On Waiting and Dreaming

I thought this morning about going into the closet in Allison's room and looking at all her stuff. Y'all her closet is full of stuff for when she comes home . . . bags and bags of bedding and decor . . . clothes and dresses that may or may not fit (if they don't we'll give them to friends and family) . . . the sweetest little rocking chair and stuffed animals and toys from her aunts . . . books (tons of books) that were mine that I hope she reads one day, but I'm well aware she may hate to read (and I'm okay with that . . . they're still hers if she wants them :)). She is already richly loved (not just because she has things . . . those things are just evidence of the love that is in our hearts), and she hasn't even stepped foot on American soil.

But I haven't gone in there yet. Mostly, because the longer we wait, the more I try not to think about it. Yes, I pray everyday, most days multiple times, for her well being, her safety, and for her to come home soon. But I also try not to dwell on waiting. Some might say it's a coping or defense mechanism . . . don't think about, and it won't be so hard. The truth is, however, that while I want her home (like yesterday), I can't live in the future. I can't live in tomorrow, and forget about today. Andrew will be 6.5 in April. Can I stop time please? I don't want to wish away today dreaming about tomorrow.

So yes, I'll probably go look through her closet here in a little while. I'll think about my daughter. I'll wonder where she is. I'll dream about the day we meet her. I'll pray for her, and my heart will ache for her . . . that ache never really leaves. Then I'll close the closet door, and I'll be present right where I am. I'll love my family. I'll watch my son grow up (too fast), and I'll trust God that one day, in the hopefully not so distant future, I'll be wishing I could stop time for my little girl too.