Today we received word that our paperwork for Libby was submitted. What a very, very big day for our adoption.
Not hours later, we also learned our worst fears were confirmed: that all efforts for the US Department of State to continue negotiations with Russia concerning the adoption ban were effectively finished.
Although this was something we had been processing for a long time for Mac, today’s Russian delegation offered hope to the families who have met their children. I have to admit, the joy mixed with the anguish was confined to the virtual real world of Facebook. And it’s only making it harder.
Today, I felt joy with every breath I inhaled, then grief with each exhale. There is nothing else quite like it, and I don’t care to repeat my today…ever. Instead of sharing my husband’s relief that there was now nothing stopping us from pursuing Libby with our whole hearts, the grief of my friends, as they broke all sense of Russian propriety and quietly posted the faces of the children who had remained hidden for too long–held in their own arms…Lord, it was a glimpse of Your pain.
One day I hope to sing this song to my Mac, as miracles happen and he becomes ours forever, but until that day comes, I will trust in the Lord, and know He will finish the good work He has begun in us until the day when we are all united in Christ Jesus.
Too heartbroken and exhausted for a photo montage to go with this song, which I always envisioned filled with pictures of Andy and me wrapping our new son up safely in our family forever. But, you get the idea.
And, no, I wouldn’t trade this heartache for the ignorance that could be creating a false sense of peace today either, with the plight of orphans worlds away… No. Our son might only ever have our tears from so far away, but I know that God will find him there…and he will know in that hidden place in his heart, our love. Because God built it into him.
A dear friend who was a NICU nurse for many years saw proof of this. She said that the babies who were alone because their parents wanted to, but couldn’t be there, did better than the babies who were all alone.
And that is our peace. And we will surrender our perfect lives of creating heaven for our little house. We continue to choose to love as we have been loved. We will fight for those who our loving God sees and hurts for every day, asking those who believe to see them, too.
Even when it’s so very, very hard, we will.