Friday, April 17, 2015

Prisoners of Hope

The time between seeing our sweet boy's face for the first time and our trip to meet him seems to be growing ever longer. It has been almost five months since we first laid eyes on our beautiful boy, and we are still uncertain as to when we will actually be able to travel to meet him. Adam and I have begun to grow {understandably} weary in the wait. I was venting some of my frustration to my mom on the phone earlier this week -- she is sharing in our sentiments these days -- and I just told her that I did not get it any more. Plain and simple.

In the adoption world, all those months and years leading up to your referral, you can hang on to the reality that you are not waiting for A child, but you are waiting for YOUR child. So you can remind yourself as the days pass by that God is at work preparing YOUR child to be brought into YOUR family. But now, here we are, five months removed from seeing the child God has gifted our family with, and we are still waiting. Waiting. Waiting...

After we got off the phone, my mom sent me a text with a Scripture reference in it.

Zechariah 9:12

I was not immediately familiar with it, but some quick Googling left me without too many words.

I need to do more research to figure out the exact context of this verse, but this one sentence was enough to basically halt me in my tracks. I so identify with the idea of being a prisoner of hope, being held captive by God and His infinite goodness. So much of this journey to our boy has been heartbreakingly awful. I have had more hard days than good ones, and I have shed far too many tears for me to ever count. I have hurt. I have begged God for favor. I have prayed for the safety and health of our boy. I have asked God for mercy. And in all of that, I have not received many of the answers I wanted. Our adoption has taken YEARS longer than we were told it would. The emotional and spiritual toll has been steep. It is true that there has been one brilliant and beautiful YES to our prayers, but we have gotten so many NOS or NOT NOWS.

And at many points along the way I have felt bereft of all hope. I have felt alone and forgotten. I have felt {in very real ways} that the Lord was far from me. But then I read Zechariah 9:12, and I am reminded WHO my fortress really is. You see, the problem with me wanting to abandon all hope is that I simply can't do it. I know who God is, and I know that He is good. So even though I have found myself, countless times, in places where I begin to doubt and lose hope, there is this foundation of truth beneath my feet that refuses to give in.

The Lord is my fortress, and I am a prisoner of hope. He will provide. He will, as Zechariah says, restore twice as much to us. I don't know what that twice as much will be, but I have a feeling there will be a LOT of joy surrounding it.

A few weeks ago, one of our pastors preached on hope and how the hope of Christ follower is different. Hope in our English language is something we wish for, something we desire to happen. Hope in God's economy is an assurance. It is not something we hope happens; it is something Jesus has already done. Beth Moore said it well: Hope is the knowledge that God is going to show up.

I like that. I love it, actually. Because I do, way down deep, know that God is going to show up. I know that He is going to do this incredible thing. I just have to continue to trust Him.

And maybe you are there, too. Maybe, like me, you are battle scarred and so tired of fighting. Can I tell you, from very lengthy personal experience, that God is still good in your trial? I pray that He is your fortress, too.


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