Thursday, October 1, 2009

Here goes...

So... the reason I haven't written much in the last few months is because I don't want to sit down and really think through it all. It's easier to distract myself from reality regarding Kelvin and Hawa. It's just hard to feel the emotion of all of this right now. For me, writing it all down requires me to really hash it all through to come up with what I think about the matter... and I just don't know what I think. But I'll try... so here goes...

If you read the post before this one, you have an idea of where the process is. It is going nowhere, and nothing is happening. Not even for the children whose adoptions were virtually completed. We have been told that our best chance to get our children home is to find someone in the US State Department who can advocate for us.
Well, I called that person, as have many adoptive parents, and I had to be borderline pushy in talking with her just so she wouldn't cut me off. There doesn't seem to be much compassion or hope for advocacy there... but I hope I'm wrong, cuz she's supposed to be our "best shot".

We are facing the reality that things may not turn out the way we had hoped and planned. We still have hope, and we continue to press into the Lord for a miraculous turn of events.... for the heart of President Sirleaf to be moved into God's agenda... for these many children, for Kelvin and Hawa, to come home. But the question has settled on my mind often...

What if God brought us to this place so we could care for their needs... but not to be their literal parents?

We have no doubt that the Lord has directed us here. None. But I do find myself unable to fully be confident of the outcome that I always had assumed would take place. I can no longer say that I KNOW that God will allow the kids to come home to us. What if he brought us together so that we can help them to be raised in Liberia; providing food, schooling, and medical care long-term? What if? Would we do it?
Absolutely... no doubt, and with great joy.
Is that what I want?
No.
I want to hold them and love them and raise them to know Jesus, and watch them develop incredible bonds with Asher and Anika. I want to watch the clouds together and take them to the lake, read good books and spin and dance in the living room. I want to be their Mama.

So, we are continuing to pray for God's mighty intervention and for our children to truly be "ours" one day. But if the Lord asks us to surrender that to him, we will need his deep grace to do it. We want to please him above all. Believe me, I don't say that flippantly or lightly. It is a sacrifice of praise to say those things aloud, or to write them down, and often, just saying it makes me cry because it's painful. What I want and what God wants for me are often two very different things. I need him to mold me to be more like himself so that I can truly say, "Lord, not my will, but yours."

On a last note (not because it is unimportant, but because it is of the utmost importance), I talked to two dear friends of mine yesterday who told me that their children are praying for Kelvin and Hawa everyday.
Everyday.
No exaggeration.
That alone blesses me and makes me want to cry. But you know what is even cooler? They have faith that God will answer them. They're kids... we tell them to trust God to take care of the things on their hearts, and they do.
I want to be just like that.
One of the little girls (she's 4)prays that God will open the gates of Liberia, and that their President will let Kelvin and Hawa come home to us. In her sweet child-like mind, she imagines there's a literal gate around the country of Liberia, and she prays the God swings the gates open so that my kids can come out. You know what's funny in a profound sort of way? That's exactly what it is. The gate may not be literal, but it is real... it's just a spiritual reality instead of a tangible one.
The battle belongs to the Lord.

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