In her grief and longing, she worships.

Then Hannah prayed and said:

“My heart rejoices in the Lord;
    in the Lord my horn is lifted high.
My mouth boasts over my enemies,
    for I delight in your deliverance.

“There is no one holy like the Lord;
    there is no one besides you;
    there is no Rock like our God.

“Do not keep talking so proudly
    or let your mouth speak such arrogance,
for the Lord is a God who knows,
    and by him deeds are weighed.

“The bows of the warriors are broken,
    but those who stumbled are armed with strength.
Those who were full hire themselves out for food,
    but those who were hungry are hungry no more.
She who was barren has borne seven children,
    but she who has had many sons pines away.

“The Lord brings death and makes alive;
    he brings down to the grave and raises up.
The Lord sends poverty and wealth;
    he humbles and he exalts.
He raises the poor from the dust
    and lifts the needy from the ash heap;
he seats them with princes
    and has them inherit a throne of honor.

“For the foundations of the earth are the Lord’s;
    on them he has set the world.
He will guard the feet of his faithful servants,
    but the wicked will be silenced in the place of darkness.

“It is not by strength that one prevails;
    those who oppose the Lord will be broken.
The Most High will thunder from heaven;
    the Lord will judge the ends of the earth.

“He will give strength to his king
    and exalt the horn of his anointed.” (1 Sam 2:1-10)

Today I felt as if I will implode. The adoption process is not ratified yet, even as many other businesses opened since Friday, some very up, close and personal, like hair salons and dentist offices.

Every day I have to choose wisely, even when I don’t feel like it. Pray. Wait. Trust.

As I prepare for the backlash of pent-up frustration from my daughters, I brace myself, and hope they let me have it, instead of stuffing it down. This pandemic has stretched all of us thin, and has shaken us up. For the little ones I can take it. I didn’t cause this havoc and the delay, but I played the waiting game, obeying the law.

I realize my frustration with the system is futile. Though I wish I could express my opinion to them, I doubt they can hear it or take it. I all of a sudden feel protective of them, as I have prematurely began to be protective of my own parents. I see their limitations and human vulnerabilities. Today, after I reached my rock bottom, I got all entangled in scrolling through the internet for updates on the adoption legislation. I can’t imagine how uncomfortable it must be for our social workers, caught in the middle, between waiting families and kids, and the lack of timely decisions and clearly disseminated information.

So I pray for them too. The beauty of prayer is that, it’s like the light that floods a dark place. Instead of mulling over inaction or ineptitude, I pray that God covers them with grace. That He fills their heart with hope and kindness. May they do the best they can, and when they go home to their families, they are not worn out and burdened. May they be refreshed.