Living in the Fourth Day

At dinner on Memorial Day,
living in the Fourth Day together.

When you start the adoption process, people give you lots of advice.   Whether it’s your agency or a friend who has been through the process, you get lots of information on what to expect.  This has been helpful and Austin and I have used a lot of the advice to help normalize the stages we’ve been moving through. Let me highlight a few of the phases we’ve already been through:  

The “Accidentally-Rude-Comments” Phase

“Oh you’re adopting?  You’ll probably get pregnant now that you aren’t thinking about it so much.”  (Note:  Please do not ever ever ever say this to a couple.  Seriously.  Don’t do it.)

The “I-Might-Die-From-All-This-Paperwork” Phase:

“If I have to write one more essay, I seriously think my hand my fall off.”  

The “Non-Stop-Appointments” Phase”

“Our parenting classes are the next three Tuesdays at 3:00pm and then the week after that we have our doctor’s appointments on Thursday and then then following Wednesday we get fingerprinted.  Yes, I know we’ve been fingerprinted once already but this is fingerprinting at the federal level.”  (P.S.—Did you know you have to get tested for syphilis when you are adopting?!  No, I’m not making that up.) 

The “Stare-Incessantly-At-Your-Referral-Photos” Phase

“Did you notice on the third photo that if you look closely in the background you will see a box of formula on the counter?  I’m pretty sure it has a picture of the Quaker Man on it.  No, look closer, you’ll see it.” 

Now let me introduce you to the phase we are currently living in:

The “Managing-Other-People’s-Expectations” Phase

“I thought he was supposed to be home by now.  Why don’t you have any new information?  Why isn’t your agency helping more?  Well what do you mean you don’t know any updates?  Why can’t they just give you an estimate of when you will travel?  I just don’t get why this is taking so long, why can’t you just fly over there and pick him up already?!”

Each stage has brought about its own challenges, and yet we felt prepared for most.  This current phase is one that no one warned us about and as a result, it’s taken us both by surprise.  It’s a really strange place to be as you try to manage your own expectations while simultaneously defending the process to other people.  Please don’t misunderstand, we feel loved and supported when people ask about Shay and want to know an update, however, it’s the questions that come with an almost accusatory tone that makes it difficult to manage.   Over the past few weeks, I’ve watched my emotions range from denial to bitterness to extreme sadness to intense anger.   Then I realized what was happening…..it's grief.  I’m literally grieving the “death” of the original time frame we were given.  We were told June was our “worst case scenario” and now here we are, tomorrow is June 1^st and we’ve not even received our initial court date.   We don’t have any updates, we aren’t sure where we are in the court system and there is no new estimated time frame.    

This.is.hard.  

Yet, something wonderful happened this week.  I watched an online message from Elevation Church in North Carolina.  It’s part of a series entitled “The Expectation Gap.”  In the message, the pastor used John 11 to illustrate how sometimes we have expectations that aren’t met by Jesus (or at least not in the way we expected them to be).  You may be familiar with the story of Mary, Martha and Lazarus.  In this passage, the sisters send word to Jesus that their brother is sick.  The scripture is clear that these individuals have a relationship with Jesus, there is real closeness that exits (they even refer to Lazarus as “the one you love").  So what is Jesus’ response to the news of Lazarus being sick and near death?

He hears the news......and then stays put for two days.  

What?!?!  The “one you love” is sick and yet you intentionally stay where you are for two extra days?  You don’t rush to help?  You don’t care that his sisters are hurting and worried?  You do nothing but wait for two days??

When Jesus does show up in Judea, Lazarus has been in the tomb for four days.  Why is four days relevant?  I learned from the sermon that in Jewish tradition, when someone died the belief was the spirit didn’t actually leave the body until the third day.  Therefore, up until the third day, there was still hope that the person could come back.   When Martha meets Jesus at the gate, she is without hope—it’s day four.  She immediately tells him that if only he would have been there sooner, then her brother would be alive.  How does Jesus respond to her? 

²⁵ Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; ²⁶ and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?”  ²⁷ “Yes, Lord,” she replied, “I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, who is to come into the world.”

Martha didn’t know how her story was going to end.  At that moment, she was standing at the city gate, it was day four, her brother was dead and the hope of him living again was lost.  She only knew one thing for certain—she knew Jesus.   

Do I know how our journey will end?  

Do I know how long this is going to take?   

Do I think my heart will be able to withstand the constant breaking as days come and go without updates?  

Do I know how many more holidays will pass without Shay coming home?  

Do I know how will we ever get through this and keep our sanity?

No, I don’t the answers to any of this.  

But like Martha, I know Jesus.  

I know that if I keep my expectations focused on that alone, then I will never be disappointed.    I can have faith and know that even now, somehow, this is will all work out.   

The Weariness of Waiting

Austin and I just got home from a great little cabin retreat in the North Georgia Mountains.  We found a tiny cabin online and decided to take advantage of Austin’s (rare) extended time off.  While only gone for two nights, it was restful, relaxing and peaceful.  We love to be outdoors so despite the rain that stuck around all weekend, we braved the elements on Saturday and hiked at Amicocola Falls State Park (see picture).  It was hard not for our conversations to drift toward Shay, imagining what trips like this will be like once we are a family of three.  We envisioned how over-packed the car will be, how fun it will be to take him hiking with us, and how interesting road trips will be once our little man is along for the ride. 

But can I be brutally honest with you?   This month has been hard—maybe the hardest so far.  After losing Mema on April 1^st, the emotional heaviness just continued to grow.  We are nearing a point in our adoption journey where I am starting to feel really weary.   It’s the kind of weariness that never really subsides.  It’s a feeling that is always present, taking up space in the deepest part of my soul.  I don’t share this hoping you’ll feel sorry for me, I’m just explaining where my heart is at.  When you first begin this journey, people try to warn you of what to expect—how the highs and lows will ebb and flow as the months pass.  Just as I will never understand the physical changes that go along with a biological pregnancy, I don’t think anyone can really understand the emotional process of adoption unless you’ve lived it.  We are watching our baby grow up…….in pictures.  Just this past week, we received a video of him starting to crawl.  Yes, that’s right, our little man is almost mobile (note to self:  must warn cats of impending danger).   The pictures and video can best be described as painfully wonderful.  Each one is a gift, an absolute treasure that we love.  At the same time, it is painful to see him growing up, reaching milestones that we wanted to experience firsthand.   

Yet in the middle of my weariness, Jesus remains faithful.   The other constant that remains deep in my soul is the fact that I can depend on the Lord.   I can find joy and happiness if I only choose to recognize it.   While waiting on anything in life, we can let time begin to slowly rob us--the easy targets seem to be things like joy, happiness, even our faith.  While reflecting on that this weekend, I decided to make a list of the gifts that go along with the weariness of waiting.  Here are a few: 

• I can choose to be grateful that Shay is in a safe environment where he is deeply loved and cared for (by a nanny who can only be described as a blessing from God). 
• I can choose to be grateful that as each day that passes, it means we are one day closer to the day we can bring him home. 
• I can choose to be grateful that the longer we wait, the greater opportunity we have to save for our adoption fund. 
• I can choose to be grateful that I get to spend this time waiting with my mate of almost ten years, the absolute best friend I have on earth.

I keep reading Psalm 40:5:

“Many, LORD my God, are the wonders you have done, the things you planned for us. None can compare with you; were I to speak and tell of your deeds, they would be too many to declare.”

There truly are too many to declare.