So there's not a lot to update on the adoption front. Still waiting. Still hoping. Still frustrated by systems that seem to fail those they seek to serve. You'd think that after more than 23 "list nights" where we wait...refreshing the email button...hoping for good news and a file attached--HER file--only to be disappointed month after month, list after list...that we'd be used to it by now. In some ways, yes, we are. Most days I find myself fairly numb...almost as if I'm in a dream world where I THOUGHT we were going to adopt, but in reality it's just never going to happen. That's most days. Then there are days when I can hardly drag myself out of bed. I put a smile on, keep the peace, shove it deeper inside...because I know that if I allow myself to feel all of the anger and frustration that lies beneath the surface, I may never come up for air. I may be swallowed up whole...some days. I can tell my head a hundred different ways that "His timing is not MY timing" and "God's still in control". And I know that I know that I KNOW that is the truth. But some days, convincing my heart of that is another story altogether. So when people ask how it's going, where are we at in the process, I don't say "It totally sucks. I just wanna fly over and get my daughter already. I'm over the wait and anxiety and the sleepless nights. I'm just done. I plan to leave tomorrow." Instead, I simply say, "Oh, it's coming along. Still waiting and hoping it works out the way we'd like. But we're good." Because that's the easier thing to say. And that's the easier thing to hear. And frankly, maybe if I say it enough, I'll start to believe it too. Some days...
But there are other days...when I have a glimmer of hope, when I see just a glimpse of the bigger picture, and by His grace alone, I'm able to keep going. Because I'm her mom. And I will wait til the day I die if I have to. I will continue to fight for her no matter how long, no matter the road, because that's what moms do. And I'm her mom.
I'm also his mom. My teenager who is struggling to figure out his identity...who is questioning everything he believes...what is right and wrong. My son who is trying to determine his place in this world, and who does so facing pressures and obstacles...even some I've never faced myself. So I need to be HERE--fully present. He needs me to be HIS mom, in this moment, in his time of (so far) his greatest need. I need to walk this road with my son, completely engaged in his trials and triumphs, guiding him where I can, and praying he trusts God to lead him where I can't. Some days that road with him really sucks...I mean REALLY sucks. It's hard and it's painful and it's ugly and it's sooooo not my son...not the young man I know...not the man God created him to be. Other days that road is so incredible I can't begin to describe it. The amount of love and pride I have in being his mom goes beyond words. He is talented, he is dedicated, he is amazing and kind and thoughtful and he has a heart the size of Texas (which I've come to learn is very VERY large!). And I get front row seats to watch him grow--both in the good times and the bad--and I wouldn't trade it for anything. Not one single thing.
And somewhere deep inside, I'm realizing I'm also a very lost little girl who misses her daddy in ways no words can express. In fact, I was holding it together until that very sentence. Because that's what I do. I have to keep going. I have responsibilities. I have people who depend on me. And until recently, going with the flow was easy. We've had a whole lotta crazy up in here for the last 14 1/2 months since my daddy died. I've literally been going from one thing to the next, funeral then his belongings then his estate then starting to homeschool then selling a house then moving then moving again then getting settled in a new state surrounded by new people. So I didn't have to think, or feel. I could just shove it all deep inside to be dealt with another day. But that day has come and I'm finding I'm completely unprepared for the waves of emotion that are fighting to take over within me. I fight on a near daily basis, just to keep my head above water. And sleep, which was once my safe haven, my refuge from the day, has eluded me in these months since daddy has been gone. I'm beginning to realize I need time to heal. I need time to let myself feel all of these things I've trapped inside. I just need more time.
And God, in His infinite wisdom, is giving me just that. Time to heal, time to find my new normal, time to get settled in our new surroundings, time to be his mom, the way he needs me--completely focused on his needs...and I need to deal with all of this, to be fully HERE, before I can be fully THERE with her, getting to know her, letting her get to know me, being HER mom the way she needs me--completely focused on her needs.
So I try to find joy in this journey, in this uphill-downhill-good day-bad day-journey. I'm learning what it is to grieve, to raise a teenager with all of his successes and failures, to make new friends all over again, to become accustomed to new places and things, and to help my family settle into this new phase of life. Little by little I'm surviving, and some days I see the light at the end of the very long tunnel. Just when I need it most, God gives me the clarity I need to see just far enough into that light to keep going, to know without a doubt He is VERY much in control. And He has my best interests at heart...even when I can't see the big picture from here.
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