Sunday in worship, we sang one of my new favorite songs, Even So Come (I’ll embed it at the end of the post). As we sang of longing for Christ’s return, I was reminded that our waiting and longing in the adoption process point to our deeper longing for Christ’s return.
(There were paragraphs here that felt forced. I tried for two days to write this post that had been swirling around in my head. Nothing was right. So, I started typing my prayer. It’s raw. It isn’t pretty. But I’m sharing it with you.)
Lord, what do You want me to write in this post? You brought the thought to mind. You reminded me that my longing for a child points to my longing for Your return. Maybe this post is difficult to write because, most days, I don’t think much about Your return. Most days, I go about my day as though I’m not adopted, as though You didn’t give Your life for me, as though You didn’t purchase me at a great price. So, maybe this wait for a child has a deeper purpose than making me a mother. Maybe this wait is more about reminding me I am a child – Your child. I am adopted – by You. I’m waiting for a baby, but I’m also waiting for You. So, how do I wait for our baby? Well, some days better than others. Some days, I’m filled with joy and excitement. I can’t wait to be a mommy! I can picture our little brown baby sitting in her crib, throwing her head back in laughter, reaching her pudgy hands up for me. I can imagine bath time and story time and dinner time. I look forward to her falling asleep on my chest, lulled by the rhythm of my heart and the quiet hum of my current favorite worship song. Other days, I feel sad. I see the brokenness of this world. I know that we’re becoming parents out of someone else’s pain. I feel the emptiness of our arms, hear the silence of our nursery. Still others, I lean more toward being angry. Lord, I hate to admit my anger. I’m embarrassed by it. But You know my heart. I can’t conceal it from You. I’m angry. You hurt my feelings. You put a longing in my heart years ago to be a mother, specifically to become a mother through adoption. You confirmed that it was time for us to adopt. Things moved quickly in the beginning. Money was coming in quickly. You affirmed over and over that we were doing the right thing. Then things slowed down. We had to change paths. The silence is deafening. We’re waiting. I know You have a plan. I know it’s the best plan. I know You’ve already written this story. I know it’s part of YOUR story. I know all the right things to say. I know how to put a smile on my face, give all the right answers, and act like I’m OK with all of this. But, God, on the worst days, I’m not OK with all of this. I want You to do something different. I want You to make me a mom NOW. If only I felt so strongly about Your return, huh? Maybe not even that. Maybe if I noticed how much other people are hurting and not just my own hurt. Maybe if I stopped and took notice of the broken people around me. Maybe if I cried out for justice and begged You to return and make all things right again. Maybe my pain, this wait, is reminding me why You had to come in the first place. Reminding me that people need You. Reminding me why You haven’t returned: “The Lord is not slow to fulfill His promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance” (2 Peter 3:9). You haven’t returned yet, because You haven’t finished adopting yet. I trust You. I believe You. I believe You will return. Deepen my longing for Your return. I want to long for Your return more than I long to be a mother, and that’s a lot. Take all of these feelings that this wait has stirred up inside of me and transform them into pure worship of You. Remind me of Your truth. I want more than being able to say all of the right things. I want to believe Your truth deep down in the marrow of my bones. That is going to happen through the trial of waiting. Waiting for our baby and waiting for Your return. So, God, will You help me wait well? I think I’ve done a kind of crummy job so far, and that makes me ever so grateful that You see Jesus when You look at me! Help me wait better. Help me get to know You better through this process. Refine me through this process. Make me more like Jesus. Even so, come.