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.