But Tuck was so excited to show his daddy. He begged me not to take down the fort so we ate our lunch as a picnic on
the living room floor and left our monument of 20 minutes of work and 5 minutes of play up until the end of the day. By 5 p.m., Tuck could hardly stand it any longer. He sat on the couch, looking out the window for his fellow dragon slayer to walk through the door. Waiting.
So many people around me are waiting. Waiting to finish school. Waiting to sell a house. Waiting to move. Waiting for a baby. Waiting for a baby to start sleeping through the night. Waiting for healing. Waiting for Mr. Right to come along. Waiting to be back under the same roof as loved ones. Waiting for answers. Waiting for relief. Waiting for their child to be well. Waiting for financial stability. Waiting for time to heal wounds. Waiting for reconciliation. Waiting for a promotion. Waiting to feel loved. Waiting for support. Waiting for peace. Waiting for summer. Waiting for life not to seem so hard.
February marked one year since Ben and I decided we were pursuing adoption. When we passed that date I have to admit I was discouraged. We were discouraged. We thought we’d be further along in the process by then. In my discouragement, I pulled out my journals from the past year and there in my notes were the themes that My Redeemer had been writing across my heart for the past 12 months…. trust, dependence, sacrifice, patience. I could see the whole picture in those pages … verse after verse, quotes and scribbled prayers all pointing to His faithfulness … even in the waiting.
In the waiting, we’ve been reminded about the importance of community. We need it. Others around us desperately need it. The fellowship of His church is part of HIS carefully woven plan.
And we have been overwhelmed by the community that we have been shown. We’ve smiled over emails and blog comments, notes, and Facebook messages of encouragement. We’ve received kind words from strangers, donations from people we don’t even know. We’ve been standing in the hall in church when someone slipped cash in our hand and left us grappling for words. We’ve sat stunned in our living room as we’ve opened checks inside envelopes. Friends have cared for our kids while we’ve had a homestudy, a yard sale, attended an adoption seminar, and even while I’ve sewn. Sweet sisters have sat at my dining room table cutting out appliqués, organizing and folding what feels like a million t-shirts, cutting tags, and making me smile through my exhaustion. Our college students have amazed us by their thoughtfulness and generosity. People have bought shirts, attended painting classes, donated to and helped with our yard sale, plastered our cause all over Facebook. My own sweet little four-year-old has written two “checks” for us “to help with the adoption” (pretty sure those are frame-worthy). We’ve laughed and cried from astonishment and joy of how He is using people to minister to us, to walk beside us, to remind us of His faithfulness, to water our mustard seeds, to encourage us while we wait.
And bit by bit, month by month, He is sowing His Peace in our hearts. We’ve felt the “village” surrounding us and through the “village” we’ve felt HIM. We have one year behind us and still several years to go. And in the last two months, on hard days, I’ve had to pull out my journals again to trace my finger over His promises. And I am sure I will have to read them many times again. But His promises are there, always in His Word for me to see, for me to cling to. Our waiting is not in vain because even it is part of His intricate plan. We trudge on together and we fill ourselves up with HIS promises and remind ourselves daily that sometimes the long way is God’s best. And we pray that our little family will know how to be the village for others who are in the waiting too.
Ben came home that afternoon and four little arms tackled him at the door and led him to their fort. And being the dad that he is, he immediately disappeared under the table into an imaginary world where colorful fabrics make the best castle.
Three people went under but all I could see were one pair of feet sticking out. And it was a reminder to me. My prayer: that while we wait, we will be transformed more and more into Our Father’s image, that in the end … people will see a whole lot less us of us and a whole lot more of Our Savior.
It’s sitting at HIS feet while we wait that we find our Peace. And we are privileged to be sitting at His feet with so many beside us.