…
… and remind myself that He loves my children infinitely more than I do (even if that’s hard to imagine.)