In the middle of a very unusual baking spree today, I decided to make an impromptu call to our dossier specialist to “check-in”. Truly, it was for no good reason; I just needed to talk to somebody. I hoped to hear something like, “Shellie! I was just getting ready to call you! Good news – your dossier has been translated and we expect that you’ll be in court in no time.” I thought maybe I’d get off the phone feeling a mix of emotions ranging from utter glee to sheer panic (seeing as our adoption fund account balance is currently $0.00. I’m not exaggerating… ZERO. Yikes.)
I guess the good news is that there’s no reason to panic. I learned that it will be roughly 6 months before we’re home with Jecoah. My heart sunk to my knees when *Mary (*names changed to protect the innocent…) so nonchalantly shared this little tidbit. She must have heard it in my voice because she sure was sweet and sympathetic after that.
I know that there are NO certainties in the adoption world. I know that 6 months really means 9 and “healthy” really means “healthy, with the exception of… I know that we’re blessed to have received a referral so quickly after the fiasco of losing the triplets. I know, I know, I know… All that knowledge doesn’t make disappointment any easier to swallow. I want my baby and I want him now.
If you know me, know of me or have read this blog before today, you may have deduced that I have always and continue to struggle with my need to control everything. I like to blame it on my only-child status but the truth is that I’ve nurtured this less-than-desirable trait of mine for many, many years. It’s only since I was saved a few years back that I’ve begun to seek out the freedom that only comes by way of surrender to Christ’s will for my life.
There is considerable comfort to be found in the fact that this adoption process – the good parts and the bad – were ordained by a sovereign God long before He lay the foundations of the earth. He knew that I would always struggle with control issues and by His perfect design, He has lead Brad and I to pursue adoption, one of the most uncertain and impossible to control scenarios I can imagine.
Today is hard. Today is disappointing. Today pretty much sucks (sorry, Mom…). And, today, I’ll continue to seek out direction and comfort from the One whose very name is Comforter. I’ll rest in the comfort that He gives through my brothers and sisters who love me, love Brad, love our family.
I might even pluck these uncomfortable contacts out of my eyeballs, put on my ugly, can’t go out in public glasses, slip into my wouldn’t-be-caught-dead-in-public sweats, crack open a pint of Chubby Hubby and watch a sappy movie….
Until then, I love you all today. You love me and encourage me, even on the days when I’m especially unlovable. What a gift you are, sweet friends…
2 Corinthians 1:5
“For as we share abundantly in Christ’s sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too.”