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
15th 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
