I can’t do it. I can’t put words in a five paragraph essay form, inserting witty comments and intriguing descriptions, right now. Everything is everywhere. My mind, my heart. I thought I knew what was coming. I thought I had walked through the hard parts of adoption and this was gonna be slightly difficult but mostly beautiful. I was unavoidably naive. The sorrow that has engulfed me is almost unbearable. The intensity of the love in my heart, crippling.
I am undoubtedly overwhelmed.
I am a mother to a child that was tossed out on the street, sentenced to death. By the grace of God and the angels he sent to preserve her, death lost but the abandonment left its mark. Fortunately she has known care and attention and even love through the caretakers at her orphanage- to whom the pulse of my grateful heart will always beat. But has not known the intimacy of a mother and father. She has missed out on someone from the moment she was born, someone treasuring her mere existence. I was unable to watch her chest rise and fall as an infant or memorize her marks, and scars. She was not held close for the first 2 months of her life, but hospitalized, willing herself to live without an advocate pulling for her every breath.
I am filled with sorrow.
To put it lightly, she is terrified of us. Slightly curious and aware, but immediately tense beyond comfort at our touch. We are strangers, unknown, currently unwanted and uncomfortable. The chaos and noise of her life has become the norm and desired. She cringes at our sight and my heart breaks again and again over the rejection of my longing to love her. She is unaware of our intention, distrusts our affection and physically reacts with anxiousness at our presence.
I am heartbroken.
BUT…thank God for that word…she will. She will know. She will feel it. The unconditional love that won’t leave or abandon. The love that will make its life’s mission that the lack she felt at the forefront of her life will be diminished to nothing and overcome and filled with the an intense and indescribable joy and completeness. She will realize, eventually, that she is prized. That our love, though imperfect, is steady and full.
I am hopeful.
We get her today. Take her from the orphanage she has called home with many women who love her. Today will be a hard day. In many ways, my body is weak, my heart heavy, the load too, too, too much. But in bigger ways, I am ready. Ready to start the affirmation that she will undeniably need to trust us. To be the one and only caretakers of her days and gain her affection through an outpouring of ours. My heart beats fast as we get closer to that moment. Sweating will surely commence. But Jesus has given me himself. And I have gladly and humbly received Him and with Him, His power and strength. I will not be overcome, not because of my strength for I am in crumbles, but because of the One who is mighty to save. My champion. My savior. My rescuer.
I am empowered.
There is really no more waiting now. In 30 minutes we leave to go get her. And then she is ours- fully. Nervous, a bit weary, kinda scared. BUT…
I am ready.
“So let go, my soul, and trust in Him, the waves and wind still know His name. It is well, with my soul.”