Today marks one year for us on the Honduras adoption list. I have a range of emotions and I’m hesitant to write about it because I feel like I don’t have the perspective yet that I need. I’m confident that in a year or two I will look back at this day and have deep, insightful thoughts about purpose and meaning and timing.
But, today is today and my perspective is this moment.
They told us a year ago that the goal was to match families within a year of being put on the list. I was so optimistically hopeful that by today we would be a family of five sitting around the dinner table. At the very least I was hopeful we would know the name, face, and gender of our soon to be 5th family member.
365 days later, we sit at #31, with an empty bed that longs to be filled.
Tomorrow I’ll write about all the ways God has answered our prayers over these past 12 months, but today I am sad. I am sad to still be waiting when my heart has said all along, ‘go!’
We have had to walk through some tough stuff this year, and it wasn’t the tough stuff I pictured. I envisioned attachment issues and sleep problems and cultural differences. Instead we faced cancer and friends moving away and transition at church and leaking pipes.
I have felt adrift these past months, like being tossed here and there by waves. It’s hard to find my footing when the biggest waves come unseen. I want to be on dry land, on the other side of this all, but truth be told I’m not sure where the dry land is and all I see is sea.
We have been memorizing James 1 as a family. Last week’s verse was
If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you. James 1:5
This week’s verse is even more fitting.
It’s hard to be waiting and longing for that next little person to join our family. It’s difficult to lack a clear time frame. It puts my stomach in knots to know about the global orphan crisis and to sit and wait. It’s sweet to hear the kids pray for their sibling, but heartbreaking to not have that child near. Today I am sad.
Even still, I believe that God hears our prayers and that he wants to give generously. I believe he loves children and desires for them to be in families not stuck in orphanages. I believe that he will grow our family through adoption (in his timing). I believe that this sea around us is for a purpose and that this season has significance. I believe we will touch dry ground. I don’t know when or why or how just yet, but give me a year or two and I’ll let you know.
Until then, pray for us. Pray that today, we would feel God’s comfort and tomorrow we would feel his hope.
Thanks for following us on this journey and allowing me a sad day.