Day 272

I finally feel like I can let my hair down and breathe. It has been a wicked crazy week that was chalked full of stress, meltdowns, and irrational thoughts. I wish I could have been blogging everyday and sharing more intimate details with you, but my "fan" base (for lack of a better word!) stretches wide across real life and blog world. Some things must be kept private out of respect for others.

I write you, today, from a good place. We're moving forward with the agency (check goes in the mail tomorrow) and my heart has returned to a state of calm. I've been thinking about the Jana Wolffe quote that graces the side of my blog:

"The process of adopting a child pushes your personal envelope as a woman, as a mother, and ultimately, as a human being. It takes more courage than you think you have, offers more self-knowledge than you think you want, and resembles your characteristics into someone familiar but changed.

When we opened the door to adoption, I had no idea what we were getting ourselves into. We had spent so many years on the infertility train that adoption seemed like an instant solution, both exciting and new. I am thankful that God does not give us windows into the future because I surely would have given up before we even started....I am thankful that he gives me enough grace for each day and that my supply is re-fueled every morning. I know I've said it before...but this process changes you. It's hard for me to see the familiar or even the good at this time, but I hope that people will extend the same God-given grace to me and know that he's not quite finished yet.

Along with having the best man on the planet (I thank God for him everyday), I am surrounded by people that love and support me to unmeasurable ends. I am humbled by the kindness shown to me and sometimes question my worthiness of it. I want to mention a few of the things that were whispered, handed, or hugged to me this week that gave me hope to hold on to. If you are reading this blog and have someone in your life that is struggling through a difficult situation (infertility or otherwise) take note on how impacting one measure of kindness can truly be.

One of my childhood friends sat and listened to me lament for the umpteenth time and told me that she had been crying out to God to allow her to share in my burden so that my load would not be quite as heavy. When I looked in her eyes I saw my pain reflecting back. Knowing that her feet are firmly planted as she stands in the gap on my behalf, provides me the luxury of walking in weakness, when my head is just too heavy to carry.

Last Sunday, a sweet friend relayed a conversation between Jesus and Mary, regarding Lazarus (John 11:32-37)

When Mary reached the place where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet and said, "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died."

When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled. "Where have you laid him?" he asked.

"Come and see, Lord," they replied.

Jesus wept.

Then the Jews said, "See how he loved him!"

But some of them said, "Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?"

The passage, of course, goes on to relay the miraculous power of our Savior as he called Lazarus up from the dead. These verses move me because I know the pain from which Mary speaks. How many times have I cried out, "Lord...where are you???" I could repeat her words. "Lord, if you were with me, this wouldn't be happening!" The picture of Jesus weeping grips me even more. Just as he wept over his dear friend, I know he weeps over me. I know that he is weeping with me because he is my advocate...he pleads to the Father on my behalf...he knows my heart. Just as the Jews questioned his ability to keep Lazarus alive, I too question God and wonder what he's doing. As difficult as it is, I have to believe that there's a plan (It's the only hope I have). That one day my barren heart will rise from the dead and it will be no less miraculous then when the Father gave life to his servant over 2,000 years ago.

On Thursday, one of the girls I work with brought me various shades of nail polish to jazz up my collection. She wanted me to know that she had been reading my blog and thinking about me. Not only was I touched by such a sweet gift, I was reminded of the pep I had a couple of weeks ago. Painted nails are no big deal, but for me, it makes me feel healthy...and beautiful...and put together. The stress of the past week had stripped me of such luxuries. Tonight, I'm painting my nails!

Today, a friend (more of a sister) held me as I cried out my frustrations of the week. She knew that I had no words, so she spoke them to God on my behalf. I know that doesn't sound profound, but it was as if I was a little David and she was a massive Goliath (a good guy in my story!) fighting my battle for me while all I could do was cry. One of the things she prayed was that while Ben and I are faithless, that she and hubby would be full of faith, standing beside us the entire way.

Leah and Shelly both left me this verse on my last blog that ministered to me more than they'll know!! "But these things I plan won't happen right away. Slowly, steadily, surely, the time approaches when the vision will be fulfilled. If it seems slow, be patient! For it will surely take place. It will not be late by a single day." Habakkuk 2:3

I could go on and on with stories of how much support we've received. From whispered prayers to hand squeezes, I know that we are not walking this path alone. I feel the strength of my friends (including all of you) and am eternally grateful.

I was a hollow shell this week, but feel full of life, tonight, as I step back and take a deep breath.