a not quite full heart

Four boys woke early.  Christmas presents have been opened.  Breakfast has been consumed.  Wrapping paper cleaned up.  And in the quiet of boys napping or playing quietly, my heart is quiet.  And longing.  Longing for this sweet girl that we've been working and striving to bring home for the last 3 years.  There's room on the mantle for her stocking.  There's room on my lap for many snuggles.

The Israelites waited through 400 years of silence.  Longing for a Deliverer.  The Messiah.  And He came in the most unlikely of ways.  Humbly.  To a young couple far from home in less than ideal conditions.  No fanfare.  No cheers or congratulations.  In the still, quiet of night, the long-awaited (dare I say, forgotten) One became flesh.  And this Word became flesh and turned the world upside down.

New numbers have been issued and we will learn of them in January.  In the meantime, during this wait (which I am confident won't be 400 years) we pray that God will draw us to Him as we long for His second coming with the intensity in which we long for the coming of our baby girl.

My heart is swellon with love for these boys God has given me.  But it is not full.  Full will come when she is home.  Finally home.

Merry Christmas, boys of mine.  And Merry Christmas, sweet girl...one Christmas we will sit in the glow of the lights and I will hold you with tear filled eyes and a grateful, very full heart.

moving...slowly

It's been over 4 months since an adoption update.  Several reasons for that.  We've added a baby to our family.  Not through the miracle of adoption, but rather through the miracle of birth.  We are so blessed to have this little man join our crew of guys.  His brothers think he's the best baby ever.  I agree.

Another reason for the lack of update is the lack of movement.  Until we were in the hospital delivering this sweet boy.  My man was running around gathering photos because we got wind that our dossier was to be reviewed the next week.  When it rains, it pours.  We were grateful for the movement.  More confirmation that God is working to bring our Honduran daughter home.

Our dossier was approved, and we received a wait number in December.  We just finished updating our home study and immigration paperwork, getting it overnighted the day before it was to expire.  We like to keep things exciting around here. Praying that is the last time we see our social worker before our adoption is complete.

For a while, ashamedly, sweet baby girl was not at the center of my thoughts.  But now, even though we are experiencing the busyness of a new baby, she occupies my thoughts.  Each time I look into my baby boy's face, I see her.  I wonder, who's making her smile?  Who's rocking her?  Who's whispering "I love you"?  Who tenderly kisses her sweet face 746 times a day?  I want it to be me.  But it's not.  Not now.  And that makes my eyes fill with tears.

Have you seen the the trailer for the movie STUCK?  Tears flowing.  Heart-breaking.  Bring her home quickly, Jesus.  Bring all of these children to their forever families.

no news

That whole concept of "no news is good news"...yeah, that's a lie!  Our dossier has officially been in Honduras for over a year.  Two sets of updates that Honduras required have been sent.  The waiting list still does not have our name on it.  Next month marks two years since we began this 12-18 month process.  12-18 months has grown into a projected 4 years.  IHNFA is currently on strike.  We are hopeful that they will meet next week and issue some wait list numbers...one of them being ours. 

I would be lying if I told you that discouragement hasn't set in.  Times of questioning God have crept in.  I've just wrapped up a Beth Moore study {The Patriarchs}.  Abraham and Sarah waited 10 years for a partial fulfillment of their promise from God with the birth of their son, Isaac.  They did not see the complete fulfillment of their promise in their lifetime.  Hebrews 11:13 says, "All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance, admitting that they were foreigners and strangers on earth."  That is the kind of faith that I want...one that I am sure God is developing in me through this situation.

In the meantime, we are anxiously awaiting the blessing of baby boy #4 in just six weeks!

Silent

This blog has been silent for quite some time.  Partly because there is not much to tell.  Our dossier was reviewed by IHNFA in early March.  We were told that the boys needed complete lab work done.  You can imagine their excitement over this news.  They were champs!

We made another trip to Columbus to get the paperwork apostilled.  This time, Dan went with me.  This resulted in me getting dropped off in the middle of streets in downtown Columbus, dodging cars to get the paperwork where it needed to go.  (ok...it wasn't quite like that, but close.  Very close.)  This updated paperwork is now currently in Honduras being translated.  We are hopeful and confident that our dossier will be approved this time and we will be given a wait list number.

Then...we're looking at 12-18months before we receive a referral.  Not the greatest news I've ever received.  We certainly didn't expect this process to take 3 years from start to finish.  But we are trusting God and certainly seeing that He knows best.

A friend of ours shared this song with us.  Perfect.

We have friends who are currently in China bringing home their sweet girl...enjoying those first hours with her. How thrilling to see photos of them with their baby in their arms.  Process nearly complete.  Years of waiting and longing finally over.  I couldn't be happier for them.  But I can barely wait to be in that place.  Baby girl in arms.  End of the waiting.  Family complete.  But God still has us in the waiting room...preparing us for that day.  I choose to be content here.  My love for our sweet girl ever growing.  Trusting this ever-changing process to a never-changing God.

drive to Columbus + apostille + picnic

We managed to get a late start to Columbus. A certain someone locked his keys in the car, the DVD player wouldn't work, and 20 minutes into the trip I realized I forgot the papers that were the whole point of this trip. Thankfully, every time I looked into the rearview mirror there was a happy face starring back at me. And what tops a picnic lunch on a gorgeous day with this little heartbreaker?

Friday, the papers were overnighted to our agency.  I drove home from the post office to find an email with a few more things that IHNFA is requirring of us.  So today I made appointments for the boys for physicals, blood work, urine and sight tests.  Dan is working on getting a copy of the deed to our house.  And yep.  You guessed it.  These things need to be notarized, certified and apostilled.  So it looks like another drive to Columbus is in our near future.  Time is of the essence.  A baby girl awaits us. 

apostille, oh apostille

One of the things with adoption is to expect the unexpected.  We recently got word from Honduras that our character reference forms needed to be redone...new format.  And notarized.  And apostilled.  When we did our dossier, our agency took care of apostilling (not even sure that's a word, but then again I didn't know apostille was a word a year ago!) our documents.  Since then, things have changed.  Now we need to apostille our own documents.  Which sent me to my friend, google, for some assistance.  Looks like I'll be making a road trip this week...heading down to the Secretary of State office in Columbus to get these reference forms apostilled.  Not willing to waste any time on the USPS!!!  Baby girl is waiting!

waiting... (part 1)

The waiting is hard.  This is the month that we were originally expecting to be traveling to pick up our baby girl.  We're still sitting in chilly Cleveland this month, not knowing when we will find ourselves on a plane headed for warmer temperatures and a baby girl that we steal our hearts with a mere glance.  We've experienced some setbacks that have been outside of our control...setbacks caused by red tape and bureaucracy...setbacks caused by people who don't speak English...by people who seem to have lost sight of how critical it is to get these children to their loving families.  But how grateful I am that our faith doesn't rest in "the system".  Our faith is in One who has no language barrier. It's in the One who shuts the mouths of lions, makes raging furnace rescues, heals the sick, gives sight to the blind, and raises the dead...just to name a few.  God is, indeed, our Solid Rock.


The adoption process is not all roses.  Even adoptions that take place quickly pull on your heart strings, I would imagine.  You think of that child.  Alone.  Hungry.  Who's hugging her?  What are her living conditions?  Is she sick?  Is she going to sleep hungry?  Has she learned not to cry because no one comes?  Are the voices that speak to her gentle?  What about the hands that hold her or change her?  Are they too rough?  Too uncaring?  Can she hold out hope, waiting for her family to come for her? 


There are many nights that I go to bed with these questions running through my mind.  Here I lay...in my warm comfortable bed.  In the next room lies a bed.  An empty bed.  A bed who is waiting for a little girl to fill its covers.  The room is only half finished.  I can't bring myself to finish a room for a little girl who's homecoming has an indefinite time frame. I know its silly, but in my head it makes sense.  If the room is finished, than there should be no need to wait any longer.  Somehow, in my crazy head, the unfinished room means we're not quite ready for her.  Clearly, in our hearts, we are.  And really, all the room is missing is some moulding to be sanded and painted, board and baton installed, some burlap curtain panels, and one wall in need of some decorating.  I mean, come on...none of those things are deal breakers if we got the call today to go get her, right?  But somehow, this makes the waiting make sense.  Even though it doesn't.



Adoption is a risk.  It's a risk of having your heart broken with deflated expectations.  I know that at the end of however long this process takes, our hearts will be filled with joy and our arms will be filled with a baby girl.  A baby girl who will sleep in the room next to ours, like a peanut in a big bed.  She'll go to bed with a full tummy and more hugs and kisses than she can count.  She'll learn to cry when she's hurt...or sad...or mad, knowing that mom and dad will make her feel better.  She'll learn to trust.  She'll learn to love.  She'll learn to call him "daddy"...she'll learn to call me "mommy".  Today, I'm holding on to that.

more thoughts to come...another day