You see, in this funny business of Hurry Up and Wait, it seems that it can become almost TOO easy to create fantasies (both good and bad) about That Moment.
Who hasn't watched a good Forever Family Day video or two?
Who hasn't cried at the wealth of emotion and love displayed?
Who hasn't imagined what that day might look like for your family?
Don't get me wrong. I want That kind of introduction, too. But I know that for every beautiful moment caught on film, there are 10 others filled with apprehension, rejection, and fear. Those moments probably don't make the videos very often....
I think it's our human nature to try creating fairytales out of our*sometimes mediocre* lives ( I said sometimes, don't shoot me yet).
And this is no exception.
Of course, I want my sweet daughter to have an immediate connection with me.
I want her to melt into my arms and stare deeply into my eyes, completely confident in me as her mother.
I want to see restoration immediately begin happening in my daughter's heart.
But I don't live in a fairy-tale.
And in reality? We're talking about a very young little girl who has experienced more loss and trauma than most of us can comprehend.
We're talking about strangers who don't look anything like her, who don't speak her language, who don't smell the way other caretakers smell. And who will *probably* be quite disheveled and jet-lagged.
I don't remember reading anything quite so terrifying in any of my childhood fairytales.
Not to mention, they have probably only recently started introducing the idea of a mommy/daddy scenario to her. So while I DESIRE for her to immediately realize the depth of my love for her, I UNDERSTAND why she won't.
No, I have to set that "attachment bar" much. much. lower.
In fact, I will be thrilled if she doesn't go screaming into another room
(If it were me, I probably would).
(If it were me, I probably would).
And, of course, it breaks my heart to know that this won't look like a storybook fairytale.
Of course, it hurts to recognize that rejection--or at the very least apprehension-- are possible players in this story.
Of course, this excitement and anxiousness cocktail are constantly at war with each other in my soul.
But, when God called us towards adoption, there were no promises of roses and rainbows. He made no effort to "sugar-coat" things or "trick" us with glowing imaginations. (I did those lovelies-- all by myself).
Instead, he broke my heart.
He reminded me of what it took to bring me Redemption.
He recalled, for me, my own story of becoming part of His family.
He declared me as a child of God always, even though I have--at times-- been:
Full of rejection.
Struggling down the path of healing that is littered with past grief, hurts, rejections, abandonments. Trauma.
And through it all, He walked with me.
He comforted me.
He picked me up and dusted me off.
And He said the words, "You Are Mine". Over and over.
And so. No. I don't expect a fairytale. At least not in the Annie sense.
But I happen to think God writes much better stories, anyways.
"He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out of the mud and the mire. He set my feet on solid ground and steadied me as I walked along." Psalm 40:2
"For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope." Jeremiah 29:11
*Foot-note: I mentioned that we have examined our "expectations" of this journey and that is completely true...but it doesn't mean we won't experience hurts, frustrations, and weariness in this. (as we have already many times), so please continue to pray for us: For God's Favor, For Open Doors, For Miracles.....While our "expectations" may be realistic, I know we serve a Supernatural God... One who is often looking for opportunities to surprise us, and I *personally* happen to think this is a perfect one.