We've definitely hit the doldrums - no, not a place of depression, as the expression has come to mean in our modern-day language, but rather something like that stagnant place near the equator that was dreaded by sailors on the ships of a few centuries ago. The place that was known for no winds, no movement, and the occasional sudden squalls. The place where you could be stuck for days or weeks, with no real way to leave. The place where you could go crazy with boredom or illusion or where you could be sucked into crippling laziness. That's a bit how this adoption feels at this point. Our numbers for the month of October were #34 for a girl and #24 for a boy...not a whole lot of movement to the waitlists lately. It doesn't seem real to me any longer. I'm perfectly happy with my little family of three, we're in this quiet place with no winds, and the smallest things are starting to make me question my readiness for parenting another child. We've lost the momentum of the paper-pushing days of the homestudy and the dossier, and we're almost up to one year on the waitlist. This isn't ever really going to happen, right?
Yikealo is still actively praying for and asking about his "new little boy or girl." The other day in Social Studies we were discussing the difference between needs and wants. He was supposed to draw a picture of something that was a need and somethings that was a want. Under "Need" he drew a glass of water. Under "Want" he drew a smiling stick figure. I asked him if it was supposed to be a Lego guy. (He's recently discovered Legos and had just informed me that morning that he wanted to get some "guys" for his small collection.) He looked at me like I was a crazy person. "No, of course not!" he replied, "It's our new little boy or girl!" Oh yeah...I'd forgotten again.
It's a strange place to be at times: yes, I pray for my future child, and yes, there is a part of me that wants to "move on already." The deeper part of myself, however, realizes that in order for me to receive a referral, a child must meet shocking and severe tragedy first. I don't want that to happen. While I adore Yikealo more than I can say, and I am SO very thankful that God brought him to my life, I do not begrudge his first Mother one single moment that she had with him...not one. I'm so thankful that he had that time with her. It's the same way now. If my next child is being loved and cared for by his/her family right now...please, Lord, don't take that away from them just yet. Sure, if they're already languishing in an orphanage somewhere, let's hurry this whole process along, but if not...
These thoughts are hard, and yet they always bring me back to the same place of thankfulness for God's sovreignty. I'm so glad that I'm not the one in charge. I'm so relieved that He knows the future, that as we read in church yesterday afternoon, "...I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the LORD, thoughts of peace, and not of evil..." He knows where this ship is going, and I do not. I can't control the winds, the storms, the doldrums, but He can. My job for now is to sit back and allow Him to take the rudder.
"From where I'm standing, Lord,
It's so hard for me to see
Where this is going,
And where You're leading me.
I wish I knew how
All my fears and all my questions
Are gonna play out
In a world I can't control...
When I'm lost in the mystery,
To You my future is a memory,
Cause You're already there.
You're already there,
Standing at the end of my life,
Waiting on the other side,
And You're already there." Casting Crowns