{written yesterday}
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I have lived a lifetime this week and it is still only
Monday.
Baby Girl (who is 9 these days) was baptized in beauty and
love and living water, surrounded by family on Sunday as she said yes to Jesus.
My open-aired barefoot church split at the seams with family old and young, and
even the nonbelievers among us lifted hands to Him and it was the kind of
beauty that is still making me weep 28 hours later.
I was asked to be a part of somethingso incredibly close to my heart, so vital to this blog community, so honest
and real and out of my league that it, too, made me weep for good things.
But I am weeping today for things that don't feel good or
right at all, things I don't know how to justify or make sense of, things that
shouldn't be and searching to find God in it all.
A phone call with our adoption caseworker left me sobbing
into the phone, as muffled by red tape as the pleas of our boy caught in the
system have been, and equally as unheard, then later, louder, into the nape of
my husband's neck with pounding fists at the injustice of a child whose future
is reduced to manila and copy paper and black ink while his heart swells with
anger and nobody hears.
She heard, though. She heard me when I said I will fight for
him, lady, and keep fighting and sucked breath sharp and mean and bit my lip to
keep the rest of it inside.
Brokenhearted people have to clean their floors too, it
turns out, so I mop the floors with tears and soap and scrub like I can lift
the dirt off the world with elbow grease, taking out anger on the tile while
polishing it with apple-scented solution and somewhere in here is a Garden of
Eden metaphor but I'm too tired to find it.
I nauseate and the sky tumbles dark and green too and bolts
of lightning flash in the distance, sky all sad and angry and it's Him to my
heart saying, "Yes, I know, dear One. Me too."
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Linking to Imperfect Prose, a sacred space where our souls can breathe... so, so blessed to be a part of this. Join us over there, will you, and be blessed?
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Linking to Imperfect Prose, a sacred space where our souls can breathe... so, so blessed to be a part of this. Join us over there, will you, and be blessed?
This is beautiful. Raw and heartbreaking, but beautiful.
ReplyDeletesearching God with you and praying for HIm to part the red tape!
ReplyDeleteoh no. oh cara. how i ache for this child. Lord, bring him home... bring him home...
ReplyDeleteThank you Emily. I wrote this Monday. Today, whole new worlds of hope opened in the way of legal progress and a really, amazingly great guardian ad litem joining our fight. It is so easy to feel like nobody hears, nobody sees and he is so trapped in this mess. But God sees... and I am never surprised at the way he overturns my version of impossible. <3 Thank you very much for prayer.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Heidi. Things are already looking up and I am blessed. I appreciate your coming by!
ReplyDeleteThank you for your kindness, Melanie.
ReplyDeletePraying for God to unravel the knots in the system...I have two adopted grandchildren, one who'd adoption took several years...believing for a speedy resolution for yours.
ReplyDeleteThis touched me so deeply. I imagine for this child, knowing that you are fighting for him, how much you want him must be some kind of balm for his heart. Perhaps remembering this will ease yours as well. I know it isn't the same as having to hold in your arms, but it is very real and important connection. God willing one day soon the red tape will unravel, the red eyes will be clear and your boy will come home to complete your family.
ReplyDeletecan i just say i just got a tiny bit angry too for this dear little one too. for you? the holy kind. the kind that's full of the love that every person has the right to feel. that thunder means he's with you darlin'. he's rolling strong over these hills, these valleys of life. he's beside you. i'm beside you.
ReplyDeleteThat's the thing, isn't it--He does know and these things make Him angry, too.
ReplyDeleteSite is looking great. Did you get the ideas from Pinterest? :)
...Yes, I know, dear One. Me too...we are of one heart when our heart breaks in pain for the lost and hurting...thanks for sharing and prayers to you as God sets right and makes the path for you dear one to come home.
ReplyDeleteYes...IP...sacred place it is...you will be blessed and and blessing~
Thank you, Ro for your words. The blessing? Already feeling it. Truly a gift. Thanks for coming by here and for your encouragement.
ReplyDeleteOh Nancy, I love you just a little bit more every day. {Even though I spit coffee all over myself when I read that. Aren't you the funny one?} Actually, I nearly considered dropping the "whimsy smitten" angle but your comment helped me come to my senses. I love whimsy and I think it's "me" and part of this whole weird place I call a blog, so really... you're to blame. ;)
ReplyDeleteThank you for holy anger on our behalf, for these words that blessed me right open this morning, You are a gift, Tara.
ReplyDeleteI hope so. I'm not sure he really knows it all yet -- the distance is great, unfortunately. But God is in control and this is not the end of the story. Already, miracles are happening that I couldn't even begin to hope for. Thanks for your sweet words, Laura, for touching my heart by taking the time to encourage me.
ReplyDeleteThank you for your words and prayers. They are a balm for me in this impatient time. We'll wait years if we have to...praying we don't for his sake. All else aside, His will be done here, in our home, in our boy's heart, in the broken system of foster care. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteCara, prayers for you and your distant little one. I think about the Father and our adoption into his family and how some of us take so much longer to come to him that others. But in the end, we're no less adopted. No less His. Sincerest prayers to Him that your little one will be home soon.
ReplyDeleteThank you for this Eyvonne. This reminds me to have proper perspective. He is 15 and I am wont to feel that time is running out, but God has a plan and in the end, he will be "no less adopted." All he is going through now will be part of his story, will be what God uses to draw his heart in some day. I believe this and wait on Him. Thank you for prayer and healing words, friend.
ReplyDeleteI can't imagine and won't pretend as though I can. But what I do know is that God loves him more than any human can. I have to say the same thing to myself over and over, where my son is concerned: let him go...God loves him more than you [I] do. I trust that he is surrounded by angels and that there is a plan not only for this boy, but for you and for everyone else involved. I'll be praying, Cara.
ReplyDeleteoh cara, this isn't right, and my heart aches, too. prayers for your family and sweet boy. He is able, our calmer of storms.
ReplyDeleteOh wow, this is powerful. Praying for you and your boy out there bound by red tape. May he know how hard you are fighting for him and feel your love, and the love of Christ.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Courtney. Progress has been made since I posted this and though we're still waiting, there is new hope. Thank you for prayer.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Suzannah. He is able, indeed. Thanks for prayer.
ReplyDeleteYes. I am trying to be mindful of God's providence in this, that He will do what is right whether it's what I understand to be right or not. Thanks for prayer and encouragement.
ReplyDeleteI am catching up on blog reading and I just love this! I am SO, SO, SO, SO thrilled for you to be a part of administrating at Imperfect Prose. What a beautifully perfect fit for you, my friend! Love you!
ReplyDeleteThank you, sweet Lindsey. Love you too, girl!
ReplyDelete