On Life Support

Most of the world has already gone to bed, but I wanted to share some good news (especially after throwing myself a full pity party on my last post). Brad called tonight and said, "Our adoption is on life support!"

I asked him what that meant and he told me that he and Daniel met our paralegal at the Central Renap this afternoon. Brad had a chance to plead our case and Renap graciously agreed to accept our file (even though their policy is to only take them on Tuesdays) AND would try to sign off on our case tomorrow. This is huge, wonderful, miraculous kind of news, yet I'm not doing my happy dance just yet. If they sign off on it tomorrow, it still has to go back to the Branch Renap to get the birth certificate, then we need to get the passport, then submit our final docs to the USE, then hope to get a Visa appointment in time. It will be uncomfortably close, but we still have a chance. And that small chance is enough to fall to my knees and cry out, "Thank you, God!"

Thanks to you all for your sweet comments and suggestions and encouragement. I love the part where I post early this morning about riding the seesaw with God, then a couple hours later advertise my full adult tantrum online. I'm like the children of Israel complaining about the conditions in the wilderness when I've still got manna stuck in my hair from the last time it rained from heaven.

Yes, as many suggested, we will wait and have Christmas when Daddy and Daniel finally do come home--even though December 25th will be hard. My three here already miss Brad so much that the phone calls end with tears. It will be hard to wake up on Christmas morning with a father and brother missing, watching the holiday come and go without seeing them.

My heart breaks the most for Daniel who has waited almost 10 years to have a family--a lifetime of waiting for happy only to have to wait some more. I don't want him to watch the world take down Christmas decorations, and stop playing holiday music, and move onto Valentine's Day, before he finally gets to have his Christmas with his family by a very crispy tree.

When we started our adoption, I explained to my girls what a hard life he has had. Ava responded with, "I want his life to be so full of happy here that he won't even be able to remember what it was like to be sad." Perhaps that's the thinking that has me aching to get him home in time. He's had a lifetime of leftovers--this time I want him to sit at the table when the feast is served.

But then a sweet friend reminded me of something tonight (thanks, Heidi). Even Mary and Joseph were away from home for the real birth of Christ. Our pastor had a great sermon last year about how terribly imperfect the circumstances were for our perfect Savior. Oh, I'm so glad that God didn't choose me to be the mother of the Messiah, for I would have certainly voiced my complaints about riding a donkey nine months pregnant, not having my trusted doctor for the delivery, my safety concerns about the feeding trough/bassinet, and Joseph would have gotten an earful about not calling ahead to make a hotel reservation.

But if this was God's plan for His only Son, then who am I to question His plan for my adopted son? As much as I wish I could script out my life, God's way is always so much better than anything I could have come up with.

My eyes are heavy so I'm going to call it a night, but will try to post any news tomorrow. As always, thanks for your love and prayers.

Resting in Him,
Kathie