Closer Still

We are quite happy to hear that there have been a couple more referrals this week, which means that we're right up there in line. About five couples turned in paperwork the same day we did, which means that there's kind of a tie for first place now. So, keep us and our baby(ies) in your prayers. We still don't know who they are, but are closer to finding out than we ever have been (which sounds exciting to say).

I never expected waiting to be so all-consuming. For most of the wait, I was able to think about other things, do other things, have my heart other places. As the call gets closer though, my heart is beginning to transfer to some baby in Ethiopia. So, for now my heart is in one place and my life in another. It kind of feels like my last semester in college, when Joseph and I were engaged, but still long-distance. The closer our wedding day got, the harder it was to wait. I remember walking around the Wheaton conservatory after a visit with Joseph repeating the mantra "This IS my life now" to try to stay invested in the present. So, I'm doing the same now - walking around Bloomington trying to make myself stay invested here and not live in the future. It's pretty hard though.

I'm also trying to avoid my apartment in the afternoon. When I'm there during AWA business hours I tend to just want to hold the phone and wait for it to ring. Rather pathetic - I know, but I can't help myself :-)

Lessons In Waiting

Recently I've discovered T.S. Eliot, who speaks of the idea of death and birth and much, much more in his "Four Quartets." The following passage convicted me one evening last week, when I was tempted to throw a temper tantrum and demand a baby from God NOW! Lessons in waiting.

"I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope
For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love
For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith
But the faith and love and the hope are all in the waiting.
Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:
So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing."

"Whisper of running streams, and winter lightning.
The wild thyme unseen and the wild strawberry,
The laughter in the garden, echoed ecstasy
Not lost, but requiring, pointing to the agony
Of death and birth."

Birth and Death

As the time to get our referral comes closer, we are incredibly excited to meet our baby, find out how old they are, and see their picture. Sometimes just the thought of this is enough to make my heart race, my hands shake, and my eyes get teary. But, about that time, my tears turn to sadness rather than joy; Sadness because mixed with our joy of adopting a baby, is a mother's sorrow at giving up her child.

Somewhere in Ethiopia, is my child's mother. I don't know her, I don't know her circumstances, and I may never know. However, I do know that this is not a happy time for her. She has given birth to a baby and either immediately faced her own physical death, or an emotional death at deciding to give up her child.

But, don't all births have a tinge of death in them? I remember thinking after each of my three miscarriages, that it is a strange thing to go through labor pains, only to allow a baby to die. I thought this was unique to miscarriages or stillbirths, but as I thought more about it, this is true of all births.

As soon as we are born, we begin to die. The only variable is the amount of time that passes between birth and death. Call me morbid, but I find this incredibly encouraging.

Why is it encouraging? Because it points us to true life. It prevents me from looking to this life, or my baby's life to be THE thing. It makes us realize that, in Christ, the reverse is true. Only when we die do we begin to live. The gospel is "Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. (John 12:24)" "For whoever wishes to save his life shall lose it; but whoever loses his life for My sake shall find it. (Matthew 16:25)"

"For not one of us lives for himself, and not one dies for himself; for if we live, we live for the Lord, or if we die, we die for the Lord; therefore whether we live or die, we are the Lord's. For to this end Christ died and lived again, that He might be Lord both of the dead and of the living. (Romans 14:7-9)."

Whether she knows it or not, my baby's biological mother is painting an incredible picture of Christ to her child. She is sacrificing her life, either physically or emotionally, so that her baby may have life.

I hope some of this makes sense. I'm only beginning to put this into words. I will hopefully have the next 18 years of my child's life to speak it to them.

A Walk to Beautiful

A few weeks ago I watched a documentary titled "A Walk to Beautiful." It tells the stories of a number of Ethiopian women who have fistulas (a hole in the bladder or rectum due to prolonged labor) and their journey to a hospital in Addis where it can be treated.

When I first heard about the documentary, I was somewhat interested, but thought 'Well, there are health problems everywhere. Why should this get special attention? What's the big deal?' So, with that attitude I put it in and was immediately broken.

Suddenly I was looking at a woman, about my age, who could be my future child's sister or aunt. What was she suffering from? What had happened to her? She had gotten married, become pregnant, and when the time came, began the labor of childbirth. Her friends told her to keep working and then the pain would be over. But, it wasn't. Her labor continued ceaselessly for one week. When a doctor finally came, he came to extract death, not life from this woman's womb.

She thought that was finally the end and she could mourn and heal. But, she didn't heal. Instead, she lived day in, day out, covered in her own excrement. Her husband sent her back to her family. Her family would not let her live in their house because she stank. Instead, they built a twig lean-to by the animal shed for her to live in. Here she lived, wanting to die, but too fearful of God to take her own life. She was shunned by everyone and laughed at when she went out in public.

It went on to show her journey, by foot and bus, to one of the few hospitals who will actually accept fistula patients. Most hospitals shut their doors to such outcasts. However, at this hospital, she was welcomed, loved, and treated. During the course of her stay, she met many other women with the same condition; Some had been beaten by their fathers and husbands, some had been married off by age 10, all had lost a baby and their dignity.

I was overwhelmed by the stories of these women, most of whom were years younger than me. This documentary was made just last year. Unlike most things I watch, I could not separate myself from these women. Like I said, they could be my child's aunts, sisters, cousins. Suddenly I realized that Africa's problems are my problems, just as their wealth (their children) is my wealth.

"A Walk to Beautiful" ends with hope, and you should watch it for yourself, but it was missing the hope of the gospel. By taking one of Ethiopia's children into our family, we are hoping to, in a small way, give the gospel to Ethiopia. After all, Christ can make a meal for thousands out of a few fish and loaves of bread. Think of what He can do with one child.

Blogging

I must admit my blog entries have been rather pathetic recently and I wanted to give at least some excuse. We no longer have the internet at home, so I can't sit down and post something when inspiration comes. Rather, I just try to hold it in and then post when I have my laptop and internet access in the same place. However, this is usually at the public library, where there are a bit more, um, distractions than at home.

In order for my weak wireless card to pick up a strong signal, I sit directly underneath a hub. This happens to be in a very central location and right next to the reference desk, where people come with all kinds of questions. My favorite was a phone call I overheard. My attention was caught by the woman behind the counter saying 'excuse me?' in a rather annoyed tone. This was followed by her saying 'American?' By this point I looked up to catch her rolling her eyes and beginning "A" "M", no "M" as in mother, "E". . . I could just imagine someone sitting at home, trying to fill out a form, and getting stuck figuring out how to spell 'American.' Then thinking, "I know, I'll call the Monroe County Public Library! Librarians know the answer to everything!" I'm just glad they didn't call the church office. People who answer phones are saints if you ask me :-)

You may have guessed, I'm writing this blog from home. I'm going to make a new attempt to actually write when I have thoughts and just post them later.

My other defense of my weak blog posts, is that I'm still not exactly sure what I think of blogging. I much prefer to write my thoughts, prayers, hopes, dreams in my journal, where someone can read it when I'm dead and, hopefully, see God's work throughout the entirety of my life. Or to talk with someone about things. Just posting my mind and heart on the worldwide web for anyone to read or misunderstand or take out of context is rather scary to me, and so I’ve stuck to news information on our adoption, which, at this point is not much.

But, stay tuned. I will post some actual thoughts someday and if you're interested you can read them. If not, just keep checking for the news posts, which will be there as soon as there is news.

Waiting some more

Joseph and I are still in our crash course on 'lessons in waiting.' Keep us in your prayers. Our agency is currently giving out referrals to people who turned in paperwork in April 2008. Ours was turned in with about 5 other couples in the first week of May 2008. So, February may or may not be our month for a referral. It just depends on how many babies are born and make it to our agency's orphanage.