Tapestry

There have been times during the adoption process that I have claimed to be "weary" in the wait.

Let me just go on record now as saying that that was (unintentionally) a complete lie.  This past week, I experienced an all new "darkness" as it relates to our wait.

Let me fill you in.

First, the obvious.

We've been waiting for a referral for almost 14 months.  A process that we were told, in the beginning, would take 3-4 months.  Did you "hear" me?  It's been 14 months (!!!) and we haven't even been matched with a child.

In addition, some of you may have seen my Facebook posts, etc. about a little boy in Korah named Abraham who needs a life saving heart surgery.  A local surgeon had agreed to do Abraham's surgery and we have been waiting for the hospital to approve his case.  Last Wednesday, we received word that his case was denied.

Though I was already struggling with some heaviness regarding the wait, it was this news that seemed to launch me into what some may call a major league pity party.

In addition, on Monday, as I was (internally) already struggling, Jeff voiced a question that, to be honest, I had already been thinking about but hadn't said out loud.  Hearing it spoken, seemed to make it that much heavier:  "At what point do we start to consider that God is closing a door?".

And, so, with that conversation, turmoil set in in my heart and I spent the next several days constantly on the verge of tears; questioning myself and God's plan.

On Friday, someone posted this song, which helped begin to settle my heart.

And then on Sunday, as our worship service began, my heart immediately began to be ministered to; first through the music and then through the message.  We are wrapping up the book of Ruth and our pastor's message spoke directly to my heart as he reminded us of how Ruth had become so bitter that she referred to herself as "mara" and asked others to do the same.

Like Ruth, I had spent several days in a place where all I could focus on was the negative circumstances that seemed to surround me.  And, to be honest, I didn't want to NOT be bitter.  But several moments into the message, my pastor said something about "God's silent sovereignty" that got my attention.  I then wrote the next things that he said in my notes:

God has not abandoned us.  

He is up to something good. 

ALWAYS.

His invisible hand of providence 
never disappears in your life.

The King of Kings is plotting and working....
always!  For your good and His glory.

(These are all things that I know, by the way, but I was blinded by my bitterness.)

He used a great visual that I think we all can relate to.  If you have ever done or seen cross stitch, needlework, etc. you know the mangled mess that the back side of a great piece looks like.  We can spend our days viewing the piece from the back and wondering about the mess that it is; but, someday, when you turn it over and see the right side, you will see and know that a beautiful work has been done.

This is true of our lives too; of situations in our lives; of our adoption story.  There are times, like last week, when I choose to look only at the backside of the tapestry that He is weaving (the circumstances, the wait, the frustration, the longing) and see nothing but a mess.  And then there are times, Praise God, that I am reminded of the great work He will do, is doing and has always done in my life and I am, once again, able to see beyond the mangled mess of the "back side" to the beautiful tapestry that He is weaving.