Confessions of a Planaholic

I really wanted my next blog update to be the one where we get to announce our travel plans to bring Evelyn home. But, clearly that is not going to happen in the timing we had hoped for. It absolutely hurts, physically hurts, to have to bury the plans I have been forming.

I remember so well the first time I had to bury plans I had been making on this journey to adopt our daughter. I'm not just writing some cliche phrase there. I actually had to grieve a loss, mentally bury my dreams. I was sitting in the office when I received the email that it was going to be a longer process before our daughter's paperwork was ready for the new and ever changing demands of our US Embassy in Ethiopia. She was closing in on 4 months old and I could tell that bringing her home at 6 months was not going to happen. I felt like I was at a funeral for the plans I had made of bringing our infant daughter home, grieving over the trauma she would so much more have to bear as she would be older, making these big transitions. I realize that no matter what the child's age there is loss and transition. I grieved over how many firsts we would not get to be a part of. That was an ugly night. God saw me through it and then there was hope in the morning. And the next day, I realized when I was looking at a picture of Owen at age 10 months, that he was still a baby in that picture. Ok, she will still be under the age of one! We can do this!

I remember realizing another funeral was about to happen when we were on the drive back from the Indianapolis airport, coming from the trip where we just officially fell head over heels for this girl. Getting the email stating things were not looking so good for a speedy second trip to bring her home was... not good. That hurt too, but so many people rallied. Our pastor asked our church to pray for a miracle and it happened! That funeral didn't last long. But, the next one was on it's way.

A first birthday. Another plan buried. Small sized baby clothes taken down from her closet and given away. I was reminded that these were all my plans; apparently they were not God's. Why was I continuing to make this plan-making mistake? Well... it's me, for crying out loud! This is what I do. I make plans. I am a plan maker. But, I guess it's time to re-label myself. I am a plan griever these days.

My next plans were to have her home by Thanksgiving. The day we received the news that we were not officially cleared and got the big RFE notice (November 14th) put me back into the same state of darkness that I felt after Will was born and I experienced a very short lived postpardem depression. This was very similar, but also different. The best way to describe it is like a heaviness, that if it is not on me, it is just above me. I am afraid of it because it immobilizes me. To take two steps in front of me, let alone do the laundry, go into my hospital job, or even just take a shower, feels like an enormous, impossible task. Depression can be clinical, but it can also be an outcome of spiritual matters. I just couldn't shake that maybe it was something I was responsible for. Was I sinning? Was this a spirit of some kind? I have been known to be kind of hard on myself, but I just want to be in God's will and it was important for me to ask these questions.

I struggled with this awful darkness for a week and a half. Truthfully I just had to look at the calendar and called for Todd to help me because I couldn't believe that it only lasted this long. It felt like months!  Since the worst part of it was over I have felt moments of sadness, but I feel delivered from the darkness at this point and I think I know why.

A friend, that I do not know, but she is still very special to me (Kameron!), sent me and Stacy King a message of hope. She encouraged us to believe in the God who does miracles.

She wrote, " BUT, God reminded me of a very important truth about HIM and His power and ability. In the Bible it is written that He did many, many, many IMPOSSIBLE (0% chance of it happening) things, like: feeding 5,000 people from 1 boys lunch (and i have heard of modern day miracles like this too with missionaries and such), turning water into wine, raising the dead, giving sight to the blind, healing the leper, PARTING the Red Sea, RAISING from the dead, CREATING the world and everything in it from nothing, to name a few. Do we really, really believe He did those things? YES.  We do. And those things were/are 100% IMPOSSIBLE."

That was it! She asked, "Do we really, really believe He did those things?" And I swallowed hard and hung my head. I could not answer this. God, have I been doubting You? I wrestled with this and cried to God about it for the next two days, and in particular one entire night.

I think there is a difference between believing what God CAN do and TRUSTING that He will do it. I think I was doubting a little bit of both. I believe in God. I know He is good. I know He loves us. But, I was doubting that He still works miracles. I was not really trusting in Him. I asked Him to forgive me. Just like the parent in Mark chapter 9 I confessed, "I do believe; help me with my unbelief!" I am a work in progress right now. Opening God's Word and spending time with Him is helping as it usually does.

I bet you want to know if I have plans for her to be home by Christmas. I'm making progress, but I will probably always be a planaholic and knowing this is my first step.

There are really nice people who have been to Ethiopia and back, bringing their little one's home and blowing kisses to my sweat Evelyn as they leave. Some have tried to love on her, but she hasn't really wanted any of that. Some have snuck pictures of her for us. Here are a couple of those.

Thank you for your prayers. Please keep them coming!