Wednesday, July 21, 2010

One Year

One year ago today, we were accepted into our agency's Rwanda program. I remember where I was when I got the call: my friend Lauren’s house, in Orlando. I had the boys with me, and Lauren and I were enjoying a rather chaotic visit while the boys played with her son (and Iain’s first friend) Noah. When my phone rang and I saw it was from Virginia, I told her “it’s them!” and stepped outside into the heat and quiet, leaving her to deal with the crazy kids.

When I came back inside, grinning, she gave me a big hug and we imagined for a few moments where my daughter was right then. Had her heart just started beating, inside the womb of the woman who would give her life? Was she already in the orphanage, waiting for us? Had she just been born? Lauren was about to have her second son (he was born on my birthday a week later!), and she remarked how ten months (the estimated wait at the time) was just like a pregnancy. How soon she’d be with us! I thought. I could be holding her by my next birthday.

Now we’ve hit the one year mark. We still haven’t received our approval, which means if we got it today, we’d have another three or four months or so before we have our daughter in our arms. The wait time is lengthening. Waiting for my daughter has probably been the hardest thing I have ever had to do. We have three children, but one of them is so far away. I want them all home with me. I want to kiss them all goodnight tonight, to read to them all, to hold them all. It tears my heart up. Yesterday was one of the hardest days I have had so far during this wait. I think it was because I knew that today was the year-mark. What a tough milestone to face. I feel a sense of hopelessness; I can’t even pray with words. Just groanings of the soul, which I am comforted to know He understands.

But I know, I know that it will be worth it. Every single tear that falls, every single ache in my heart -- our daughter is worth it. Not just when I hold her in my arms someday, no, even before that. It is worth it right now. Our daughter is worth fighting for, and I know that the hurt now is a measure of the love that Jesus is pouring into my heart for her. 

Will you pray for our daughter especially today? And pray that soon we would be able to hold her and love on her and bring her home.

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

Feeling the hurt in your heart right with you...suddenly the waiting has become exponentially harder. Those who sow in tears will reap a harvest of joy.

Holly H.

Anonymous said...

Now I'm crying too. I don't know what it is with your little girl and my heart, but I feel a connection to her that is so deep. Maybe it's because i love you and I hurt/long/rejoice with you. I don't know. But I do know that she (and you) will be in our prayers today! Love and long distance hugs!

Courtney said...

yes, friend...praying for you!

Vanderpool days said...

We are praying, for everyone from the front of the line on down, but especially for those of you who have been waiting so long.

Mrs said...

I no longer have any words, either. Still, we won't stop praying.

Vincents said...

I remember that feeling... so hard. Write letters to her, draw pictures for her, sing songs in her honor. Ask for the spiritual connection to deepen while you wait... she'll feel that! I'm sure Espy did because our bond was instant and I have no doubt it was because of what happened during the wait time. Praying for you.