Semien Mountains National Park, Ethiopia
Our adoption is dragging and dragging and dragging. If it goes the way it has been, it could be another year, or more. Last year, I comforted myself by believing that it would be our last Christmas as a family of six. Ha. Maybe Christmas 2012. Maybe not.
It seems like Satan is having a field day in Ethiopia. He has his crossbow drawn and arrows are flying all over adoption. Every week there seems to be news and none of it is encouraging.
Most days I am okay. Most days I rest in God's sovereignty. Most days when I wonder if we should have chosen another agency, I quickly remember that God sent us to Gladney because our daughter is with Gladney. She's not with another agency. When people ask if we are thinking of switching, that is what I reply.
This is HIS adoption. Not mine. HIS. HERS. Not mine.
A friend of ours from church has a daughter she adopted from China years ago. During her wait, they lost a referral. Through some random mess-up, the pretty little girl that they thought was theirs went to another family. Suzy told me, "But that was okay. Because I wanted Isaac. I did NOT want Ishmael. And if we had to wait longer for Isaac, then we will just wait. Because I wanted Isaac! Not Ishmael!"
She was referring to Genesis chapter 16, a chapter I know very well since I taught it at a retreat in Kansas in April. Sarah, who was barren, wanted a son. God had promised her one, but then he took forever to deliver. Finally she took matters into her own hands and had Abraham sleep with her servant girl Hagar. The plan worked. Disastrously. So badly that if you want to know why the Twin Towers were bombed on 9/11, it has a lot to do with Sarah's clever little plot to hurry up God's will.
Sarah wasn't a terrible woman, she just lost her faith. Or maybe she didn't know God well enough to even have much faith to start with. Maybe she didn't realize how powerful he was, how wonderful he was. Maybe she thought he needed her help. So she did what the world said to do, which was to hook up her husband with her maid and hope she got pregnant. Sounds crazy to us, but it was actually perfectly acceptable, and even expected, around 2000 BC.
As I pointed out in my lesson, Sarah had excuses. God had not revealed himself to her at all, and only to her husband in rather small doses. It's not like she could go cuddle up with some Psalms when she felt discouraged - because there weren't any Psalms to cuddle up with.
I, however, have no excuse.
For I KNOW who God is.
I know he is good.
I know that he works all things for good.
I know that he is faithful.
I know that his plans are beyond my imagination.
There are some days that I want to stomp my foot at God and tell him to HUR! RY! UP!!!
As this process goes on, I bet those days will increase.
So I will cuddle up with some Psalms. And remind myself who my God is.
He is the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
He is the God of me.
He is the God of a baby girl, somewhere in Ethiopia, named Bethlehem.
He is the God who sets the lonely in families.
He is a mighty warrior who saves.
He is a mighty warrior who hears my cry and the cry of my daughter, who invites me to take refuge in him.
So ~ I will wait for Isaac.
I wait for the LORD, my soul waits, and in His word I do hope.