Temper Tantrums

When I was a little girl, I threw a fit right in the middle of the mall.  It was a full out temper tantrum with tears and whining and fully embarrassing my parents.  I was a fighter, and I wanted a book.  My heart was broke.  It was just a book. 

The depth of my heartache right now is beyond anything little teenage me could even begin to understand, and it would fill the pages of any book I could write.  The love a mom has for her children begins to grow the minute she discovers she is carrying a baby.  It’s a love that is so strong you would lay down your life just to see your child smile. 

In December, we signed our first papers on our second adoption.  The love I am only beginning to understand for my children is so strong that it refuses to tire.  I fight for them daily.  I call out to God on their behalf, hourly… and sometimes more.  Just the thought of their beautiful faces takes my breath away, and when I think of them in Ethiopia without me there to hold them, my heart breaks. 

I know she is crying.  She expected us to come just days after her 15^th birthday.  That’s the way it is supposed to work.  Do an insane amount of paperwork, turn it in, wait.  You have a BRI (Birth Relative Interview), you submit to PAIR to prove that your children are truly orphans, and then you wait some more.  You do another BRI, complete your investigation on your children, receive a PAIR letter and then a MOWCYA (Ministry of Women, Children and Youth Affairs) letter, and then you go jump on a big plane… all in a week. 

That is the plan. 

That is not our story. 

I am not on a plane. 

I am not holding my son and daughter. 

I am sitting alone in the mountains crying out to my God who promises me that if I trust Him, He will far exceed my expectations.   

I’m waiting. 

Waiting for a phone call… every day for the last two week. 

Waiting for the tears to stop falling down my cheeks.

Waiting for God to hear the crack in my voice as I cry out to Him. 

   GOD!!! Can you hear me!?! 

   Are they still crying out to You?  Do You hear them?

   Do they still trust You? 

   Are they loosing hope that their turn to be part of a family is slipping away?

   God!  Do you hear us???  

   Are our voices loud enough to reach You in this noisy world?

You wouldn’t stay away at a time such as this, right? Not the God I know!  He draws so near that I can feel His breath on my skin, but my strength is running out.  Adoption is not for the faint of heart! I feel defeated and weak and struggling to live out the holy discontent that resides in my soul… defend the orphan!  Be their voice.  Plead their case.  I am unable to do anything more than draw near to You, and expect You to be my strength.

I will fight for those two orphans until the day You set them in our family, under my roof, and held tightly in my arms.  I will fight for them when they loose hope. I will not let my heartache pull me anywhere but straight into Your loving arms. 

Even in the midst of my spiritual temper tantrums, Father, I am crazy about You.  I know You love them more than I do.  You know my heart. Even when I was just a little girl, You created in me a fire to fight for what I want.  It may have come out as a whine in the middle of the mall, but I’ve grown up.  At least a little, right? 

"Come close to God, and God will come close to you.”  James 4:8a