I spoke with our wonderful social worker, Ashley, two weeks ago. She was so very encouraging, but she said that the agency wasn't sure what exactly was causing the delay in referrals other than paperwork and investigations into the orphan status of children who WILL (very shortly!??) be referred to families in our agency. Many families are also in the final phase before bringing their children home and a new in-country staff is working overtime to get them to the finish line. We could very well find out this week that we have made a 10 place jump to where we anticipated we would be when we were added to the list 4.5 months ago. Or we could still be #30 a month from now. Who knows. God knows.
He knows our son intimately. He knows whether he just celebrated his first birthday or is still in his mother's womb. God knows. And he knows the family that must make the hardest decision I can imagine. He knows where my child is, why he is there, and how long we must wait to be united.
I've had this dull ache in my gut that is becoming much more frequent; a deep soul recognition that my family is incomplete. We've had some sweet family moments over the past few weeks (or I should say - I've savored some sweet family moments, for they are plentiful for the savoring if I would open the eyes of my heart to seem them as such.) In those moments of contentment and delight the dull ache catches me unaware with the persistent claim that someone is missing.
Emerson and I have long said that we are far from done adding to our family and anticipate what some might consider to be many more biological and adopted children joining our home someday. It's not in that general way of desiring a big family that ours now seems to me incomplete, but it is a specific - there is someone in particular who is missing. The eyes of my heart are constantly searching my home for a baby boy with curly black hair, velvety coffee skin, and round, deep brown eyes. It reminds me of the final days of pregnancy when the desire to hold baby with arms begins to eclipse the delight of life growing within. At least when I was ready for Juniper to just GET OUT ALREADY! I consoled myself into thinking that I was helping her towards that goal by
I feel helpless, but God knows. I don't even know what my son is needing right now that I am not there to supply, but God knows. I cannot be with my child, but God is. The very best that I can do for my baby on the other side of the world is that best that I can do for the babies under my roof - I can pray. Truly, am I not always incapable of meeting the needs of my children - even here in the land of emergency rooms, ATMs and 24-hour Wal-Marts - without the power and provision or the Glorious Father? Am I able to accomplish anything of temporal or eternal significance apart from the indwelling of his Holy Spirit?
As I wait (and wait and wait and WAIT!) for the homecoming of my son I am not more helpless than I always am. I wait, as always, on the perfect timing of Him who works out everything in conformity to the purpose of his will and so what more can I do than to wait on my knees, calling out to our Father who knows my son and will always be the source that supplies his every need.
I was touched by a blog post from some friends who are also in the long wait for the referral of their child. Would you join us today, not by praying for us as we endure the uncertainty of our wait, but by praying specifically for our little ones who wait for a family a world away? Pray for those who take care of them while we cannot. Pray that our children would be shown love and have their needs met in a timely and compassionate way. Pray that they would know that they are wanted.
Thanks for all the love and support and prayers as we wait!
