Friday, February 3, 2017


But they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength;
they shall mount up with wings like eagles; 
they shall run and not be weary;
they shall walk and not faint.

Isaiah 40:31 (ESV)

I'm trying to walk these days, but mostly I want to sit in front of a computer screen and search waiting Child lists for my daughter. I want to call the adoption agency yet again and see if there is anything they need from us. Just checking. Again. And, if I'm completely honest, what I really want to do is get on a plane to China and just bring home a little girl. Our daughter. My children's sister. Because I don't want her waiting any longer. 

That is what is at the crux of the matter. I knew adoption was a marathon, not a sprint. I knew after the flurry of paperwork and home visits that we would wait. I am mildly prepared for that. But, I was not prepared to think that we have a child out there somewhere who is waiting for us. This thought had never occurred to me in such a tangible way before. If she is born yet, she is likely in an orphanage. This means her crib is likely pushed up agains other cribs. She likely spend a lot of time every day in that crib. By herself. When she cries, there is not someone who rushes over to see what she needs. There is not a person who is trying to figure out what her favorite things are, how to comfort her, what kind of person she is growing into. There is not someone taking pictures of her to paste in a baby book and looking forward to looking at it with her to tell her, "This is you on the day you took your first step." There is not someone reading her stories at night or praying over her as she falls asleep. 

There are nannies who feed her, change her, play with her when they can. There may be nannies who love her, favor her over others, read to her, and maybe even someone that prays over her. But, they know they will not be there to see her grow up. They know she is not theirs. So their relationship is different by necessity. 

This is heartbreaking. And when my heart feels like it cannot take it anymore, I try to remind myself the God I serve is "Father of the fatherless" and He is with her even though I cannot be. (Psalm 68) He knows her. He sees her. And He has called us to her, because He loves her. 

And so our family waits. 

We pray for our sister as a family and individually. We pray because that is all we can do right now. 

We jump a little every time our phone rings, hoping it is the call from CCAI. And, we wait some more. 

And, we pray some more. We pray that God would comfort her when we cannot. We pray that He would give us patience and strength to endure the waiting. We pray that we can continue to walk this path and not grow weary in the waiting. We wait and we pray.