Reflection and Release

There’s something especially gratifying about the intimacy and calm being wept upon the earth on this dreary autumn day. The foliage is vibrant and unmistakably transforming, with just enough remaining emerald to offer a striking contrast to the warm brilliance that abounds. A sycamore sways overhead, uniting the wind and rain in a melodious sonnet. Clinging to its rusty covering as each crisp remnant of yesterday becomes saturated, and is ultimately surrendered to the imminent shift in seasons.

The To Do list beckons, yet the invitation to delight in His splendor commands resignation. I grab my journal and sit on our deck, grateful for this much needed opportunity for reflection and release. Equivocally marveling at how once again, His timing is beautiful and flawless!

It’s been almost an entire year since we officially submitted our application to a local adoption agency. And that doesn’t count the years we spent thinking and praying about it, or the months we held on to that paperwork, paralyzed by an abundance of unknowns. In all of that time, excitement has been a challenge for me. I wanted to be at the end, but I wasn’t certain that would ever come. I held my breath every step of the way, just waiting for the disappointment I believed to be bound for. Wrestling with doubts and afraid it was foolish to release our yesterdays, and risk exposure to the uncertainty of whether spring will materialize, I clung to a covering that was withered and decayed.

BUT GOD meets us in our apprehension and reminds us that when hope hurts, we aren’t called to despair. We are called to dependence. To walk by faith, not fear. To surrender our desire for control and comfort, and to willingly stretch out our arms in a joyful dance declaring our confidence in Him. (Excerpt from “When Hope Hurts)

Sometimes hope is a deliberate choice. Not a condition of our circumstances.

Lately, though, Kel and I have been trying to recall how it felt to anticipate parenthood without reservation. Did we have that look of  longing in our eye every time we walked by a child? Did we gush over all the cute baby things or get lost in conversation about what it will be like to add littles to every single aspect of our lives? I’m pretty sure they call this condition baby fever. And whether or not we had it back when we first decided we were ready for adding to our family, we have officially caught it this time around. Both of us. In an embarrassing kind of way that makes me extra thankful for all of the dreaming (read: window shopping) I can do from the comfort of my own home.

To be honest, this jubilation feels a bit like immaturity. Which is sad, isn’t it? Perhaps it is the cynicism that comes with being a thirty-something who knows a thing or two about loss and disappointment, but I honestly cannot remember the last time I stepped so fully and carefree into anticipation. The difference this time around, is that we have a more experienced approach to channeling our excitement. Of course there are dreams for a future, but there is a greater celebration for exactly where we are today.

Where, exactly, are we today?

So glad you asked. Over the past few months, we’ve been poring over hundreds of profiles and now know the specific embryos that will become ours. THAT’S HUGE! I’ve been trying to think of how to best describe this feeling in more familiar terms, and from what I’ve experienced through friends who’ve gone through international adoption, this would be similar to having a photo of the child that will be joining your family, but still having paperwork and process before you can bring them home. Our hearts are attached to a life that already exists, and there’s no going back to who we were before.

There is one truth in particular that I am especially grateful to have as I reflect on all that He’s brought us through over the past several months of waiting and wondering… God doesn’t waste time, or experiences. In a world that’s all about immediate gratification, we ought to keep in mind that we serve a God who created seasons. Each with its own beauty and lessons.

I’m not one for claiming to have all the answers, but I do stand behind sharing authentic experiences so that others may be encouraged. If my experience or the lessons I’m currently learning can be an encouragement to anyone walking through a season of waiting – whether it’s for a lifetime , a child, or answers – my prayer would be that she take away this…

Be careful to not rush through this season or busy yourself to the point of missing what God has for you in this. Be watchful. Be listening. Find opportunities for reflection and release, and accept invitations to delight in His splendor.

-m