truth telling

I’m trying to tell myself the truth, but the minute I seize to do so, the lies start infiltrating again.

Exactly one week ago we got a call from our adoption agency case worker, Tiffany, telling us that we got our log-in date (LID).  This is a big deal for us, as it means that our eight months worth of paperwork has officially been accepted by the Chinese government.  Tiffany will now have access to all the orphans in the databank to look for our Ren.  Up until this point, her access has been limited, only able to view older children or those with more serious needs.

After she gave me the good news, I asked her how long she thinks it might be before we get our referral--before we find out who our boy is.  She said that the biggest hinderance at this point is Lucy’s age, as Ren must be at least ten months younger than her.  Lu is 20 months now, which means Ren must be no older than 10 months, and Tiffany said that most of the boys with more minor needs are at least 12-18 months at the time of referral.  She said we may just need to wait for Lucy to get a bit older.

Some days I’m okay with the waiting, such as last week, when Lucy dropped a load in the hallway during the brief two minutes I had her out of a diaper, and as I cleaned up the mess, I wondered what it will be like to add another child to this already chaotic equation. Some days I’m okay with the waiting because I trust that God knows what is at stake for our family this coming year.  He knows about the cross-country move ten months from now, the house we need to put on the market or find renters for, and the community we will lose and have to rebuild, yet again.  He knows the physics of all the aspects of life currently in motion.  He knows the precise, perfect moment when our hearts will collide with the boy we haven’t yet found.

And then there are days when I loathe the waiting and sink into a deep, dark funk because I’m tired of watching this process go so much faster for everyone else.  Some days I loathe the waiting because I don’t have anything to tell people when they ask, “So, how’s the adoption going...have you heard anything yet?”  Some days I loathe the waiting because, like Eve in the garden, I butt up against my compulsive need to know.

This conundrum of conflicting emotions is ever present.  I’ve had thoughts like,

What if we weren’t supposed to do this?  What if this is all a big mistake?  What if we didn’t really hear God’s voice at all?  What if I’m deluded?  What if this timing is all wrong?  What were we thinking?

And then I resurface from the darkness for a few moments and a stream of light shines through the clouds, reminding me that this is the sanest thing we’ve ever done, and that any endeavor that requires supernatural patience and the full embrace of mystery is typically straight from God.  

And sometimes, in the weak moments when I need it most, He sends me merciful little whispers that coax me along despite my self pity and doubt.  One of these came a few months ago, just about a week before we received our long-sought-after immigration approval letter, in the form of a phone call from a woman I’ve never met in person.  

Her name is Esty, and we have a mutual friend, Tiff, who put us in touch last winter, when we were both praying about beginning the adoption process.  Esty has an incredible story, starting out adopting from China, only to be drastically redirected to Uganda, where their little girl was waiting for them all along.  Esty had called to tell me this miraculous story, which yields tears and goosebumps every time. Hearing it gave my sullen spirit a major jumpstart and refreshed my belief that God’s timing REALLY is PERFECT (it’s not just some trite Christian cliche)! Before we hung up the phone that night, Esty said, "Libby, yes, there are a lot of other families waiting...but no one else is waiting for Ren.  He is your son."  

I am still hanging on her words, even now, as I continue to struggle with the waiting.  Our case worker said last week that it may take up to six months from now to find Ren (because of Lucy’s age) and that it will most likely take another six months after the referral before we can travel to get him, which means it could be a whole year from now before we are bringing him home.  We are already nine months into this process, and her forecast does not fit into the 12-15 month timeline we were originally told.  I’m desperately trying to re-gauge my expectations. And in reality, we could find Ren next week, so there really isn’t a whole lot to go on.  Only faith.  Only Him.  At the end of the day, what else is there?

This morning I read,

Patient endurance is what you need now, so that you will continue to do God's will. Then you will receive all that he has promised.  --Hebrews 10:36

And then there's this,

May He give you the power to accomplish all the good things your faith prompts you to do.  2 Thes 1:11

And this one too...

You do not belong to yourself, for God bough you with a high price.  1 Cor 6:19-20

These verses keep my waiting in perspective.  

This is the truth I’m telling myself today.