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| Photo courtesy of Sunergos Coffee. |
Let's say you and I meet up for coffee. It's a rainy not-quite-spring day and we pull our chairs close so we can cozy up to our mugs. The steamy decaf latte aroma slithers right up to my nose.
We rushed to get here and sitting down into comfy chairs feels like sinking into a gentle wave. Ahhh.
Peace. And conversation.
You ask me how things are going. I nod as I take a sip and tell you things are good. We have had a few weeks of "normal" behavior and it is refreshing. It's funny, how God works, I say. I started praying several weeks ago for MY attitude to change. For MY response to the behavior to change. I prayed for God to give me patience and compassion and He did. And then the behavior improved and I am SO grateful for His grace and answered prayer. I know we will ebb and flow, that boy and I, but God has been gracious to give me compassion for him.
God is teaching me so much about his unconditional love for me through this boy I tell you. I never imagined the lessons He had in store for us. It's almost been one year. Wow you say. It doesn't seem that long. I nod in agreement.
Then you ask me about Glory and my eyes glance away. It's easier to shift my focus than be in the moment where He has me. Then I tell you the facts - her birth certificate has been filed for, in a couple weeks we should have the judgement and then we will enter into the first 30 day waiting period.
You mention the pictures. Yes, I say, we received four photos of her last week. I pull out my phone and hand it to you. She is so adorable you say and I nod and take another sip. It's hard I tell you, because she is growing but getting thinner. Yeah, that must be hard you say. And it is, but I don't share anymore because I can't quite wrap my mind around my baby being half way around the world and not knowing what and how often she is getting nourishment for her little body. Then I blurt out it was different with the boys; they were older. They could tolerate hunger. A 10 month old? I worry about her I tell you.
And then I shift a little in my chair, take a sip of my latte and meet my eyes with yours. What about you I ask. How are you doing?
/////This is the interactive portion of our program. I'd love to get to know some of YOU better. Please feel freedom to play along./////
I messily pour yet ANOTHER packet of Splenda (you're more than a little agape at the amount of sweetener I'm ingesting) into my house coffee, and try to buy myself time to offer something that doesn't pale in comparison to such a weighty, worthy subject.
ReplyDeleteFinally, with the last of the stray granules swept off the table, I say:
I can relate to asking about asking God to change ME. I am now a couple weeks out from marrying the most remarkable woman I've known, and it's amazing how much two people who really love Him, really care each about each other, and are in pursuit of something noble and good can run into so much HARD. Because it's been hard. But the prayers He's most clearly answered are ones in which He gives me a greater ability to step outside myself and see the world from her point of view and thus have a chance to love her better. Prayers to change ME. I never would have believed that my own ability to love someone else was so poor or so capable of being clueless and hapless. And yet He keeps showing up and helping me.
And then I say, wryly, that you and your people haven't helped any. I smile at the quizzical expression that crosses your face.
One of our big stressors has been figuring out where exactly we're going to live. The experience of visiting Ant*och and breathing the same air as people that we love and share common passions with put the Southside smack in the middle of our radar again, causing some of the kind of delightful confusion that ensues when you have more than one GREAT choice. I'm speaking of geography and being among the international community, not necessarily switching churches, per se...though we love our Ant*och people, individually and collectively.
Those two Sundays were so timely and so encouraging for both of us.
And yesterday, as we looked through a house in a different neighborhood, one that we really like, one of the things she observed liking about it was, "we could have a foster child in this house."
So we have you to blame for that as well (another wry smile).
I LOVE that you took time out of your busy day to write this Mr. Unknown! :-)
ReplyDeleteHa! Didn't realize I was posting anonymously...it was unintentional subterfuge. I'm sure you probably figured it out, though. And all this geography shifting and moving might mean we have some stuff for the yard sale.
ReplyDeleteYours truly - old CG friend.
I would dearly love to meet up for coffee (which I don't drink) with you! We are knee deep into our 3rd hosting for Safe Families, and yours is still the only blog I've found that mentions it.
ReplyDeleteI'd love to be able to pour out where we're at, and ask what you think, because you've walked this road.
And then I'd pull out MY phone and show you pictures of my cuties in China, and we'd sigh wistfully and acknowledge that waiting just plain sucks some days.
Amen to that! :-)
DeleteSeveral friends at church asked yesterday, "So are you just waiting for a call now?" I'll pretend you asked that.
ReplyDeleteI believe our home study is all wrapped up for chapter 2 of foster parenting. I talked to our case worker 6 times on the phone after our grueling home inspection a week and a half ago, to answer questions or send more documents. Yes, our home study was ridiculously meticulous and apparently we've been warned about not stirring up drama with the department because of how things happened over a year ago with our daughter. We chuckle because it was God who "went above their heads," not us…but we're flattered that we still have a reputation after taking a year break.
I feel like God is speaking so much to me lately, or maybe it's just that I'm really listening now because I'm desperate. I know we can't do this again without Him. We don't even really want to do this (foster care) if I could be quite honest but He asked us to, so we surrender our comfortable lives and agree to die for His plan, for His mission, for the sake of His babies. I'm scared because I know how much it's going to hurt. I'm also excited because we've spent a lot of time and energy preparing for this journey and I'm ready. I think.
We haven't gotten an official approval letter in the mail yet but the phone call panic has started. It's been 5 days since our case worker last called so I'm pretty sure she got all the info she needed from us to reopen our home. I had a missed call and a voicemail from an unknown number yesterday afternoon. I thought my heart was going to explode through my chest when I listened to the voicemail…thinking for sure it was a placement worker. Was this a phone call that would change our lives forever? I remember the two previous calls like that so well. But instead the voicemail was just the sound of someone hanging up and I went about the rest of my day as usual. Relieved.
My days are easy, busy but comfortable and pretty predictable. Until the phone rings and my surge of adrenaline sends me into panic mode…I should probably stick to decaf in the afternoons.
Yes! The anxious phone call feeling. I know that one well!
DeleteBeautifully scripted my friend, I could almost walk right into being there with you....
ReplyDelete"And I sip my Vanilla Spice Latte, (we are at Starbucks right?) and sigh because it is so hard to put into words the heart. As I listened to your updates, the anxious waiting, the concern, the letting go, the trusting... I tell you I miss that deep dependence on God. I explain how being home now a little over a year the ups and downs have evened out, though uncharted territory is always looming. I share that I am thankful to have some what of a new normal going on.
I tell you, that I am trying to find my place after the airport. I share how I studied and prepared for this child to enter my life... but I wasn't prepared for my heart being wrecked completely. I had no idea that I would be grieving and that finding my place after the airport was just as much a process as the bonding and cocooning my child was going through. That Congo is now a forever part of me, and those that I left behind still haunt my dreams. Bringing Z. home, I say, was not an ending.. it was only a life changing beginning. You think differently, you live differently, and sometimes it can be lonely.
So I thank you for the coffee and this time.. because today you made the journey a bit less lonely. Because you and I could talk adoption till they close the place up. You get me and the heart beat that seems foreign to so many of those around me. It is so nice to be understood.
Tessy at Divine Moments
http://divinemomentstlf.blogspot.com/