I woke up sad this morning.
Lots of reasons, probably, could be sourcing the sadness. It's rainy and cold here in Maine. I've been stuck in the house the last couple days doing laundry, vacuuming, scrubbing, etc. --not exactly inspiring.
We've been reassessing and recalculating and readjusting our plans for the transition from Maine to Quebec. It looks like we will relocate the family in about 3 weeks. That means we have such a short time to enjoy the wonderfully special things about this place. And I do not know exactly when we will be back, or with what portion of the family. We will probably choose to return for some time to navigate some final adoption processes after traveling to pick up the boys, but it is hard to see now what that might look like. As travel gets pushed back farther, it makes it more likely that Ethan will be starting school relatively soon after our return. That, of course, makes it harder to just pack up the family for a return trip to Maine!
Another sad fact is that I know of one one successful Ethiopian adoption court appearance (out of twenty-one) for our agency in the last two weeks. Failure after failure is discouraging. Children must wonder when their promised families will actually come. Families continue to yearn for precious little ones. New referrals are slowed. Agencies must complete additional work and face increasing costs as timelines expand. All of this certainly contributes to my sense of sadness today.
Finally, I feel the loss of time with my boys today. If we had passed court on the first try, we would be going to get them in just a few days. The opportunity to really learn "who" they are would be so near. Instead, it seems so far away today.
I've been reading a book about helping children through various traumatic events, and the author, Karen Dockrey, has challenged her readers to avoid the trap of trying to make everything OK -- a trap to which Christian can be highly susceptible. She asks, "Why do so many...feel that pain is contrary to faith? The Psalms are full of pain. Lamentations details the suffering of the Israelites. Hosea's agony over his wife's unfaithfulness went on for years, and God compared His love to Hosea's. The deeply spiritual Paul fought a physical ailment that tormented him and made him weak."
My sadness is not without hope. I try to fill my mind with promises from Scripture. However, I do not quote these glibly. When Jesus said, "In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world," what did he really expect us to do? Dockrey has suggested that "to take heart means to keep your eyes on Jesus, not to dance through the sadness...to demonstrate confidence that we will one day overcome, not that everything is instantly OK." Amen.
Sad with hope. That's me today. Quiet, comforting hugs and expressions of love ('cause I know I'm blessed with an incredible support system) accepted here!