In the Wait

Last summer when we received our first referral, I wasn't expecting it. I had just told a family member that I expected to wait at least six more months. So when we got the call, I was shocked. I was thrilled, but I was definitely shocked.

I'm not going to rehash the whole long, miserable story, but for those who haven't followed our story, a month, to the day, after meeting the little girl who we thought would be our daughter, we lost the referral. It was horrible. We grieved, and we mourned, and we picked up the pieces and pressed ahead.

Fast forward to now. Am I still grieving? No, I can honestly say that I'm not. I still have moments of wondering about the "why" behind it all. I still pray daily for little A ... for her health, safety, and provision. But I'm not sad and angry and hopeless about the adoption anymore. I can't pinpoint when I stopped being sad. It wasn't as if one day I was sad, and the next I wasn't. It was more of a gradual lessening of my sadness until one day I realized that my happy moments far outweighed my sad ones, and hope had begun to grow inside of me once again. If you've ever found yourself hopeless, for any reason, you know what a tragedy hopelessness is. Life without hope is hard. Thankfully, it didn't last long for me, and I've grown to appreciate the blessing that it is to hope for a daughter.

But  . . .

Sometimes hope can become impatience if your not careful. And that is where I find myself on many days. Hopeful, but also very impatient. I feel like the little child who thinks if she just stomps a little harder and screams a little louder she'll get her way. And y'all, I have had some foot stomping moments. When I wasn't expecting a referral, the wait was much easier, but now that we are actively waiting to hear something, it is frustrating.

I want a referral.

I want to travel to Bulgaria.

I want to meet a little girl, and hold her hand.

I want to wrestle with all the uncertainties and joys and fears and beautiful moments and tragedies that come in the package we call adoption.

I want a daughter.

I want it all.

So I find myself in this strange place of waiting, and not knowing quite how to do it with grace. Not knowing how to be content with my situation. Not knowing how exactly to embrace the here and now and not wish the days away.

I pray a lot. I read my Bible. I ask God to forgive my impatience. And along the way He sends me reminders that He is with me. He remembers us. He hasn't forgotten. I'm so thankful that He's so gracious with me. I know He loves me.

I don't know how to end this. I don't have an answer to it all. I don't have a big revelation of how to get through something like this. The only answer I have is to continually go back to God. If I have to release this to Him 150 times a day then that's what I'll do, and I'll keep moving forward. It's the only way to go.