Waiting List Number: June 2013

Without further ado...

We are #55 for the month of June. 

Wardrobe courtesy of Color Me Rad, which we will be participating in tomorrow. 

Silly outfits to distract from our disappointment with the lack of movement. 

This might be my favorite Daisy picture yet. 

She does not look amused. 

OK, so yesterday I told you that I felt like this month was going to be big(ger) in the way of movement. It appears that I was wrong. On this final day in May (the month during which I prayed we would be matched with our child), I find myself feeling sad. Sorry about that. I know I should be strong and faithful and joyous in my suffering. And I do want to be those things, but my heart is hurting too much right now. We knew going in that this journey would be long. But it has been so much more difficult than I ever dreamed it could be. I think about our babies all day every day. If I am not actively talking to someone or working on something, you can be sure my mind is in Ethiopia, right next to my heart. 

I am sure you can imagine that I was upset when I got our monthly email this morning. I'd had such high hopes that there had been more movement. Each part of this process has stretched me more than I thought possible. On days like today, it seems like if I get stretched any more then I will just tear. 

And I will be honest with you, there is a part of me that is not just sad, but angry. It is the ugly part of me. The part of me that starts comparing. A dangerous game. This part of me rages, screams and cries about how unfair this is. How everyone else in the world (love a sweeping generalization) gets to have kids and we don't. 

And then there is the part of me that is both defeated and deflated. The part of me that is begging the rest of me to just give up. The part of me that truly believes this is never going to happen for us. The part of me that is fighting back tears while I type this to you. This part of me feels like there is simply nothing left to give. This part is broken, weak, empty. This part looks around and doesn't even recognize her own surroundings. 

And then there is a tiny part of me that tells the rest of me this is possible. This can happen. This will happen. And this part is about the size of a mustard seed. I like to call this part Faith. Faith was given to me by God. And without her, I would have given up before we started. Faith keeps me from going to absolute pieces on days like today. Faith reminds me that God is always only ever good, and that even though He is allowing this hurt to continue, He is not doing it arbitrarily. No. He is doing it for a greater purpose, and Faith reminds me of that truth. 

Faith prompts me, while at the gym the morning, to open my Bible app and just see what Psalm 55 (in honor of our new number) has to say. 

Verses 1-8:

Listen to my prayer, O God, do not ignore my plea;

hear me and answer me.
My thoughts trouble me and I am distraught

because of what my enemy is saying, because of the threats of the wicked;
for they bring down suffering on me
and assail me in their anger.

My heart is in anguish within me;
    the terrors of death have fallen on me.

Fear and trembling have beset me; horror has overwhelmed me.

I said, “Oh, that I had the wings of a dove! I would fly away and be at rest.

I would flee far away
and stay in the desert;

I would hurry to my place of shelter far from the tempest and storm."

Verses 16-19

As for me, I call to God,
and the Lord saves me.

Evening, morning and noon
I cry out in distress,
and he hears my voice.

He rescues me unharmed
from the battle waged against me,
even though many oppose me.

God, who is enthroned from of old,
who does not change—
he will hear them and humble them,
because they have no fear of God.

Verses 22-23

Cast your cares on the Lord
 and he will sustain you;
he will never let  the righteous be shaken.

But you, God, will bring down the wicked
 into the pit of decay;
the bloodthirsty and deceitful
 will not live out half their days.

But as for me, I trust in you.

Further evidence of God's sovereignty, no?

My faith and assurance come from God alone. Still, I do not ever want to give you the impression that this is easy or that I have it figured out. Not even close. An enormous part of me wants to head for the hills, to run as fast and as far as I can away from the hurt and the pain and the sorrow. God holds me here. I am nothing without Him. My faith in Him keeps me hanging on, and I am certainly learning to walk by faith and not by sight.

"Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." 

Hebrews 11:1

Love, 

Baylor