I’ve been sick. My mind has been hazy. And in such a context, I have a hard time trusting my words. They can go either way: crisp insights or messy emotional ramble.
Before Christmas Eve I reached out to the jurist, to thank him for his lifeline of availability and generosity in communicating with us, outside his scope. And sure enough, he came through with an update. The file awaits its decision to open it up for adoption.
Ah… This adoption is a mirage. February is our new oasis. Two more months. The file awaits the verdict somewhere in the annals of the courthouse. The winter holidays came upon the officials with ample notice to not leave work unfinished, and yet, some things are not as urgent for some as they are for others. So we wait.
After affirming the power of belief, I find myself whispering spent: “I believe, please Lord help my unbelief”. I struggle in my faith, but not with desperation, just confusion. And I’m trying to distinguish God’s voice. He touched my soul through the simple words of a friend: “God is present; He does not forget.” In truth, it is not our faith that makes things happen, but God almighty, with His power, through His love.
Adoption must feel like a mirage for many waiting families. The journey through the desert. Longing to arrive and rest. Reunited at long last. Quenching the thirst. Pouring out love, a spring that wants to burst forth and give and celebrate family born of brokenness, healed and miraculously formed by God’s grace.