Yesterday, for the first time in recent memory, I didn’t have words. I always have words, and zipping thoughts, on most days too many probably. But yesterday they failed me. We received word from our adoption attorney that the government said No. Hard stop. Just. No. We can’t do anything more. They hold the power, maybe when he’s 18 we can do something, but that is a long way off and presents a whole other set of hurdles.  The attorney that I had prayed would be the answer bowed out. And I was left holding this hurt with no plan, no idea what to do next, nothing. My brain shut down. And as the questions came in over the afternoon of “Any news?” I didn’t know what to say and I knew even less how to respond to your kind words of encouragement. I sat and stared for long periods of time at my blinking cursor, not wanting to appear short or unappreciative but just without the words to respond.

On the same day that we received our bank approval to add an addition with another bedroom and bathroom for our growing family, on the same day that a box of adoption books and materials arrived in the mail we were told “No.” Stop. Give up and leave us alone.  We are not doing this. We will not even look at this or consider approving this. And so a kid sits, alone, waiting and praying for a family who are waiting and praying for him. What is wrong with this system…

And my heart right now feels perilously close to the same way it did 17 years ago when my prayers for my son weren’t answered and the only thing we have of him are our dreams for what would have been, and a baby laid to rest next to his great-grandfather.

My prayers feel ineffectual. My heart is breaking. And, for what? A child who I can never tell how badly I want him. A child who I will never be able to mother the way my heart longs to. This was not my idea. I didn’t dream this up, I didn’t choose this.  But, there is no doubt that God placed this squarely in our path. It was a hard yes to say, it was scary, and while I didn’t expect it to be easy I am having a really hard time seeing where we go from here and understanding why? Why did God pull us into this? And I know the fight isn’t over. Somewhere in the recesses of my brain, I know this and I know that this isn’t over.  This can’t be over. I know that God can do the impossible. I know His promises, but today I am having a really hard time feeling them. Today, this feels so final and I feel so defeated.

Before I could even get this posted a shift began to happen. An “accidental” phone call from my sister early this morning that turned into words that I needed to hear. A reminder that my heart began to embrace. This is how God works and these are your prayers in real time .

Be Still. It’s something I should be intimately familiar with by now (Run and Be Still.) Dear wrestling and wiggling and fidgeting child, be still. Get out of the way, rest, and watch God work.  And I look to my past experiences as a reminder of what I know to be true of God today. And I throw myself at His feet, shedding my pity party.

So it is with every attempt to do something significant for God. It is never simple. Whenever God stirs us to establish His Kingdom in a new place, the enemy is sure to taunt us. The devil always tries to convince us that we’ve tackled too much this time and we’ll soon be humiliated. 

“The longer the blessing is in coming the richer it will be when it arrives. That which is gained speedily by a single prayer is sometimes only a second-rate blessing; but that which is gained after many a desperate tug and many an awful struggle, is a full-weighted and precious blessing. That which costs us the most prayer will be worth the most.” Charles Spurgeon

My eyes began to be opened to something that is so much bigger than one child.  What if the very words that have failed me are meant for bigger things? What if they are meant to advocate for an entire group of children waiting and praying? What if they are meant to bring God’s voice to a group of people frozen by 10 years of corruption and inaction?

What if this really isn’t about me (duh!) and instead about using my heartache, my passion for the kids sitting and waiting to age out of homes,  to bring about change. What if I refuse to sit down and be quiet, refuse their no for my child or any of the rest of them? What if…

For if you keep silent at this time, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another place, but you and your father’s house will perish. And who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?” Esther 4:14

And so it goes, as it always has, that an old song comes to mind, my prayer…