Patience has never been my greatest strength. I’ve found myself in the passenger seat on more than one occasion, questioning why we are turning off the expected path. Why are we not taking the most efficient route to reach our destination? We don’t even have to be in a hurry to arrive somewhere for these questions to enter my thoughts. Perhaps you can relate. Our minds are just wired to conserve time and energy. I think it’s also fair to say that living in a convenience-obsessed culture rarely permits us opportunities to develop said virtue. Don’t get me wrong. I love ease and comfort just as much as anyone. And yet my heart sinks a little to realize that this tendency – being driven by a desire for prompt accommodation – makes choosing the long way seem reckless at times. Foolish even.
As we began sharing our adoption journey, we were surprised that the first question almost everyone asked was “What type of adoption are you doing?” Maybe most everyone knows the answer to that question before they even begin the process, but we honestly weren’t sure. Though we’d become familiar with a less common type of adoption that seemed a good fit for us, we held that desire loosely, trying to remain open to the other possibilities, while moving forward in search of answers.
I had thought we’d have our answer by the end of February, maybe early March at the latest. Little did I know just how long and winding the road would be to reach the point of knowing which path lay before us.
We’ve kept fairly quiet for the past few months as we have been patiently eagerly awaiting one very specific appointment that would solidify the direction of our steps toward building our family through adoption. To give you a better idea of the time-frame, we submitted a deposit and initial application to set up this particular consultation back on February 10th. It wasn’t until March 29th that we officially had our appointment scheduled for the earliest available opening: June 27th… Which meant another three long months of enduring the lane that had come to a standstill – waiting for that date to finally come around.
Some family and close friends knew we were anticipating the day’s arrival, but there just wasn’t much to say or do until we knew the outcome. Considering we had completed all of the home study requirements, we’d reached a plateau in the adoption process. Soon all of the what-ifs crept in to the void that had been previously occupied by to-dos. What if all this waiting ended in disappointment? What if dedicating this time to one possibility turned out to be a waste?
I tried to stay positive. I prayed incessantly for patience, peace, and perseverance. And yet the longer we waited for answers, the more frequently those days arose when I questioned everything. Not the least of which was questioning why this road had to be so long? Why are we not taking a more efficient route to reach our destination?
It never ceases to amaze me how uncomfortable the state of being still is. It exposes something about myself when oftentimes I’d much prefer distraction. Yet the stillness forces me to see what’s really there, deep down in the dark recesses of my broken self. This time, the stillness revealed the vulnerability of wanting something I have absolutely zero control over. I longed to rest on a bed of indifference. Yet this deep desire had taken root and begun to grow.
Some days I wake up confidently resting in the peace that God’s plan is perfect. But those days are the exception. Most days, the pain of wanting and waiting and wondering have to be combated with truths. A human condition that, in all honesty, I have a hard time accepting in myself. I know better. I ought to BE better…
Right?
Or maybe not.
Throughout this past year, I’ve prayed, perhaps more fervently than ever before, for a stronger faith. I’ve reached the end of myself so. many. times. And each time, it gets a little easier to turn to God’s Word for answers, discovering more about all of the messy humans that God used, not because of their perfection, but through a recurring pattern of them crying out and asking God to be who He is. Even David wrestled with his emotions and desires (Ps 31). Who am I to think I should – or even can – be better?
This journey has been longer than we ever dreamed it could be. Even learning what our next steps are comes with another far-off date; it will be several more months before we have the possibility of reaching our intended destination. And even then it isn’t a guarantee. I trust, though, that this long and winding road is anything but a waste. That even the moments of pause are significant.
The necessity of taking this journey slow reveals the beauty of the process; it’s about so much more than simply adding to our family. It continues to reveal God’s character to us, shaping us and molding us each and every day. And it is in my brokenness that He shows His love and faithfulness. Not by shaming me or holding against me how imperfect I am, but by revealing His own character… how GOOD HE IS. No matter my circumstances.