A baby in a crib. Still.
A girl in an institution. Still.
It’s not easy. It’s hard.
“Why God, why? Why is this wait so long. This is not ok,” I cried out at 3am, awoken in anxiety.
“I am mad at you! Make this faster,” I said, angry. “I just don’t understand.”
“Well why, then?” I demanded.
“Do you remember that prayer? Do you remember what you asked me?”
“Amy, when you prayed for me to break your heart for what broke mine, I gave you a glimpse. I gave you a tiny portion that you could handle. I allowed you into a part of my heart. And I will make good, and those two children will come home, and your heart will be full. Your wait will be over, and your joy will be complete.
But my children will still wait. Long after you leave.”
And I allowed God to let me remembered all the rest. In those two orphanages alone. All the rest. My trial will soon be over, my wait will come to fruition, but the others.
And I realized, my sadness and longing, it’s not what God is doing to me, it’s Him allowing me into his heart for a brief moment to see his. Those are all his children. He didn’t design them for that life, but for families. And once we are home, we have the joy of watching our children he gave us blossom and grow.
But, while gone, our son’s old crib will be filled with yet one more unwanted baby.
Our daughter’s bed will be taken by one more child, who, overlooked their whole life, will move from all they know in their children’s orphanage to that older child’s orphanage, the last stop before being turned out, completely alone. Their lack of love and desirability by parents tangible to them.
My temper tantrum was over.
“I’m sorry, I am just not used to this, I just don’t always know how to feel.”
“You can always come to me with how you feel.”
“Ok, well,” my heart was changed a bit, when I wasn’t looking for it to change. I was looking for God to hear out my anger, “Well, thank you for this journey God, thank you. Even for the sad parts. I am glad I prayed that prayer. I wouldn’t trade any of it for the world. I feel you teaching me how to be strong, and about who you are. And the sadness isn’t the worst thing.
There are worse things. I know, you showed me.”
And I fell asleep.
I love your heart, Amy Brockhaus!
Praying for all of you Amy. The waiting is the hardest but God is continuing to grow your already very open and compassionate heart. You and A have done so much to advocate for orphans prior to this journey – no doubt you will advocate for many more and encourage others to open their hearts & homes & family to adoption. But I feel you – waiting hurts so much. =-(
Beautiful Amy. Just last night I was stomping my feet and screaming in the garden again that I wanted this done and things to go my way. But you are so right. After my daughter is home someone else will come and take her place. They will go to her “good” institution most likely for life and no one will come and tell them they love them or tell them they are taking them home. Oh how that thought breaks my heart. That our daughter will be child number 2 in over 25 years to every leave that place because they are going home to a family.
Ohh your heart. My heart hears it! This is a variety of conversation I know too well; waiting wearies us. I send virtual hugs to you.
Take whatever comfort you can in knowing that these days will pass, and your wee ones will come home. Their new normal will begin. Their hands will fit safe in yours, their heads will rest on your chest, and as they listen to that perfect beat of your mama-heart, you will have been blessed by this reminder that little hearts across the water need your prayers still.
Not much longer now . . .
I’m Jen- emailed you yesterday… you are up to WAAAY more important stuff than checking emails!!! But, I’ve gotta say reading that link on my fb from RR (your post about gotcha day) has changed me forever. I’ve had a heart to adopt my whole life….been a fan of RR for a year or so. But, yesterday after I read that post I had to keep reading- catching up on your journey. Read it while little Ellie was taking a nap, back on after picking up the two big girls from school– read a portion of one of your posts about trusting God and laying down societal pressures of consumerism to my hubby. We have talked about adoption before… and in the past few months the Lord has been working on our hearts- giving both of us an urgency that there is a big change in our future. Specifically speaking to me about taking my eyes of myself and my quest for the perfect life with all the gagets. Speaking to hubby about paying down debt so we can be free for something greater…. So many dreams, tavel, playing music (hub) but this adoption thing has taken a hold of my heart and has squeezed it into a million pieces. I was suppose to do my gorcery shopping today- but all I’ve done all morning is look at the waiting kids in the RR website, and read your adoption story- and CRYing MY EYES OUT. The thing is, I’m not a crier. Through your story, the Lord is birthing something in me. Last Dec I delievered our 3rd baby girl, Ellianah, and something odd happened right after she was born. As I held her close, I knew I wanted another one. It was so odd, bc I never felt like that with any of my other births- it was so immediate, so God. But, I’ve had difficult pregnancies, and two of the three births held life threatening complications. I’ll be 37 in May, and I’d carry another baby if the Lord asked me to– but I never felt like he was…. but did feel that we were suppose to have a son. So- here I am, a wreck. When you wrote about your son being so small, and thirsty– the diaper rash, yes it is to much. To much for any of us to do nothing about it. Anyways- I’m going on and on…. but if you would email me and let me know anything you can about the adoption process. I scoured the RR site looking for that little boy you took photos of in the crib. I didn’t see any that looked just like him- but a cpl maybe older photos of a different angle may be him. I emailed them as well. Now, Im just waiting for the Lord to move on my husbands heart–