This is the song that has gotten me through the last couple of months. I often fall asleep with the lyrics going through my head and find myself singing them as I wake. I can't get through the song without crying out in praise to God, tears streaming down my face.

I am holding fast to this hope...

No more sorrow,
No more pain,

I will rise
On Eagle's wings,

Before my God
Fall on my knees,

And rise...

I asked God to take away my habit.
God said, No.
It is not for me to take away,
but for you to give it up.

I asked God to grant me patience.
God said, No. Patience is a byproduct of tribulations;
it isn't granted, it is learned.

I asked God to give me happiness.
God said, No.
I give you blessings;
Happiness is up to you.

I asked God to spare me pain.
God said, No.
Suffering draws you apart from
worldly cares
and brings you closer to me.

I asked God to make my spirit grow.
God said, No.
You must grow on your own,
but I will prune you to make you fruitful.

I asked God for all things
that I might enjoy life.
God said, No.
I will give you life,
so that you may enjoy all things.

I asked God to help me LOVE others, as much as He loves me.
God said... Ahhhh,
finally you have the idea.

Prayer...

I found this quote on another blog and it really hit home with me (I've changed the original poster's child's name to "our children")...

Maybe the point of prayer, if it isn't to get God to do what we want, is instead to bring ourselves into alignment with God so that we can be close enough to Him to be okay with what He decides instead of feeling like we need to try to get our way. Maybe the beauty in having lots of people pray for *our children* is not that the numbers of their prayers will influence God as it is that there is beauty in the number of people who may draw themselves near to God by praying.
MckMama

Perfectly said.

And exactly what I believe.

That paper we need to have redone? We found someone willing to do it. Very quickly. It will be done either this coming week or early the week after. :)

And the paper we've been waiting on in Guatemala? We found out that it's finished, submitted, and waiting for review by the CNA. :)

"but those who hope in the LORD
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint." Isaiah 40:31

"I wait for the LORD, my soul waits,
and in his word I put my hope." Psalm 130:5

We have to redo another paper. Another one that is not an easy fix.

No word on the the paper being finished in Guatemala either.

Jump through the hoop...
How high do you want me to jump?

Jump through the hoop...
How high do you want me to jump?

Jump through the hoop...
How high do you want me to jump?

Sigh..

Captured...

One of my very favorite times of the day is when I tuck Jac in at night.

Each night he talks while he gets his pj's on, he talks while he's supposed to be brushing his teeth ;), he talks while he's using the bathroom, and he chats up a storm as he crawls up into bed.

But the minute he hits that bed, something magical happens in this little guy's heart. Something so precious that each night I am held captive by a flood of love for my little man.

As he's talking, he scooches himself down under his blanket. He places his beautiful black head just so on his dinosaur pillow, pulls the blanket up around his chin, closes his eyes, and smiles. Not any smile, but a smile of deep, deep contentment.

As I stand there in the hazy glow of the night, tucking those covers round that precious, grinning face, I kiss him. I feel his the curly lashes of his eyes and his radiant smile and I kiss him. Again and again. He snuggles in so sweetly. Sighs ever so softly. I plant soft, tender butterfly kisses all over the curves of face.

I can't help myself.

My heart leaves my body and I am washed away by this love.

Oh how this little boy has captured my heart! He is boisterous, loud, whiny, goofy, huggy, loud, and at night it all wraps up into one precious, precious package.

Now matter how bad or hard my day has been, tucking in my baby always makes everything right again and I can't help but leave his room knowing that this is exactly what God had planned.

I am so thankful. :)

Comments are back "on". Sorry about that! :)

Alone...

Nothing new.

Still waiting on a paper that needs to make it's way through the courts where the kids were born. The same paper we've been waiting on since July. I'm discouraged, frustrated, and sad.

I am coming up on a year since our Christmas trip to visit the kids. All kinds of emotions are being dragged up with that memory.

This weekend I received word that Victor, a precious 13 year old I had fallen in love with while we were in Guatemala, had passed away. He had kidney disease and was receiving some treatment. His 12 year old sister Joselyn had been his caretaker for many, many years. She is now alone in Guatemala and her brother died alone. The absolute wrongness of this is ripping me apart. It is not ok for children to be alone, to die alone. It is not ok for us to pass it off as a "statistic".

Ashtyn and I were with Victor and Joselyn all day at the amusement park last year. After watching us quietly for part of the day, Victor silently slipped his hand in mine. We walked like that, a little boy in terrible pain and a mom who's heart was being destroyed by the tragedy of it all. I loved these two children.

Instantly.

Deeply.

I have no doubt that Victor is with his Savior. His life is now free of pain and suffering and he finally knows what love truly is.

But it kills me that so many are alone right now on this earth.

I want my babies.

Please God.

It is all wrong.

Adoption Disruption *EXTREMELY SENSITIVE*

I am posting per request of a very dear friend of mine. Her family has found themselves in a position that none of us can understand unless we've walked a mile in their shoes. This is an extremely sensitive post and because of that I am disabling comments. If this post touches you in a way that leads you to believe you can help their family, please use the button link on my sidebar to contact me. I will not allow bashing of Corey and her family. Please understand that they are not doing this because they want to, they are doing this to save their son.

At the very least, I'm asking that you pray for this family and for this little guy.

LINK TO COREY'S BLOG POST

Sifted...

From September through December are tough months for me. Every year as the harvest begins, I hope and I pray that this year will be different. Unfortunately it never is.

You see, it was on September 19, 2005 that we were told that the kids would be home for Christmas. As I watched the harvest that year, I was filled with joy knowing that next year my new little ones would be thrilled to see those machines moving through the fields. It was a season of joy.

October was spent preparing for our newest arrivals. It was in the middle of October that we began to wonder what was taking so long.

Early November shattered our worlds.

Christmas was a blur of tears. Not only for me, but for my family and my extended family, as those two places remained empty at the table. Christmas service was spent in the church bathroom sobbing.

*~~*~~*~~*~~*

The years go on. Each spring I think that maybe this will be the year that my children in Guatemala will see the harvest. This year especially I had hope. Hope that by harvest we would be nearly finished and that surely this Christmas would spent with our family complete.

It is not to be.

Another year of machinery harvesting the corn and beans.

Another year of tears, of questions with no answers, of fighting through anger and sorrow and sadness that seep into my very soul.

This year has been different though. This year I was the most angry at God that I have ever been. Maybe because the dream was so close, only to be snatched so cruelly away. This last month, I have been so angry at God that I questioned the reality of my faith like I never have before. The words were coming out my mouth, but the belief behind them was absent.

What good was a God who never seemed to care?

Why should I waste my time praising this God?

Was God weak?

Does God ever even listen?

The month of September was spent in church services that rocked me to my core at a time when I needed it most. A service on unanswered prayer that sent me scurrying out the door to cry in the safety of my van. A service on the power of God to answer prayer that left me questioning my questions.

And then last night.

A service given by our missionary in the Ukraine, spoken in Russian, translated by another pastor. A Ukrainian Christian, uttering the very questions and fears that assaulted my soul.

"What is God doing?"

"Does God care?"

And then this passage...

"Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift you as wheat. But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers." Luke 22:31-32

Jesus, praying for the faith of his precious child.

It took my breath away.

God, screaming at me through all the questions, through all the tears, through all the anger, "I AM HERE. GRAB HOLD OF ME. I AM HERE."

The pain is still deep. Old scars are still torn and bleeding. I am still bruised, tattered, and tearful. The anger is not gone, but swallowing up my unbelief are the precious words of God telling me, I AM HERE.

MY HEART CRIES OUT IN PRAISE OF THE GOD WHO PRAYS.