Outside my window the scene is typical of northern California at this time of year. Gray, cold, damp. The hills in the distance are hiding behind a thick fog that still hasn't lifted since this morning. I remember this past summer, when there was scarcely a cloud in the sky for over four months straight. The contrast seems so strange to me now, but I always find myself more partial to the grayness.
Chris and I have finally finished up our adoption home study application, which has been in process for almost three weeks. We each completed our personal questionnaire, which consisted of forty questions asking us to divulge our life story. We sat together on the couch last night and shared our individual answers to each question, curious to see what the other person had written and how similar or different our responses were. My finished questionnaire was 9 pages long, single spaced, and Chris's was 16 pages.
It's funny, after almost six years of marriage, I can start to feel like I know most everything there is to know about my husband, but this adoption process is reminding me that each person is an onion. Layers are gradually pulled back, and just when we think we've reached the center, we find more pieces of skin that have not been exposed yet.
How intricate and deep we all are--is there ever an end to it? Is there ever a limit to the amount of knowledge we gain about one another, or a cap on the level of intimacy we can reach in relationship? It seems infinite, not only with one another, but particularly with God. I hope the journey never ends.
One of the things I love most about this adoption process so far is the exposure. This process is like a microscope, shedding light and magnification upon things that aren't always been visible to the naked eye. As we unveil places of our past to one another, to our social workers, to our adoption agency, it's giving us more perspective, more clarity, about the story that God has written for our lives so far. There are dark places we don't like to revisit, but when we allow these places to be illuminated by a focused lens, there is much beauty to be found as well. We are learning more about ourselves, about one another, and about God. It is scary and freeing all at the same time.
I love the thought of infinite intimacy - especially with God. That feels hopeful to think about sharing that with Him.
ReplyDeleteFor me, it hurts sometimes to have those dark places illuminated. But I keep asking God to shine light there anyway because I desire more with Him. Yes, scary and freeing indeed!
Oh man I love the onion analogy. I am thinking too that along with the infinite layers, it also makes you cry when you start cutting into it just like our lives. Perhaps peeling and unfolding them layer by layer is preferred--not quite so painful! But once you cook that onion, it mellows so much and is the undertone of flavor of so many wonderful dishes. Once you peel and get beneath the surface of anybody, the warmth of knowing that person so deeply starts to appear and can add such a wonderful flavor to our lives in the form of friendship. True intimacy--yes, the onion!
ReplyDeletePraying for you on this incredible journey!
Hi Libby,
ReplyDeleteI just found your blog through facebook. Love your writing! And I didn't know you guys were pursuing adoption, we are soo excited for you guys! Eric's sister just finished all their "stuff" and just got their profiles out and are waiting for "the call". We'll be praying for you guys too in this process!