Radio Silence and a Night of Many Tears

Tonight we had to discipline Cara. She spent upwards of 10 min chewing the same bite of food and refusing to swallow her dinner. After much negotiation and numerous explanations about what would happen if she refused to eat her dinner, we felt we needed to stick to the boundaries we had set and send her to an early bedtime without stories. This is a sad punishment for us too because some of the most priceless memories are made as we tuck our sweet child into bed. Even as we went through the bedtime routine tonight and we were all sad I reminded her that she wasn't a bad kid, she was a very good girl who made a bad decision tonight.

Afterward I sat in the hallway outside her room. I promised to talk to her and help her calm down if she stopped crying. As I sat outside her door and listened to "Mommy I need you" and responded with "You're okay and I love you sooo much," I cried. Not just because I wanted to curl up with my little girl and assure her of my love but because not far down the hall sits another empty bedroom and a child somewhere is crying "Mommy I need you." But it's more than just a door and an unfinished dinner that separates me from my son.

This week the laws surrounding the adoption tax credit changed. Our family is no longer eligible for the nearly $13,000 tax credit we were planning to use to reimburse a portion of our adoption expenses. Somehow for me this was more than just money, it felt like a slap in the face of an already difficult journey.

In the midst of all this I feel like I am lost in radio silence. Our social worker retired and no one has contacted us about meeting with a new one. The only contact I receive is a generic newsletter sent sporadically to everyone associated with our orphanage. But what's worse than the silence from the adoption agencies is the silence I am feeling from God.

I can relate to how David feels in these excerpts from Psalm77:

I yell out to my God, I yell with all my might,
I yell at the top of my lungs. He listens.

^2-6 I found myself in trouble and went looking for my Lord;
my life was an open wound that wouldn’t heal.
When friends said, “Everything will turn out all right,”
I didn’t believe a word they said.
I remember God—and shake my head.
I bow my head—then wring my hands.
I’m awake all night—not a wink of sleep;
I can’t even say what’s bothering me.
I go over the days one by one,
I ponder the years gone by...

^{11-12 ...}Once again I’ll go over what God has done,
lay out on the table the ancient wonders;
I’ll ponder all the things you’ve accomplished,
and give a long, loving look at your acts.

^13-15 O God! Your way is holy!
No god is great like God!
You’re the God who makes things happen;
you showed everyone what you can do—
You pulled your people out of the worst kind of trouble,
rescued the children of Jacob and Joseph.

 

It's hard to remain confident as wave after wave of bad news or no news crashes over us. When God speaks clearly I am the first to do whatever is asked, but when God is silent I can become restless. That is why God has blessed me with Bill to run this marathon with (and it is a marathon). Tonight as my tears ran down my face my husband assured me of the many times we have heard God's voice calling us to be a family for the fatherless.

 

I think I already posted the lyrics to the song "You are I am"... it came on the radio again last night and I am always encouraged by the chorus:

 

You're the one who conquers giants
You're the one who calls out kings
You shut the mouths of lions
You tell the dead to breathe
You're the one who walks through fire
You take the orphan's hand
You are the one Messiah
You are I am

 

I know that even though I am not the one holding Ugi's hand tonight (even if no one is) God is there whispering "you're okay and I love you soooo much." He will take his hand and guide him to us at the right time.

 

It's hard surrendering the timeline I have for my family. It's become a daily thing. I try hard to pretend like I don't have a timeline, but it sneaks up on me and every now and then I look at the calendar and I'm angry that he still isn't home and that Cara is still asking "when mommy?" Some days it feels like I am letting her down but I have to trust that one day we will all look back and it will make sense. These years will feel like a blip and a lifetime of memories will wash away the loneliness we feel now.

 

God is good. I see that everyday in Cara's smile and my ability to stay home with her. I feel it each morning as my feet hit the floor. He will provide if it's $5 or $15,000. Even in the silence I can't deny His goodness.

 

Thank you for being on this journey with us and allowing me to process my heart externally with you. Your support is everything.

 

Lauren