Wednesday, November 14, 2012

A short update

I should probably put some kind of update here.
The thing is... I don't like blogging when I'm down and the last few weeks?
I've been feeling a little down.

The kidnapped Fundraiser went wonderfully! We were able to raise $217. It's so great that we have friends so willing to step out and ask on our behalf. That is $217 towards the home study payment.

And this new fundraiser through Celebrating Home is open until Nov 24th.  Every little bit helps towards that home study payment.

Whenever we finally get to the home study payment.

It is hard, this waiting.
We've been waiting on 4 state clearances and a divorce decree for nearly a month now.
It's hard not to feel dragged down.
It's hard not to feel angry and frustrated.

We have our "normal" life. We do our normal day to day things. But in the back of my mind is that angry little voice nagging: "Where are they?! What's taking so long!? Why is this process so difficult?! Why does it eat away so much time!? God, What are you doing here!?"

I've convinced myself that God is dragging this wait out to give us plenty of time to fund raise the home study payment. It doesn't make me feel any better. It makes me feel responsible for the length of the wait. If only we could fund raise quicker, God would let us move on. And that isn't fair. I don't have any control over or say in how God decides his timing...

Yesterday, I sat and watched the 45 seconds of video that we have of The Child.
Over and over and Over.
That's another thing. Forty Five Seconds. That's ALL the video that we have of him and it's likely all we will ever have until we meet him.
Forty Five Seconds.
I've completely memorized the entire clip.
I could give a play by play, down to reciting the gibberish lines that he tries to speak.
I could almost recite the "Eastern European" language the orphanage worker uses in the video.
And that worker.
I dream about her and The Child.
I haven't had a dream about him without Her right there beside him.
I dream of her holding The Child, rocking him to sleep.
I dream of her singing sweetly to him.
I dream of her calling his name, such a tender melody, as he runs into a hug.

I pray, so hard, that she does these things.
It hurts my heart to think that no one may be loving our son.
So I pray that she is.
Because I don't know how long this is all going to drag out.
And my tears are not a comfort to anyone.
So I pray that this orphanage worker is holding our son.
I pray she is singing to him.
I pray she is loving him.
Because He deserves love.