Adoption means: Wait. Watch. Wait.
That has been the cycle these past weeks.

Wait for word. Watch as other families bring their children home. Wait on God.

Just in this part of the process it’s been: Three months. Two more months. Six more weeks {and counting}.

The whole of the process has been a journey of 17 months thus far.

All this time we continue to wait between communication on our case. And this last part? This last part is when we are supposed to get that answer so we can move to the next step. But that answer just isn’t coming. And no updates on where we stand are offered.

So we wait. I cry. I hope. I trust. I cry some more. I feel deeply disappointed and at times, forgotten. I feel forgotten. Like our girls future was shelved and we are the laughing stock in the adoption world. As if we’re mocked and powerless to do a thing about it.

My husband and I feel strongly that God does not want to us to bring in outside help at this time. So, while we watch others call their government representatives to fight for them, God calls us to wait on Him. And I feel helpless, and honestly, somewhat of a bad mother.

And I’m not saying what other families are doing is wrong. I’m saying if we did that after God specifically called us to wait, it’d be wrong for us.

My heart aches and longs to fight on behalf of our girls, but instead God is calling us to be still, and wait on Him. He’s doing the fighting.

Instead, we’re fighting battles of discouragement, hopelessness, and impatience. And quite honestly, some depression.

Sometimes I feel like this whole thing is a bad dream. You know, when you’re standing there naked and everyone’s staring at you? Maybe laughing? I feel like my weak faith is exposed and as everyone brings their children home, the joke’s on me.

The voices haunt me,

“Maybe you should step out and do something more.”

“Maybe you should fight harder.”

“Maybe you should pray for a specific date.”

“That’s what everyone else is doing, and look, they’re getting results.”

It’s so hard not to think that we’re doing everything wrong because everyone else is getting results. But I also know that because the way God has called us to is so counter to what we want to do, it must be right. When thoughts of taking action flood my mind, I grow uneasy; uncomfortable. And God whispers, “Be still and know I’m here. I have not forgotten.” It’s subtle, though, and it could easily be missed if the louder voices were given permission to take over.

And if you’re getting tired of reading different renditions of the same topic, I understand. I’m writing for those who might be coming up behind me in their adoption and need to know they aren’t alone.

Another day has passed. Another week gone. Still we wait.

But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint. Isaiah 40:31