Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Going running, or not

Just looking back, realizing how sporadic my posts have become. Pretty much dwindled to every month on our DTE-varsarry. Which I'm sure is just highly entertaining and a sure way to keep others reading. (Go ahead, admit it, you're waiting each month with baited breath just to see what brand of ice cream we choose.)

Truth is - when we signed on for adoption. And said "yes Lord, we will go" - we kind of were expecting an 18 month commitment followed by an 18 year bigger commitment.

And now we are at TWENTY months, and still are only rounding the corner with a faaaaaaaar, far away view of the finish line. And let me tell ya, I am not one for distance running. Give me a sprint any day and I'll push through. But running?? I walked my way through cross country season in high school. Seriously. Embarrassing I know.

So instead of rejoicing at our #4 status, or smiling as I view her changing table, which has set waiting for her in my room for 6 months now. Or the crib which is still up in Addi's room --- I have been falling on my face and crying in my own little pity party. Again, embarrassing I know.

I want to be ecstatic when others are going on court trips to see their babies for the first time, I want to be jumping up and down when they go for embassy to pick up their children. But my sinful self is sitting in a corner pouting - saying "it's not fair." (Honestly --- I scroll over their blogs to see the date they signed their application letter to start their adoption, and pout even more when their dates are much later than mine.) I want to grieve with them when they are missing their children so badly - a hurt that I can not even image - having to leave your little, fragile new baby for months on end and not knowing when you can return, all at the mercy of a foreign court system. But I also want to yell and scream that I haven't even SEEN my baby yet. And she is no less mine and I am no less in pain of knowing we are still separated. 24 months after I became her mother in heart.

Embarrassing, I know. What a strong, stable Christian I am? I despise myself sometimes.

But ya know, I still know that none of this surprised God at all. None of this was not His plan. And for us to be still, wandering around in the Israelite desert, it must be because I still need to be taught something. Something like patience maybe?? Something which obviously I have yet to learn?? So I wander still.

God chooses the weakest to display his glory. That theme is all through the scriptures. And oh boy, can I be weak.

Am I posting this to make you feel sorry for me? NO.

I am posting it to let you see that I/we are not super Christians. We are not rocks of faith or of strength. But HE is. And every week, I have seen orphans placed in families. And that is nothing short of miraculous. And beautiful.

It doesn't take a super Christian to join the race. Or even a strong Christian. It doesn't take a wise and seasoned parent to mother a child who needs you. It just takes you. And even though the race is hard. And long. And tiring. And draining. Somehow, we haven't collapsed yet. And even though that finish line is waaaaaaay out there and I may want to stop and just run for a cheeseburger instead - my heavenly Daddy is running beside me, edging me on, letting me know that HE believes in me and knows I can do it. And we will..... and the reward will be so much more than we can imagine.

You too scared of running?

1 comment:

Angi: Tim Cooper said...

Great post Tracey! Running with you, Angi Cooper