I thought I'd be there by now. I thought my feet would have been covered in the dust from Africa. I thought my son would be home. But two years and six months after beginning our journey we will be counting ourselves blessed to call it halfway. This is not what we expected, this is not what we had planned for. And some days I have no problem with that, and some days I do.
Some days I want to scream loud enough so that every governmental establishment would have to hear a mother's anguish over children who are not considered worthy of our time simply because of the their birthplace.
And some days I don't want to have to explain why we are doing this over and over to people who don't really care and are simply satisfying their own gossiping curiosity.
And some days I don't want to explain how we really don't see color at our house and how no, it doesn't matter to us that he is black and yes, we know that bothers others but (politely & with a southern smile) that's not our problem.
And some days I don't want to explain how it's possible to love a child you don't know to people whose idea of family consists of bloodlines.
And everyday I want better words to explain to people how God can devastate your life with a love so overwhelming for him that you don't recognize who you are anymore. And that same love will motivate you to do ANYTHING he asks. Even if that means traveling a total of 32, 588 miles to a country & culture you've never experienced before to bring his child into your family. Even when no one else gets it. Especially when no one else gets it.
And some days I have no fight in me at all. I fear those no fight days much more than the screaming ones. And throughout the process I often ask my God what is he up to? Who is he trying to make me into? I wonder how much more change I am capable of? How many more nights will I hear my children pray for their brother to be safe, to have food, and to have someone to hold him until he is here? And I look around and see the devastation we wreck upon each other and I ask for God's protection over his child. And because this process is stretching into forever I start to wonder, "Is this ever going to happen? Are we ever going to get there?"
"What I have said, that will I bring about; what I have planned, that will I do."
If God has said he will do it, he will do it. He keeps his promises. In fact, by his very nature, it is impossible for him not to deliver. So for everyday that I'm struggling I'm still holding onto this promise. I'm claiming it, because as his adopted daughter, that's my birthright. And if you belong to him, it's yours too. Whatever you are facing, he's going to deliver. We may not understand his timing, but Isaiah 46:9 says,
"I am God, and there is no other;
I am God, and there is none like me."
so how could we? We are the clay, not the potter. He makes us into a vessel that's perfect for his glory not the other way around. And though I may not understand how this journey is moving, he does. Every single delay, every single document that expires, every child that is matched to a family before ours, every single step has been planned by him. And my choice is this, do I trust him to deliver, or not?
"For unto us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace." Isaiah 9:6
"Because he poured out his soul unto death, and he was numbered with the transgressors. For he bore the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors"
These scriptures tell us he has already delivered on his greatest, most amazing promise. He sent his son, Jesus, to be our redeemer. So, if he can trade his son for me than surely I can trust him with mine.