(Before I go any further, please let me say this… This isn’t a pity post…nor is it a post meant to be a guilt-trip. What this post IS is me being genuine. I am a big believer in sharing our journeys with others, in being authentic. Real. Accountable to our Christian brothers and sisters. I also know the good that can come from hearing a perspective we’ve not yet had and yet, how healing it can be when you ARE there and suddenly you know your feelings are shared, not just yours to carry. They never were, really. So, as you read, I pray you see beyond the black and white and into my heart laid bare.)
There are days when I feel like it’s all coming together, when I can see the puzzle pieces snapping together.
And then, there are days like this – days where there seems to be a huge gap from where we are and where we need to be. And I struggle.
I am at awe for what my God has done for me. My heart swims in a thousand emotions all fighting to break the dam in my eyes and come flooding forth. I hold back, emotions swirling. But, really I just want to let it all gush forth, even if it does all come out in jumbled rambling. I want to praise Him; I want to bring Him glory. I look at these little faces around the world. Sweet babies, hurting. The scriptures pound the insides of my head, commanding me to care for His orphans. Not just the ones across the world walking the streets with flies swarming, but the middle-aged man searching, too. Yes, him too. My hands fill out seemingly endless paperwork, stamping here, signing there. Yes, we’re pursuing adoption because through adoption we are pursuing Him. I write another check as I check the bank account again, staring. Willing more money to suddenly appear. I knew the jump would come, when the water would rise higher and we’d be asked to step out of the boat. It’s coming. It’s here.
I know. I know. I know. I know He has called us to this. Of that, I am certain. I watch Him move on our behalf in amazing ways. Big things, small things…it’s all big to me. I watch in utter gratitude but then it happens… I fall back, struggling with that left undone. Wondering, sometimes doubting. What thankless child am I? How can I be so ungrateful for that He has just given me that I am now stumbling, wondering how/if He’ll provide for the next.
My eyes, lifted as my feet stumble. I feel my body struggling with itself, my feet saying to my eyes “look here” and my heart intent to look only upwards, seeking only Him. Refusing to believe the lies and the earthly ties that bind. Because nothing can tie up or bind or stop my God. So, why do I wonder?
It’s not how I had imagined. A beautiful puzzle, many pieces. Names written in, a beautiful story told – A story about how God uses many to bring his beloved home. My son, somewhere out there. I had imagined a sea of names, of close friends and family members scribbled in frantic joy. Instead, I can hold the few all in my hand, but I recognize only a few names. I am so grateful for the ones there, but I struggle with the missing pieces. I struggle. And, I hear again the harsh words that have been said to us, echoing. Bitterness creeps into my mouth, threatening to be swallowed, to sink it’s tiny barbs into my heart. I have failed. I’ve been failed. My heart cries out, and yet I’m reminded again, that this isn’t my battle. Not this one.
And, i struggle with my human flesh.
In one breath, I’m both hurt and ashamed at the things I feel. Ashamed because I know it’s not the point, GOD is the point. But, hurt because when things were turned the other way around, I WAS there. And, I would still be there. Constantly re-processing what friendship and family means, what i thought to be true versus what is.
But, it’s so so hard. It’s no fun to have backs turned, tongues jabbing at you. It’s no fun to be met with stony silence.
And here we are.
In a few days, we will write the last check from our savings. We will step out of the boat. My flesh is terrified, but I also know that my Savior saves and walks on water and that HE CALLED US TO THIS. I know that he loves these children far more than we could. That this is big to Him. I know that He will heal my heart from the harsh words that have pierced it, His unwavering love like a healing salve. I know that my God will use others to knit this story into a beautiful love story of redemption and grace and ALL of the Glory will go to Him. I know that my God is bigger than all of these little stumbling blocks I keep getting distracted by.
I know these things, but am thankful for every reminder, nonetheless. And, sometimes my feet drag and I struggle because I’m tired and I feel so blind. Please bear with me.
“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” –Philippians 4:13