Ambiguous Loss

The past couple of months have been a challenge. It's been more difficult than expected to wrap my brain around the idea that our dossier is likely permanently closed and Molly isn't coming home to us. This is not how I hoped and prayed our story would end.

My heartache has often manifested itself in anger and a lack of grace, usually directed at my dear husband. Honestly, I haven't known what to do with my raging emotions (and anger is my sinful default), and I've never really learned how to grieve well. (No time like the present, I guess.) I'm grateful that I'm seeing the light at the end of this tunnel as I've had time to deal with my sin, process the disappointment with God, and begin to grieve the loss.

There have been a few things that I've wrestled with over the past couple of months, and a friend has encouraged me to write down my thoughts, so here goes:

1) I didn't realize how hard not having closure would be. Over the many months of waiting, I wavered between feeling hopeful and hopeless, and on some days, I still feel that way. It's frustrating not to have a clear answer from Rwanda and to make the call on our own to end the process, based on limited information.

My friend Staci said it perfectly. Without closure, this is an ambiguous loss. I'm definitely experiencing it as a loss, but some days I wonder if we'll get a call saying they've sent us a referral. I keep thinking it would be easier if we had official closure, like a "Yes, your dossier has been permanently closed" confirmation letter. At least we'd have some assurance we'd made the right call.

Regardless of my desires, this is exactly where God has me. It's no surprise to Him how our adoption turned out, and He knows exactly how I feel. Through this journey, I have learned to trust Him more and have experienced His goodness, peace, comfort, and mercy in abundance. I know the Lord is for me. I've learned more about dependence and how to view everything, even what seems like a tragedy, through the lens of His Word and His character, which is always a good thing.

2) It's been hard to know what to say to people. For the most part, I've just waited until I'm asked about the adoption. I don't mind answering questions, but it's not exactly news I want to randomly blurt out. "Oh, by the way, our adoption is over." Plus, I don't have any satisfying answers to the most frequent questions.

• No, it doesn't seem fair. I agree.
• Yes, it's a shame there are so many orphans in the world, and we're eager and willing to bring one into our family. 
• No, I don't understand why the doors have closed to us after we were approved to adopt last summer. 
• Yes, we've tried everything we believe God has allowed us to try. We committed ourselves to their process, and this is the way it turned out.
• No, I'm not upset about the money we've spent, but I am devastated that our daughter will not be coming home.
• No, we don't sense God calling us to jump into another adoption process as this point.

I'm learning that it's okay to not have all the answers. I don't understand why this was the path God chose for us. Maybe one day I will. Maybe I never will. I don't know. Regardless, I'm confident that none of this was out of my Lord's control. Through all the ups and downs, my faith in God's sovereignty has grown, not shrunk, for which I'm eternally grateful.

3) I think the hardest thing for me has been that a lot of people, even those close to me, have no idea of the incredible loss I feel.

But I get it. Really, I do.

Molly never seemed real to them. We hadn't been matched with a specific child, and there was no photograph I could show or personality to describe. I guess some people assumed she was as vague and distant to me as she was to them.

But she wasn't.

In my heart, she has been very real to me, as real as Claire and Meredith ever were in utero. I didn't know Molly's face, but she was already my child. For two years, she has been an integral part of our prayers, our planning, and our hopes and dreams for the future. We've been waiting for her for so long, ready to love her and get to know her.

I've been unprepared for unwitting yet stinging comments from friends and acquaintances, usually in regard to the idea that I haven't really 'lost' anything or that God must have saved us from something terrible.

For the record, I don't see it that way - at all.

The loss has left a gaping hole in my heart, whether I act that way or not. I don't wear my emotions on my sleeve. I realize these comments are much like the unhelpful comments after a miscarriage: "There was probably something wrong with the baby, so it's probably a good thing this happened." Uh, not so much. Please just stop talking.

In these situations, I'm learning to recognize and confess my own sin and to extend grace and forgiveness, as Christ does for me. I know I've said plenty of stupid things in my life, and probably would here if the shoe was on the other foot. I truly didn't understand the deep emotion wrapped up in adoption until this very personal and painful experience. My eyes have been opened through suffering.

Overall, my heart continues to ache for my Rwandan baby. I still struggle with anger about the process, but I'm choosing to receive this 'no' as from the Lord, not from any person or country. More than anything, I want what God wants for me, for her, for us. I just never thought this is what it would be.

The Plan All Along?

I haven't written anything in a long time because I haven't known what to say. This adoption journey has been difficult, rich, confusing, heartbreaking, and confirming, all at the same time. This is certainly not where we thought we'd be in March 2012.

I spent much of the late fall and the holidays trying not to think about the looming match deadline in early January. As the deadline drew closer, I felt emotionally raw, trying to come to terms with the idea that we may not receive a child, yet still trusting that God's plan for us is a good one.

I got tired (and resentful) of feeling like our lives were on hold, waiting on a decision wholly out of our control, so we made plans to spend Christmas with our entire family in Rhode Island. It was exactly where we needed to be.

Cousins! (ages 8, 6, 2, 3, 4, 2)

Frankly, it was a huge relief when our match deadline came and went. At least that wasn't still hanging over our heads! But I wondered if our Rwandan adoption journey was over and nobody had bothered to tell us.

In late January, we heard - unofficially, of course - that approved dossiers wouldn't be closed. Finally, good news! We knew the wait for a child would likely still be a long one, but we felt hopeful and encouraged once again.

And now here we are in March, struggling to maintain hope in the face of more bad news. It's hard to know what to do or what to think or how to absorb it all. Ugh.

This adoption has been the.hardest.thing.I've.ever.done. It's the craziest roller coaster I've ever ridden. The uncertainty of it all wears me out. Some days I'm totally apathetic. I have to check out emotionally in order to maintain some sanity. Other days I'm angry. I just want an answer. Give me a yes or a no! I can't take the silence anymore!

But most days I can see of glimpse of what God is doing in my heart through this painful process and am grateful beyond measure. Regardless of the outcome, I know I'm a changed person, for the better. Even if this ends without a child, I can honestly say that I'll have no regrets that we answered God's call.

I'm blogging through the New Testament this year, and diving into the Scriptures has helped me daily process what I'm thinking and feeling through the lens of God's Word. It gives me the right perspective and keeps me sane.

Recently, God used Luke 6:12-16 - Jesus selecting the Twelve - to make me think about my view of how God works. Here's an excerpt from that post:

Here is Jesus - fully God and fully man - praying all night to God the Father - all-knowing and all-powerful - about the twelve men upon whom the future of the church would rest. Clearly, this was one of the most important decisions Jesus made, and His actions demonstrate that He understood the weight of it. And still, in His infinite wisdom, He chose Judas Iscariot, who betrayed him.

On the surface, it seems like a bad decision, a mistake. But from this side of the cross, we know that Judas played a critical role in the drama that ultimately led to the redemption of the world. Jesus, and God the Father, knew that all along.

This story is such a contrast to how I often think about circumstances in my life. When I'm convinced that God has led me in a particular direction, I'm surprised when things don't work out according to (my) plan. I mean, I PRAYED ABOUT IT! Hello?!?  I second-guess myself and question whether I actually heard from God. "Maybe I just thought it was God." "Maybe I heard Him incorrectly."

Or - novel concept - maybe this was what God had intended all along. Hmmm.

This adoption process has rocked my nice little view of how God works. (You know the one - I obey and He delivers.) I know God called us to adopt from Rwanda. As much as I know anything, I am confident that we didn't make this up. But nothing seems to be working out. It's been very confusing, emotional, and stressful as we hit roadblock after roadblock. Why would this be happening if God has called us to this? Is it spiritual battle, and we just need to persevere?

Only recently have I begun to contemplate that perhaps this was God's plan all along. No, we're not throwing in the towel, but I'm beginning to wrestle with the thought that we truly may end this journey without another child. And that it may be God's plan for us, even though I assumed differently. Maybe there were things we needed to learn and experience, and this was the vehicle that God chose for us. I really don't know. I can't see the whole picture, the Grand Plan, as the Lord does.

After seeing this example of Jesus again, I'm more convinced than ever that my part is to know God's voice and obey what I hear. I am to live with a trusting heart of expectancy that God will work rather than with expectations of how He must work. It's a subtle but important difference. No demands. Just faith in my loving Father who knows the plans He has for me. (Jeremiah 29:11)

We are still praying like crazy that Molly will come home to us, but truthfully, I'm struggling to wait in hope. Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!

When You See Them Coming

Look up! Look around! Watch as they gather, watch as they approach you: Your sons coming from great distances, your daughters carried by their nannies. When you see them coming you'll smile - big smiles!  Isaiah 60:3 (Msg)

I'm blogging through the Bible in a year, and as I was reading in Isaiah this morning, God surprised me with this verse in The Message version.

As I read it, I imagined myself in Kigali, inside the blue gates of Home of Hope, waiting for one of the sisters to bring Molly to me. Watch as they approach you...your daughter carried by her nanny. When you see them coming you'll smile - big smiles! Oh, Please Lord! Let that be true for us.

Molly is on my mind constantly. We are getting lots of questions from friends, family, and acquaintances about the status of the adoption, and I've been trying to give them a positive yet realistic picture of the road ahead of us. What went from feeling like a sure thing now has a measure of risk that I hadn't anticipated prior to June.

Yet as much as I try to guard my heart, I still have hope that God will bring Molly to us. In my flesh, I want to shut off all of my emotions around the adoption so I won't be devastated if it doesn't happen, but God isn't allowing me that luxury. I cry at the drop of a hat these days. I'm writing this in Starbucks and trying to hide the tears streaming down my face.

Even so, I'm grateful for the Lord's encouragement this morning. I'm not demanding that the Lord come through for us on this adoption, but I am consistently reminding Him that He gave us this desire.  :-) Regardless of the outcome or how much my heart hurts, I know that my God is for me, that He loves me {and Molly} more than I could ever imagine. And He has carried us along for a long, long time. Praise God.

Out of his own love and pity he redeemed them. He rescued them and carried them along for a long, long time.  Isaiah 63:9 (Msg)

But you're our living Father, our Redeemer, famous from eternity!  Isaiah 63:16 (Msg)

One More Step

I cracked up the first time I heard Harry have this conversation with Claire. She was about 18 months old.

He was busy in the kitchen, and she demanded something from him. He turned to her and said, "What am I?" She said, "Busy." He said, "So what are you?" She replied, "Patient." Clearly, they'd had this give-and-take a number of times before I heard it.

It's become a frequent dialogue in our home with both of the girls when they're demanding or oblivious to the fact that others may be occupied.

Last week, my little sister and I were talking with a friend who asked how the adoption was going. I got a little weepy as I explained the latest news. I confessed that it's been hard for me not to check out emotionally in order to protect myself. It hurts too much to live constantly in the pain and uncertainty of it all. I did the "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know God's in control and everything, but this is difficult, and I'm really tired of it."

And then I heard my sister (a hilarious mimic) say, "What is God?" "Busy." "So what are you?" "Patient."

It was perfect for the moment because it very quickly put my whining and demanding in perspective. I appreciated her not-so-subtle reminder that God is sovereign and that He is in control of every detail of this adoption.

That was Wednesday night, and the next morning, as I was dropping my girls off at mothers' day out, my cell phone rang. When I saw that it was Tina, I quickly answered. I was thrilled and relieved to hear that our attorney had our signed approval letter. We have been approved to adopt from Rwanda!

It's great news because it's a very important step closer to Molly. We needed the Rwandan government's blessing. But it's a little bittersweet for me with the new six-month match deadline. It's still a possibility that this process could end without Molly in our family - a heartbreaking thought.

Oswald Chambers is helping me again as I deal with the joy, reality, and uncertainty of this news.

"...how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask Him? (Matthew 7:11)

Jesus is laying down the rules of conduct in this passage for those people who have His Spirit. He urges us to keep our minds filled with the concept of God's control over everything, which means that a disciple must maintain an attitude of perfect trust and an eagerness to ask and to seek...It works on the following principle: God is my Father, He loves me, and I will never think of anything that He will forget, so why should I worry?

Jesus said there are times when God cannot lift the darkness from you, but you should trust Him. At times God will appear like an unkind friend, but He is not; He will appear like an unnatural father, but He is not; He will appear like an unjust judge, but He is not. Keep the thought that the mind of God is behind all things strong and growing. Not even the smallest detail of life happens unless God's will is behind it. Therefore, you can rest in perfect confidence in Him. Prayer is not only asking, but is an attitude of the mind which produces the atmosphere in which asking is perfectly natural. "Ask, and it will be given to you..." (7:7)" 

The referral is the huge hurdle in front of us now, and we continue to pray like crazy that God will bring the child He has for us. Please pray for our little girl, somewhere in Rwanda right now. Please pray for her caregivers and that God's love would surround and protect her. We ache for her to be with us soon and are asking our Father to clear the way for that to happen.

I never could have imagined the twists and turns this adoption would take, and it's not even done yet. At this moment, I'm not sure I would have had the courage to move forward had I known then what I know now. But I am confident that God knew, that He is good - and that's the only sure thing in this whole confusing process.

Rumor Mill

All I can say is "Ugh." The adoption rumor mill is grinding out more uncertainty, more speculation.

Actually, in a way, I'm happy to be on this roller coaster. Nine months ago I didn't think they were going to let us on the ride. But the latest twists and turns and ups and downs are starting to make me nauseous.

How do I process all of this that is 100% out of my control? How do I live in the present and not speculate about what could or might happen with our adoption?

Since I first caught wind of the rumor yesterday, my brain has been working overtime trying to make sense of the path we're on. I keep going back to the basic questions:

Did God call us to adopt?  Yes.

Are we confident that God called us to adopt from Rwanda?  Yes.

Have we heard Him correctly?  I believe so.

Have we done all that is in our power in this process?  Yes.

Although there's a lot that I don't understand, all I can do is rest in the fact that my very good God is sovereign. He is in control of all things. Nothing escapes His notice. He knows more about, and cares more about, our daughter in Rwanda than we do. He knows what He's doing in her life and in our lives as well.

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for wholeness and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.  Jeremiah 29:11

Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.  Proverbs 3:5

And let us not grow weary in doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.  Galatians 6:9

Although my emotions aren't necessarily cooperating, I'm trying to rest in the truth of these verses. I keep reminding myself of them whenever fear or demandingness or anger starts to creep in.

The timing of the rumors is interesting for me. I just finished reading the book of Job yesterday and have been trying to absorb all that God is saying to me through Job's suffering. As I think about this new situation, Job 42:1-2 keeps coming to mind:

Then Job answered the Lord and said: "I know that you can do all things and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted."

"Learn this as you read Job: When you stand before Me in mystery, you will eventually rest within Me in trust. When you can't figure Me out, you will give up the illusion of predictability and control and discover the joy and freedom of hope." Larry Crabb, 66 Love Letters

In this whole adoption process, I have had to give up any illusion of predictability and control. I've had to live in the mystery of how God works. At this point, I can only trust that God's plans and purposes are being fulfilled. I've done what God's asked me to do with this adoption. I have obeyed. We will stay the course until God tells us otherwise.

Things may not turn out the way we hope, but I'm praying and asking like never before.

Unexpected Questions

Both Harry and I have been brought to tears recently by innocent questions from Claire.

Last month as we were helping her understand our family relationships - Poppy is my Daddy, YiaYia is my Mommy, Grandma T is Daddy's Mommy - Claire asked, "Who is Daddy's Daddy?" Harry and I just looked at each other, and I said something like, "His name is Grandpa, but he's not here. He died eight years ago."

Months ago, we had started the discussion about death when our neighbor's dog, Charlie, died unexpectedly. It's been a lot of "Where'd Charlie go?" and "When is he coming back?" Yes, it's pretty obvious that she doesn't really get it.

This week, as Harry was playing with the girls before bed, Claire turned to him and said, "Did your Daddy die?" Harry's not usually emotional about his Dad's death, but he said it caught him so off-guard that he started to tear up. He told her, "Yes, he died." Then Claire said, "Where is he now?" to which Harry said, "My Daddy's in heaven."

Claire's surprising response was, "I don't want to go to heaven." After some discussion with her, Harry figured out what she meant was that she didn't want to die. Harry told her that we all die at some point and assured her that she does want to go to heaven to be with Jesus. :-)

Last night, the girls were jumping on my bed before bedtime. Harry had turned on an Aaron Ivey CD, but I hadn't even noticed. Between jumps, Claire randomly said, "Mommy, is this Molly's song?" I was like, "Huh??"as my head started spinning. The music finally registered in my brain, and I remembered that, months ago, Claire had seen me crying as we listened to the song Amos Story on that CD. The tears welled up in my eyes immediately. Every time I hear that song, it reminds me of our sweet little girl in Rwanda.

Claire turns three next month, and she's beginning to put together ideas and memories that surprise us. I'm floored at what she remembers, and she totally caught me flat-footed last night. I think Molly's been on her mind too. Lately, she's been telling me that she's going to feed Molly and wants to hold her.

But truth be told, I've been emotional all week seeing the photos of Cooper Allen finally being united with his family, along with the stories of other families who have traveled recently. I love what God is doing in the lives of these adoptive families and their precious children. And I'm trusting God that it will be our turn soon enough, in His perfect timing.

Gracious Uncertainty

Next Saturday we hit our 8-month anniversary of being DTR, and the wait has been wearing on me lately. Even so, I'm encouraged about all of the approvals and referrals that are coming out of Rwanda, and it's been heartwarming to be with Aliyah Choy and Drew Schulz. Their sweet faces remind me of how much is at stake in this journey.

But our high number and the rumors of a wait list for younger children make everything seem more uncertain and much longer than I'd hoped. Being a planner, it's hard to have our lives in limbo like this. (I know, that's the reality of international adoption, and I willingly volunteered for this...)

Throughout the past year, I have clung to the knowledge that God is in every one of the details and that He has a grander purpose in this for us, but my emotions haven't always cooperated. On most days though, I'm able to remember that it's less about the outcome and more about what He's doing in my heart.

Harry read me something last night from My Utmost for His Highest that encouraged me at this stage of the process and reminded me of what's important:

"Our natural inclination is to be so precise - trying always to forecast accurately what will happen next - that we look upon uncertainty as a bad thing. We think that we must reach some predetermined goal, but that is not the nature of the spiritual life. The nature of the spiritual life is that we are certain in our uncertainty...

Certainty is the mark of the commonsense life - gracious uncertainty is the mark of the spiritual life. To be certain of God means that we are uncertain in all our ways, not knowing what tomorrow may bring. This is generally expressed with a sigh of sadness, but it should be an expression of breathless expectation. We are uncertain of the next step, but we are certain of God. As soon as we abandon ourselves to God and do the task He has placed closest to us, He begins to fill our lives with surprises....Jesus said "...unless you...become as little children" (Matthew 18:3). The spiritual life is the life of a child. We are not uncertain of God, just uncertain of what He is going to do next."

I'm so grateful for spiritual giants like Oswald Chambers who remind me of the Truth in this confusing process. It helps me to focus on the tasks at hand and to trust God's plan for us.

Waiting

Molly has been on my mind a lot these days, especially with the exciting news of new approvals from Rwanda and with the Choys and Schulzes traveling next week. It's all starting to seem more real to me. Without warning, songs can bring me to tears, thinking about our baby girl over there in Rwanda. We are so ready for her to be with us.

Whenever Claire sees me crying, regardless of the reason, she says, "Are you sad about Molly?" It's pretty sweet. If I ask Claire or Meredith what their sister's name is, both say, "Molly!" It doesn't occur to them to say each other's names. haha

Tonight as she was eating dinner, Claire asked a question that led to a conversation about Molly. She asked, "Do you want Molly to be here?" I told her, "I do. I'm ready for her to come home." She asked, "Where is she?" I said, "She's in Rwanda, and hopefully soon, Daddy and I will be able to go get her." Immediately, she starting getting down from her seat and said, "I'll go get her right now!"

I started laughing and told her that Rwanda is very far away and that we have to wait until people tell us we can go get her. She just looked at me, not understanding, and said, "Oh."

It's now been almost a year since we made the decision to move forward with the adoption, and almost six months since our dossier arrived in Rwanda. I'm hopeful that we'll hear something soon. We're ready!

Meeting Steven and Valence

Not much news from Harry, other than a few short emails, but it sounds like he's having a great time.  Early this morning, he sent me this photo of him with our two ANLM-sponsored boys in Kageyo.

Obviously, I know my husband's various smiles and facial expressions, and this particular one tells me that he's VERY happy.  I love it!

On His Way

Harry left this morning on a vision trip to Rwanda with Africa New Life Ministries.  The girls and I are going to miss him so much, especially on Thanksgiving, but I'm very excited about his adventure.

He arrives in Kigali tomorrow night.  It's going to be a full week of seeing the various ministries of ANLM.  One of the highlights will be meeting our two sponsored boys, Steven and Valence, and their families in Kageyo.

Sunday afternoon the group will visit the Home of Hope orphanage.  I can't even imagine what it's going to be like for him.  He really has no idea what he's walking into.  Harry's also going to deliver our final documents to MIGEPROF (hopefully) to complete our dossier.

Here are some photos before we left for the airport:

Our two-year-old doesn't like to cooperate these days

A family hug

Guess she's fine posing by herself

I-171H - Check!

"It has been determined that you are able to furnish proper care to an orphan(s) as defined by Section 101(B)(1)(F) of the Immigration and Nationality Act."

Thank you very much, Department of Homeland Security and USCIS! 

We received our I-171H in the mail today.  Next week, I'll work on getting it and our updated medical forms authenticated and sent over to Kigali to complete our dossier that's already there.  Or, now that I'm thinking about it, I may wait until Harry heads to Kigali next month, and he can deliver the forms to MIGEPROF in person.

This week we also found out our number - that is, where we are in line to adopt, or at least to receive approval to adopt from the Rwandan government.  I had heard that there were almost 200 dossiers in line, so I was expecting a very high number.  As in the 190s.  But happily, we're 128.  We'll take it!

Earlier this morning, Harry said he felt led to read Psalm 128 as he was thinking about and praying for our little girl.  He walked out of the bedroom and said, "You've got to read this." 

He "happened" to read the Psalm in the Message version:

All you who fear God, how blessed you are!
how happily you walk on his smooth straight road!
You worked hard and deserve all you've got coming,
Enjoy the blessing!  Revel in the goodness!

Your wife will bear children as a vine bears grapes,
your household lush as a vineyard,
The children around your table
as fresh and promising as young olive shoots.
Stand in awe of God's Yes.
Oh, how he blesses the one who fears God!

Enjoy the good life in Jerusalem
everyday of your life.
And enjoy your grandchildren.
Peace to Israel!

Harry and I continue to marvel at how God is working in our hearts and in our family. While it's difficult to wait for our daughter, we are trusting God and committed to using this wait time wisely.  The Together for Adoption conference we attended last weekend gave us a lot to think about in preparation for the arrival of our precious third daughter.

How the Lord has blessed us already with His Presence, friends walking this journey with us, and great resources!  We stand in awe of God's Yes.

The Whirlwind

I think I've recovered emotionally and physically from the chaos we experienced last month with the unexpected announcement that Rwandan adoptions are closing down indefinitely.  It feels a little indulgent to write about it in such detail (sorry - it's really long), but I don't want to forget what God has done.  It's taken me a month to write about it, and as I continue to reflect on all that happened, my faith in the Lord grows stronger. 

No, not because I got the outcome I wanted.  Frankly, the outcome I want is our little girl in our arms and in our family, and we're still a long way from that.  This fire drill was just to get in line for approval from the Rwandan government to adopt one of their orphans.  We don't have any guarantees that we'll be approved, and we don't have any idea of when we'll hear something from them.  I'm hoping we'll know something by this time next year, but earlier than that would be great.

But I did see how much God will do for orphans, and for our little girl in particular.  I was reminded over and over again that God's plans will not be thwarted, that He is all-powerful, and that I can trust Him with every detail of my life.  Nothing is too small or insignificant to escape His notice.  Our God is worthy of all glory and honor and praise, regardless of what He chooses to do or not to do.  And through this experience, He loudly confirmed His call on our lives. 

My one goal on Wednesday, August 25th, was to upload photos from our trip to California the week before.  (Still haven't done that!)  I was planning for it to be a low-key day.  I needed a low-key day.  As it turned out, Wednesday was the start of one of the craziest weeks of my life.

Around 12:30 pm, I was running an errand with Meredith prior to my Mom bringing Claire back from an overnight stay.  In the car, I looked at my email and saw one from Tina with the subject line of 'Brace Yourself.'  Never a good sign so I was cringing as I opened the email.  Here's part of what it said:

I don’t know where to begin. There is no easy way to say what I have to say. I got an email and it is not good news. In fact it is devastating. Through tears I will type these words.....I just learned that on August 30 Rwanda will not be accepting any more dossiers until further notice, which will be posted on their website. It seems that they want to become a Hague compliant country and feel like they need to focus their attention on establishing the new procedures for international adoption and they cannot do this AND deal with the mass volume of dossiers that keep flooding in.

It seems that the dossiers that are already there will be accepted and worked on as soon as possible...but to expect further delays. For now it seems that the dossiers that are there will be processed as they have been processed in the past using the same guidelines...

I tried calling my contacts as soon as I got this email but I can’t get in touch with anyone via phone right now....but I felt I needed to get this out to you all ASAP...even though I have limited details. I am so very sorry. No one had any idea this was coming. I believe even the agencies are unaware of this and you are the first to get this horrible news.

I literally felt like I was going to throw up.  That's what I emailed to a good friend when I forwarded her the email.  I couldn't reach Harry by phone, and my mind felt fuzzy.  Later, I realized that it was almost the exact same reaction I had to my miscarriage three years ago.  (I found out later that Harry had the same reaction as he did to the news of the miscarriage.)  In both situations, I couldn't focus, and I didn't know what to do other than keep trying to reach Harry.  Maybe he would tell me what to do.  (Not my usual reaction...)

A few friends who'd heard the news called and asked what we were going to do, but I didn't have an answer.  I had no idea, and I still hadn't talked to Harry.  I was reeling because I couldn't believe that this was the end of the road on our Rwandan adoption.  We were convinced that God had called us to this.  And we already felt like she's ours, even though we don't know what her sweet face looks like!

Jennie called, and she was the one to dynamite me out of my fog.  Very emphatically, she told me to get on a plane to D.C. and go get our documents approved, that it wasn't too late, that we couldn't give up.  Her confidence got my mind working again.  It seemed like a very long shot, but it certainly was worth trying.

Providentially, Harry and I had a 2:00 meeting scheduled that day at home with Mark, one of our pastors.  In the few minutes that Harry and I had to talk prior to Mark arriving, we decided that we needed to try to make the deadline.  I laid all of our documents out in front of us and realized that we had everything except updated medical forms and the I-171h (U.S. Government approval to adopt), which are documents that can be updated/added to the dossier after it's in Kigali.  We just needed everything notarized, certified, and authenticated.  (Yeah, "just"!! It seemed like a giant mountain at the time.) Thankfully, Mark had heard what was happening, so when he arrived, he prayed with us and offered to stay at the house with our sleeping children. 

Harry and I raced down to his office to have his assistant notarize our documents.  At his office, I realized I was missing one (the Power of Attorney document - kind of important!), so I created it there.  In my haste, I'd also forgotten to grab our tax forms for proof of income, so I had to go back home before heading down to the Texas Secretary of State's office to get everything certified.  (Thank God we live in the capital!)

Reagan and Dave showed up at the Secretary of State's office soon after I did as they were in the same boat as we were.  She mentioned something about a 6:45 flight to D.C., but it really didn't register as an option.  It seemed impossible to make.  I figured I'd take a morning flight so I'd have time to think through everything and make sure I had what I needed.

I got home about 5:00 pm and started to feed the girls.  Harry was looking for flights for me online and mentioned that I'd get to D.C. pretty late in the day on Thursday if I flew out in the morning.  I wasn't paying much attention to what he said, and then about 5:20, I got a voice message from Reagan saying that she was on her way to the airport to try to make the 6:45 flight.  That's when it really hit me that I needed to go.

I started freaking out internally, ran into my closet and started throwing stuff into a suitcase.  Harry didn't realize what I was doing, so we were yelling at each other from opposite ends of the house while the girls were in the kitchen hollering for more food.  Until the last moment, Harry didn't even know about the message from Reagan or why I was packing so frantically.  It was complete chaos, and I felt incredibly stressed out.  Not my best moment.

I literally ran out of the house at 5:35, with the girls screaming for me.  It was awful.  I didn't even have time to stop and tell them goodbye or explain where I was going.  It was going to be a work of God to make the flight as it was.  Amazingly, I hit almost every green light on the back way to the airport.  Without traffic, it takes 20 minutes.  In the full swing of rush hour, I got there in 25 minutes!  Both Reagan and I made the flight, although I wasn't sure what was in my bag, who was going to watch my children while I was away, or what our plan was when we arrived in the middle of the night in D.C.  I was riding a huge wave of adrenaline.

At this point, we were still under the impression that our dossiers would have to be in Kigali on Monday, August 30.  I didn't know how that would happen (even FedEx wouldn't get it there by the deadline), but regardless, I knew it couldn't happen unless all of my documents were authenticated by the proper authorities in D.C.  At the airport, I started crying when Reagan told me that Jessica, a young woman in our church, was willing to fly to Kigali on Saturday in order to hand-deliver our dossiers to the minister in charge of adoptions.  Who does that for someone?!?  I was blown away!  With that news, I was confident that God was in this and that He would somehow make a way for us.

On our layover in Dallas, Reagan and I realized that we'd bought tickets to two different airports - me to Dulles and Reagan to Baltimore.  (A few important details got lost in the frantic voice messages and texts.)  Both flights arrived well after midnight.  When we parted ways in the DFW airport, I called Harry and started bawling.  The adrenaline was wearing off, and the whole thing seemed insane with Reagan but seemed frightening and overwhelming without her by my side. 

How in the world would we meet up in D.C. and get to where we needed to be first thing in the morning?!?  It seemed very scary to do it alone and on such little sleep.  Harry reassured me that God was with me and that everything would be fine.  Thankfully, the way God worked in this case was he gave Dave the good sense to tell Reagan to ask at the ticket counter if she could change to my flight.  Her flight was overbooked so they let her do it.  I was very relieved when she showed up at my gate!

On the plane to D.C., I was so wired that I didn't sleep a wink even though it was way past my bedtime.  I remembered that in the past few months, I've been praying that I would feel desperate for God, that I would draw near to Him in ways I hadn't before.  Boy, was I feeling desperate on that flight!  I wrote down every prayer request I could think of - all of the things that needed to happen on Thursday and Friday in order to meet the deadline.  Just as I was ready to try to sleep, the captain announced our descent into D.C. and the lights came up.

Once we arrived at our airport hotel about two in the morning, we created additional documents for our dossiers and found directions to the State Department and the Embassy.  We also discovered that the State Department only does authentications from 7:30 to 11:30 am.  If we had flown in Thursday morning, we would have missed it for that day!  After two hours of semi-sleep, we got up at 5:00 am to take the shuttle back to the airport, get on a Metro bus for a 40 minute ride to the Metro station, and take the Metro to the State Department authentications office.  We arrived shortly before 7:00 am which gave us time to pray together and get a bite to eat.

Reagan outside the State Dept office


The State Department will authenticate up to 15 documents per person per day, which is not what we had heard from others.  We expected to have to beg them to make an exception for us.  As it turned out, I had 14 document bundles and Reagan had 16, so she handed me one of hers to put in my pile.  No exceptions required.  We sailed right through the process and were done by about 8:15 am.  One of many, many answers to prayer. 

We headed directly to the Embassy and prayed that God would give them sympathy to our plight, that someone would be willing to approve our documents by Friday.

The first man we spoke to told us that it takes a week for the Embassy to authenticate the adoption documents.  We said, "We understand, but this is an unusual situation."  He walked away and soon another man asked how he could help us.  We asked him to authenticate our documents by Friday so they could go to Kigali on Saturday.  He just looked at us incredulously and told us it wasn't possible.  He said that it takes a week or more to authenticate documents, that they already had a big pile of dossiers to authenticate, and that they had just heard about the minister's announcement on Wednesday. 

But this was the man that God had given us - Vianney.  I prayed my brains out right there and said what was on my heart - inarticulate, weepy, desperate.  I told him that we had heard the news the day before as well, and we'd gotten on a plane last night in Texas and flown overnight because this was our only chance.  I remember Reagan motioning to the stacks of documents in our hands and saying, "Please!  These are our babies!" 

It was only by God's grace that he took pity on us.  Vianney very nicely but reluctantly took our documents "since we came all the way from Texas" but would not guarantee that we would have them by Friday.  At that point, I didn't care about a guarantee because the Embassy now officially had my documents in their possession on August 26th!

When Vianney walked away, we both sank into the couch and started crying.  It felt like we'd gotten over a a huge hurdle - the uncertainty had been completely overwhelming in the moment - and I was so relieved and grateful to God that I felt like weeping. 

Since we didn't have anywhere else to be in D.C., we ended up sitting on the Embassy couch for hours, communicating with people by text and email.  We saw lots of couriers come and go and heard Vianney tell many people over the phone that they were not accepting anymore dossiers.  At that point, we thought we were the last ones to get into the Embassy before the deadline.

One particular interaction with a courier that morning stands out in my mind.  As he was leaving, he saw us sitting on the couch and asked if we were waiting for dossiers as well.   Reagan said yes, that we were prospective adoptive families who had just dropped off our dossiers.  He looked at us with a surprising mix of condescension and pity, raised his eyebrows, and said, "Yeah, well, good luck with that" and gave the distinct impression that he thought we were idiots.  Reagan said, "Yeah, we're praying they'll get our dossiers done in time" and with that, he scurried out without another word.  I think the reason that interaction was so memorable to me was because it was on the heels of us seeing all that God had done to pave our way.  My internal reaction was, "You have NO CLUE just Who we have on our side!"

As it turned out, the situation was pretty fluid, with prospective adoptive families and their friends contacting everyone they could think of between Washington and Kigali - Senators, Congressmen, the U.S. Consulate in Kigali, and the Minister herself.  By Friday, it began to look like the ministry would accept all dossiers if they were stamped by the Embassy in D.C. by Tuesday, August 31. 

Reagan and I both got to talk to other families during the day on Friday and encouraged them to get to D.C. as soon as possible, to not give up.  To us, every family that tried to make the deadline represented at least one more orphan who would have a forever family.

When we went back to the Embassy to check on the status of our documents on Friday afternoon, we found out that the person who signs the approval letter was called out of town early Friday morning, so no progress had been made on any files.  Vianney told us to come back on Monday afternoon.

At this point, I desperately wanted to be home with my family.  After three days of feeling so out of control, emotionally I felt like it would be best for me to go home for the weekend and return to D.C. on Monday.  I didn't want to sit around for 72 hours waiting and wondering.  Thankfully, we were able to find cheap flights home, leaving at noon on Saturday.

I ended up staying Friday night with family friends out in the Virginia suburbs, which was a great escape from the chaos.  Reagan stayed in Arlington with a friend of hers.  The next morning, Linda drove me to the Metro station to catch the train into Reagan National Airport.  The usual 20-minute drive to the station turned out to be an hour and a half traffic nightmare.  I've never seen so many cars not moving AT ALL, and I was praying like crazy and trying not to panic.  I really, really, really wanted to go home to my family.  When we finally arrived at 10:20, the line to get on the train was snaking around the parking lot, literally a thousand people waiting.  Another "I think I'm going to throw up" moment for me, along with a few "God, why does everything have to be so difficult this week??" thoughts thrown in. 

As it turns out, Glenn Beck's Restoring Honor rally was taking place in D.C. that afternoon, and I hadn't even considered the consequences for public transportation.  I texted Reagan and said, "I'm not going to make the flight!"  She called me and long story short, she and her friends jumped in their car, raced out to the suburbs to pick me up, and somehow got us to the airport at 11:25 for our 12:00 flight.  My nerves were totally shot!

I was so glad to be at home with Harry and the girls and to be with my church family on that Sunday.  It was just what my heart needed.  I flew back to D.C. early on Monday morning to get our approved documents as well as Reagan and Dave's.  The plan was for me to put both of our dossiers together and FedEx them to Kigali from D.C. and hopefully fly home on Tuesday. 

Isaac and Tara with Vianney

The best part of going back to D.C. was getting the opportunity to meet other prospective families who had flown into D.C. over the weekend.  Two of the families were ones that I'd first spoken to on Friday and had encouraged to come to D.C.  It's amazing what instant connections are formed when you go through such an experience together!

SOOO happy when Carol handed
me my completed documents!

Thankfully, the Embassy workers stayed late and completed my documents on Monday, but Reagan's documents weren't completed until Tuesday.  I was able to put together our dossier and FedEx it on Monday night, but I ended up bringing Reagan's documents back to Austin with me on Tuesday.

Overall, this was such a rich experience of seeing God work, and it answered some questions for me.  I've wondered if I could love another baby as much as the two I have. Through this experience, I don't have any doubt. In our hearts, this baby is already ours.  That was our knee-jerk response to the announcement, and our immediate prayer was, "Lord, please make a way!"  I'm eternally grateful for the Lord's confirmation of our unconditional love for this child.

Yes, we were willing to respectfully accept a 'no' if that's what the authorities along the way told us, but we knew we had to try to make the impossible deadline.  The cost, inconvenience and uncertainty didn't sway either of us at all.  It was obvious at the time that it was the right thing for us to do.

A friend sent Harry an email while I was in D.C.  It put this whole episode in a new perspective for me:

Harry - I do not know if it is my current state of affairs or what, but the picture I see of you & Cici pursuing the "one" life of a small child is such a picture of the Father's pursuit of us. I know the child has no idea of the love and investment being made on her behalf even before she is a part of the family. My prayer is that soon she will know her father and there after her Heavenly Father.

Interceding and tears on your behalf before our Dad,
Bob

It seems to me that's what each of the prospective adoptive families I know are doing - reflecting the love of our Father to a small child who has no idea of the love and investment being made on their behalf.  What a privilege for us to be used by God in this way!

I am so grateful for the Body of Christ.  Brothers and sisters in Christ, many of whom I'll never meet, have sustained us with their prayers, not just for us but for the Embassy workers, who are a great group of people.  And God answered all of our prayers.  He made a way. 

And so we continue to trust Him with the rest of our journey.  What an amazing adventure this has been so far, one that I never could have scripted!

Finally DTR! (Dossier to Rwanda)

I've had intentions of writing about my adventure in Washington D.C., but everytime I sit down to write out the story, I'm exhausted beyond words.  I'm not sure why.  One of these days I'll blog about it. 

God answered so many prayers, and it was incredible to see His hand in the midst of the circumstances.  It really was an adventure of a lifetime, and although it was chaos at times, I wouldn't trade the experience for anything.  One of the highlights for me was being able to meet other adoptive families who were in the same boat and who were scrambling like we were.

The short story is that we made it.  Our documents were stamped by the Embassy on August 30th.  Praise God!  And our attorney
delivered our dossier to MIGEPROF yesterday, September 7th.  We are officially in line to adopt.  We're praying for you, baby girl, and can't wait for you to join our family!

How Embarrassing

I got the urge to clean out closets this week.  I don't know why, but it seemed like a good idea.  We don't have a lot of closet or storage space to begin with, and I realized that the space we do have is filled with who-knows-what.  So I decided to tackle the guest bedroom closet which is full of papers, files, boxes, books, and anything else I can't stash somewhere else.  It's a disaster, and I cringe everytime I open the closet door.

This little task turned into a multiple day project, interrupted by a two-day conference, so we have piles of papers, file folders and junk all over the house - the dining room table, the kitchen counter, the dresser in my room, the mantle in the living room - plus a scattered assortment of stuff to take to Goodwill.  On Monday, I decided that if I was going to do this job, I'd do it right.  That meant dealing with every file and every piece of paper, once and for all.  But I didn't anticipate that it would be an unfinished project when I left for the conference on Thursday morning.  Ugh.

So last night, after the girls were in bed, I decided to finish my project.  I grabbed a big pile of file folders from the mantle, sat down in front of the television, and started sorting.  About halfway through the pile, as I was moving a folder, I looked down to see a folded green document mixed in with a few other papers, between file folders. 

My first thought was, "You've got to be kidding me." 

My next fleeting thought was, "I am such an idiot!!!  I looked everywhere for that."

The very next thought was, "God knew it all along.  He's in control of this too."

That folded green document was my birth certificate.  The one I couldn't find in March so I had to order it from the State Department.  The one that I waited three months to receive.  The one that held up our home study and filing the I-600a.  THAT birth certificate. 

And I apparently had it in my possession all along.  Argh!!

Thankfully, my husband was very gracious about it when I told him what I found.  He wasn't mad or irritated (which is probably how I would have felt if the shoe was on the other foot...)  He just reminded me that God knows the child He has for us. 

I'm not TOO upset about my find because I recognize that the Lord has been working in me though this adoption process, especially in the wait for my birth certificate.  But I confess I am a little embarrassed.

In the Mail

Our I-600A application is FINALLY in the mail!

Perhaps it's just preparation for waiting in the coming months, but the process so far has been frustrating and humbling.  I thought things would move quickly once I received my birth certificate, but I was wrong.  It took an extra month to receive our final home study report.  Sigh.

But we have the report now, and it's on its way to USCIS.  So now we head into the next approval cycle.  I'm hoping our approval will be here in 4-6 weeks, but I should know better than to speculate.  To date, nothing has gone according to my plan...

It's been a tough month emotionally.  Part of it has to do with the apparent disconnect between what I say I believe and how that belief is working itself out in my life. 

I know that God is in control.  I truly believe that His ways are best.  I know I'll never have satisfactory answers as to why things are taking so long.  And intellectually, I'm okay with that.  I don't have a right to know, and I will never be able to see the full picture as God does.

But on an emotional level, I'm struggling.  In a number of different areas of my life, I have a strong desire to control my circumstances.  Between dysfunctional extended family-relationships, a mentally-exhausting two-year-old, the tiresome waiting on others to complete seemingly basic adoption tasks, and my own selfish desires, I have lost my focus on God's way and become wrapped up in my circumstances.  It hasn't been pretty.

I'm grateful for the Word of God and how He speaks to me through it.  In the midst of my struggle, Psalm 131 (Msg) recently reminded me where my hope lies:

God, I'm not trying to rule the roost,
I don't want to be king of the mountain.
I haven't meddled where I have no business
or fantasized grandiose plans.

I've kept my feet on the ground,
I've cultivated a quiet heart.
Like a baby content in its mother's arms,
my soul is a baby content.

Wait, Israel, for God.  Wait with hope.
Hope now; hope always!

I continue to trust God to cultivate a quiet heart in me.  I want my soul to be content, regardless of circumstances.  I will wait with hope, knowing that God is doing His work in me.  Hope now.  Hope always.

Okay, I Believe It!

My birth certificate is here.  Yea!!  It arrived in the mail today.

After waiting for nearly twelve weeks, having it in my hands seems almost anticlimactic, oddly enough. 

But I am grateful to God for what He's shown me about myself in the waiting.  He's got a lot of work to do in this messy little heart of mine!

Um, yeah, I really was born in Libya.  (Mom and Dad can explain that one.)  Was that the reason for the hold-up at the State Department?!?  I'm beginning to wonder...  :-)

I'll Believe It When I See It

Every day for the past week, I've tried to contact the State Department about the status of my birth certificate request.  I either get "line busy" or more often, the phone just rings and rings until I finally hang up.  It's been two weeks since my last unhelpful conversation with them. 

Yes, I was born in a very weird country, but does it really take more than eleven weeks to verify that I am, in fact, a U.S. citizen and to produce one document?  Apparently.

Last Thursday, I finally heard from my congressman's office, who I contacted on May 19 via their website form.  I got a letter in the mail, thanking me for contacting them, and another form asking for the very same information I had entered on their website.  Sigh.

I tried not to be pissy about giving them the information AGAIN and I dropped it by the congressman's local office last Friday, where a fresh-faced young man told me my request would get entered into the system asap.  My first sinful thought was, "Yeah, that would have been super helpful three weeks ago!" but I just smiled and said thank you, reminding myself that God is in control of all things, including my little request.

I realize that my issue is very low on the congressman's priority list, but I've never bothered an elected official for anything before now.  I had hoped for better responsiveness and for him to help speed up the process.  That's not likely to be the case now.

I called the State Department again this morning.  I obviously didn't think I was going to get through because I made the call with two little girls underfoot, so naturally, a real person answered. 

The guy, who remembered me from two weeks ago, told me that my birth certificate was mailed on Monday, so I should receive it by next Monday at the latest.  Woo hoo! 

I'm hopeful but can't totally shake my skepticism.  I'll believe it when I see it.  Still, I pray to God that the guy's information is accurate and that I have my birth certificate in my hot little hand soon!  We'll see.

Progress? Not Sure...

I actually got through to the U.S. State Department's Vital Records section this afternoon.  No one was more surprised than me! 

I got the mail this morning, and there was still no birth certificate.  Argh.  So when I put the girls down for their naps, I thought, "Why not?  I'll try that phone number again, but this time, I won't waste two hours."

On the first try, instead of the maddening "line busy" message, the phone kept ringing.  Good sign.  It took me a second to realize that a real person had answered, not an automated message, and I had to jump up and get the phone off of speaker.

I gave the guy my name and birthdate, he looked up my request, and then our conversation went like this:

"Um, it looks like your request is being processed." 
(Yeah, dude, not super helpful.)
"Okaaaaay.  Do you have any idea when I'll be receiving my birth certificate?"
"Probably soon." 
(Riiiiight.)
"How long does it normally take to get a birth certificate?"
"Four to eight weeks."
"Well, my request was submitted over nine weeks ago, and you cashed my check eight weeks ago, so I'm already over that time frame."
"Um, it's in the hands of a specialist."
"Can you tell what the hold up is?"
"No."
"Would someone actually contact me if there was a problem with my request?"
"Oh, yes."
"Is it possible to find out what's holding up my request?"
"Do you want to talk to the specialist?"
"Yes, I would."

Then he put me on hold.  Even in the moment, I didn't get my hopes up.  Frankly, it seemed too good to be true. 

And it was.

After awhile, he came back on the line to tell me that the specialist had "stepped away from his office" and asked if I wanted the specialist to call me when he returned. 

"Why, yes, I would."

I'm not holding my breath.  I didn't even have the heart to ask when I could expect the return call, although it crossed my mind.  I'll be shocked if I actually get that call.

While the phone call wasn't very helpful, at least I know my request has been received, and it's working its way through the bureaucracy that is our federal government.

More importantly though, I know that Almighty God is in control, not some bureaucrat.  It certainly helps me to have that perspective in this situation. 

And I can see that God is using this delay to do more of His work in me.  I happen to be reading in Job right now, and this quote from the Job chapter of 66 Love Letters really hit me this morning:

[God speaking] "To know Me well, you must first be confused by Me.  Only in the mystery of suffering will you stop trying to fit Me into your understanding of life.  Learn this as you read Job:  When you stand before Me in mystery, you will eventually rest within Me in trust.  When you can't figure Me out, you will give up the illusion of predictability and control and discover the joy and freedom of hope."

I'm definitely confused and can't figure God out.  But I'm choosing to trust that He knows what He's doing with this whole thing!  No doubt, a good place to be.

Oh, The Irony

The subject of surrender has been on my mind a lot over the past year.  I was talking with my friend, Staci, recently about it, and God brought to mind something from years ago.

As I turned 30, I was wrestling with the idea of surrendering my life to God, truly asking Him to be the Lord of my life.  I had come to Christ a few years earlier, but I still hadn't surrendered everything. 

I knew that me being in control of my life hadn't made things turn out the way I had hoped.  In my heart, I wanted to surrender control to God, but the thought scared me to death.  Give up control of the decisions that affect my life??  Yikes.

I was convinced that anyone who really surrendered to God got sent to Africa as a missionary.  And the LAST thing I ever wanted to be was a missionary - in Africa of all places.  It sounded awful to me!  (No doubt because of my complete self-centeredness, it didn't even occur to me that some people really want to be missionaries in Africa...) 

Thankfully, in spite of my fears, God gave me the courage to surrender my life to Him, knowing that He is completely trustworthy and His character never changes.  In the end, I realized that I could trust Him with my future more than I could trust me with it.

Little did I know that God would soon lead me in a new career direction.  At 32, I joined the staff of Priority Associates, a ministry of Campus Crusade for Christ, so I did become a missionary.  Willingly!  And as it turned out, my personality and experience were perfectly suited to this calling.  It was a great fit and the meaningful career for which I'd been searching.

And eight years later, as God would have it, here we are pursuing an adoption - in Africa of all places!  We long to meet the daughter that He has placed on our hearts.

At 30, I guess I wasn't so off-base in what I was thinking about missionaries and Africa...I just didn't have the details worked out correctly. 

"Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the LORD's purpose that prevails."  Proverbs 19:21

Isn't our God amazing??!?

My Part, God's Part

Does adoption make an otherwise sane woman lose her mind???  I'm beginning to wonder.

Already I can tell that this is going to be a very refining process for me.  Intellectually, I knew walking into the adoption that I needed to trust God with the process and the timing, realizing that most of it is out of my control. 

I thought I was okay with that.  And I am on most days.  But this whole birth certificate thing is really bugging me.  (Yes, a snag in step one is bugging me.  Not a great sign, huh?)

I was thinking about the missing birth certificate again as I was showering yesterday morning.  And then a thought popped in my head that tempted me to go down a wrong path. 

I thought, "Have I done something, God, that's made you mad at me?  Is that why You're punishing me by withholding my birth certificate?  Don't you know that we can't move ahead with the adoption without it?"

My next thought was, "UH OH.  What's going on here?"

I know better than that.  What bothers me, I guess, is that blaming God is not my normal reaction to things not going my way.

I KNOW that the One True Living God isn't a vindictive, mean-spirited, punishing God.  He is my loving Father who cares for me and delights in me.  He's proven that over and over and over again to me.  He loves me with an everlasting love.  He knows ALL things.  He also knows what's best for me, what's around the corner, and the exact child He has planned for our family.  And He knows what He's doing in me through this adoption.

I think it's interesting that in a weak moment, I was tempted to blame God and demand that things happen my way, on my timetable.  That's not the woman He wants me to be, yet He saw that tendency in my heart.  All He did was show it to me yesterday.  Not a pretty sight.

Do I want my birth certificate to get here?  Absolutely.  But more than that, I truly want to do this God's way, not mine.

I can do my part.  God gets to do His part in His way.

Not coincidentally, after praying about all of this, I realized that I could call the State Department to see if I could get someone on the phone to find out the status of my request.  That's not being demanding or trying to do God's part.

Long story short - it took me awhile, but I finally got a direct phone number for the Vital Records section.  So I called them yesterday afternoon. 

At first, it seemed like I was really going to get some answers.  Yea!!  But in reality, I just got funneled into their automated phone system from hell.   The option to "check the status of a pending request" kept saying "Line busy" and putting me back into the very long main menu.  I resorted to trying every option on the menu (repeatedly), but after every three options selected, I was told, "Goodbye" and hung up on.  Really.

I kept calling back - for two whole hours - but I never could reach a live person. I tried every combination I could think of to reach an operator, but nothing worked.  It was so ridiculous that, by the end of the two hours, I was laughing out loud.  It was a total waste of my children's naptime.  That's the worst part of it for me.  Precious, alone time WASTED!!!

Last night, I sent an email to my Congressman, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he can get some answers for me.  We'll see.  I've done my part.  Now I just wait and trust that God is doing His part.  And I know He will.

It's funny.  I seem to be writing about this a lot, but I rarely talk about it.  My days are full, and life goes on.  But it's good to be able to get it off my chest.  :-)

Now it's time to pack for a fun weekend trip with my honey!  No kids!!  Spa appointments!  Woo hoo!  Thanks, Mom and Dad!!