Just Beneath the Surface

We began this adoption process over 2 1/2 years ago.  We have been on the waiting list for 2 years.

I hate waiting - nobody likes it, I guess.  I've always been bad at it.  Even the smallest waits are unsettling.

I was reminded yesterday of the hope in a tulip bulb.
A bulb = a small ball of possibility; a piece of the future; a promise.
We have one job when it comes to bulbs - the prep.  We dig a hole and set it in.
We feel so involved in the beginning.  We gently, excitedly prepare the delicate little package.  We create the bed.  Cover it for a long sleep and begin the wait.

It's a strange task really, but we are motivated by the thought of what will spring forth.

Then, we wait.

I can't prod it.

I can't dig it a little closer to the surface.

I can't even see it.

I just wait.

All the work happens under the dirt.  All the rooting and sprouting.
All the work is His, the Giver of all life.

He holds it.  He nurtures it.
When no one sees.

We wait.  We hope.
We hold on to the promise.

Then, at the appointed time, the perfect season...
The ground breaks.

There's a glimpse of green.

Every promise suddenly comes into view, and life appears from the dust.
Then, I can join the Father in nurture, in care, in protection of the beauty He brought to my life.

I wait today.
I wait with hope.
I don't wait on the Ethiopian government.
I don't merely wait on a list.

I wait on the Lord.  (Psalm 27:14)
He renews my strength.
He fulfills His promises.
He is the Rescuer.
He gives life.

This wait is only a hint of the great wait, the real anticipation of all life.  All creation waits for the fulfillment of what God began.  We all long for REAL LOVE to win.  REAL LOVE to return.
We wait on our Lord and Redeemer.  We all long to be rescued.*
One day.
It is the hope of all hopes.  It is promised, and He will come.
And we know it's True...
First - because He said.
And second - because of these small promises.  These small waits.  They are proof.
The bulb - though hidden, dormant, and invisible - arises as promised.

No matter how dark the days; no matter how cold the winter;
Love wins, and Hope prevails.

So even in this small wait,
Even though so many precious blooms are waiting for their moment of Spring,
I will wait as long as it takes to behold my beautiful flower. 
There is hope, just beneath the surface.

*Romans 8:18-27

The Walls Will Crumble!

Our Bible story was Joshua and the battle of Jericho.  It's such an amazing story of faithfulness, obedience, and miracles.  We read it and talked to the kids about how the people did exactly what God said.  They marched around the city, around the big fortress walls.  They marched and waited and marched and waited.  The people inside laughed at them.  It didn't make sense just to march.  A waste of time.  Silly nonsense.  But God had told them to march, so they marched.  They were obedient, and then it was time.  God told them when to shout, and they shouted!  They didn't know what would happen, but they had been holding it all in for seven days.  When it was time, they shouted.  Our faithful, powerful God responded to their cry, and the walls crumbled to dust.  The walls that stood between God's people and the promise he had for them - crumbled.  How awesome!
And again, it was God who worked on their behalf.  They didn't hit the walls.  They didn't charge.  They shouted.
God said shout.  They shouted.  God crumbled the walls.

We explained to our kids how important it is to allow God to lead us.  He tells us what and when.

We have been praying for miracles for our sweet little girl.  We have been praying miracles for all children who are lonely and waiting.
We believe.
We believe with all of our hearts, because God's will is that no one is an orphan.  He wants all of us to "dwell in the land He has promised".  Joshua followed God and led God's people, and God was faithful to their obedience and to His promise.

We went on to pray as we always do, holding our prayer cross for our girl.  That night we prayed again for miracles, and we used that story of God's faithfulness to pray.
We prayed for the walls to crumble!!!  The walls of government!  The walls of paperwork!  Everything that stands between our daughter and us!  We told God we will keep marching.  We will march and march until it's time to shout.  Praise God!  One day we are going to shout!  The walls are going to crumble!  My daughter will come home!  Because He is mighty to save! - Zeph. 3:17  


Adoption is long; it's confusing.  But my God is faithful and mighty, and He works MIRACLES.
We have marched since February 2013 and we will march until she is home.  

Please pray with us!!

The walls will crumble! 

 

We BELIEVE

This is the artwork we made at the One Heart Adoption Family Night last November.
I finally mounted it and "framed" it so we could hang it up.
I JUST CAN'T WAIT to hold the sweet, little hand that goes on the heart tree!!! 

My spirit is restless!!!

Every Page

I tend to set a lot of goals and try to have high expectations for myself.  I believe each of our stories, our lives, are a piece of God's story.  I want to be a piece of God's story. 
But - Sometimes it feels like many of my pages "don't make the cut", sort of like the pile of crumpled paper by an author's trash can.  Writing is usually full of revisions and scratched ideas.  A writer takes a page full of scribbles, wads it up, and tosses it to the nearest trash can.  I have envisioned many of my days ending up in that pile.  I have moments and times where I feel like I have been a part of God's work.  I hope and strive for the pages that might end up in a beautiful manuscript of God's love, but that trash pile seems to grow.

There are days that seem unimportant in the grand scheme.  I fed my family, made it to work, got the kids where they needed to be, and even snuck in a few hugs.  Nothing that changed the world.  I wouldn't even call it the most successful attempt at the normal.  I know I'm in God's story; that He is in the midst of it all.  But, most pages of my life seem insignificant.

Then there are seasons that seem to just disappear or feel more like a gap between here and there.  Times of waiting.  Times of wondering.  In many ways waiting for adoption can seem like a gap, as if pieces of our lives are on hold. 

Times of worry and hurt are the hardest.  Why would those pages be included.  You really just want those to disappear, anyway, and be thrown even farther than the trash pile.  Sitting in a surgical waiting room.  Watching monitors in a NICU.  Worrying in the middle of the night. Praying for healing.    .  .  .  .

It's true.  I would like to pick and choose the pages God includes.  (I haven't even mentioned the ones of true failure.  When I lost my patience, was too lazy, or couldn't get my kids to stop fussing.)  I often assume that God is also picking and choosing which parts can be included.

I've realized that my feelings are wrong.  My view of my pages is not the same as God's.  My "unimportant" days are important to Him. (Psalm 139: 1-16)
Even the seasons of wait are fruitful in time. (Psalm 25:5)  God can use those days to teach me, strengthen my spirit, or lead me to help others.  Waiting just becomes an excuse, an excuse for complacency.  We have to press forward and make every day count.  We can't wait for the perfect scenario or for things to line up the right way.  We act in faith and obedience.

Times of hurting don't make sense.
They are not God's will, but He is there. (Psalm 73:23-26) (Psalm 23:4)  Don't throw those pages away.  They bring us closest to the depths of God's love, and He uses them for good.

Thankfully I am not the editor of this life, and I am seeking to also relinquish control as the author.  I am living God's story.  He is using me, in spite of me.  Every day is a piece of His work.  My life is an offering, as imperfect as it may be.  Why?  You might be wondering.  Why and how can He use every page?  Why would He even read some of them?  Because the black ink is gone.   My life is written in red. (1 Peter 1:18-20)  Every page.

Miracles

We have prayed for our little girl for almost two years now.  I search for words as I fumble through desperate pleas on her behalf.  My God is mighty, so I ache to lift up any phrase that will bring His love and power upon her life.  The word that keeps coming to my lips is Miracles.  Sweet Miracles.  God's awesome intervention.
Hope in the desperation.  Love in the loneliness.  Peace in the fear.  Safety in the turmoil. 

I don't even know her needs.  I don't know the hurt and loss that will bring her to our family, but I know God does.  I know His hand is upon her, and I pray for Miracles.  Whatever her needs are, may they be met.  May she feel love in every moment.  May she eat when there is nothing.  May the legal system move swiftly.  May every barrier that stands between my sweet daughter and the love of a family crumble at the feet of my God, who is mighty to save.  Miracles.
I am pleading, and my God is answering.  Miracles.

Give thanks to him who alone does mighty miracles. His faithful love endures forever. 
-Psalm 136:4