Explaining the waiting
Several friends have told me they check this blog for updates on our adoption process. Well, I have an update. It's not an update about us being told who our child is... yet. I know that day is coming, but not yet.
It is an update on the wait. I want to describe what this waiting feels like, so that I can remember in five years, when my long-awaited precious child heads off to school, and I cannot remember the time so long ago before I knew him or her.
I think I finally found a way to describe the emotion I feel now, waiting for our child -- to explain it to someone who has not adopted. Imagine that you have two children: ages 4 and newborn. Then imagine that a man takes the newborn, and tells you that he is heading to Mexico for the next two years with your child. He also explains to you that for the coming months, your child may go hungry. Your child may not have clothes or baths. Your child might cry and cry, without any comfort. Your child might have ear infections, with no doctors to even find them. (I should add that this man loves the child, and longs to provide for him or her, but because of his circumstances, he simply does not have the means.)
Now imagine how your heart aches to protect this -- your beloved child -- from all these sadnesses. And now you are beginning to imagine how the wait feels.
God has already given me a love for our child beyond any love I could ever imagine. This love He has put in my heart is such a precious and painful gift. To love a child is to want to protect and nurture and cherish him or her for always. Not being able to do so in the wait is... difficult.
And this is why I cling to the verses of God's infinite care for the orphans.
I should also conclude this by saying that this afternoon, God reminded me again that the care of our child is His job. He will show love to our child now, while I have no way to. It is not my task to worry about how or where or when we will be able to take our child home. He has my child in the palm of His hand.
It is an update on the wait. I want to describe what this waiting feels like, so that I can remember in five years, when my long-awaited precious child heads off to school, and I cannot remember the time so long ago before I knew him or her.
I think I finally found a way to describe the emotion I feel now, waiting for our child -- to explain it to someone who has not adopted. Imagine that you have two children: ages 4 and newborn. Then imagine that a man takes the newborn, and tells you that he is heading to Mexico for the next two years with your child. He also explains to you that for the coming months, your child may go hungry. Your child may not have clothes or baths. Your child might cry and cry, without any comfort. Your child might have ear infections, with no doctors to even find them. (I should add that this man loves the child, and longs to provide for him or her, but because of his circumstances, he simply does not have the means.)
Now imagine how your heart aches to protect this -- your beloved child -- from all these sadnesses. And now you are beginning to imagine how the wait feels.
God has already given me a love for our child beyond any love I could ever imagine. This love He has put in my heart is such a precious and painful gift. To love a child is to want to protect and nurture and cherish him or her for always. Not being able to do so in the wait is... difficult.
And this is why I cling to the verses of God's infinite care for the orphans.
I should also conclude this by saying that this afternoon, God reminded me again that the care of our child is His job. He will show love to our child now, while I have no way to. It is not my task to worry about how or where or when we will be able to take our child home. He has my child in the palm of His hand.
Isaiah 49:15-16
15 “ Can a woman forget her nursing child,
And not have compassion on the son of her womb?
Surely they may forget,
Yet I will not forget you.
16 See, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands;
Your walls are continually before Me.
And not have compassion on the son of her womb?
Surely they may forget,
Yet I will not forget you.
16 See, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands;
Your walls are continually before Me.
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