Step of Faith

I don't know how much faith I have in this process right now.  OK, I do, and it's close to zero.  However, I do have faith that God has brought us safe this far and will bring us safely home--with our children.  I do have faith that these faces are those of our sons and daughters and that there are big things in store for all of us.

Here's the update:  a LIMIAR representative was able to successfully submit the payment we owed to the US Consulate in Rio de Janeiro today.  It was a solution 2 weeks in the making for us and probably 2 months in the making for the other family who will likely be traveling at the same time as us (to adopt a sibling group of 5).  Whew.  Now all that remains is for the Consulate to send the Acordo letter to CEJA, who must notify the court so that Lino can request a court date for us to receive custody of those beauties up there.  (Aren't the amazingly beautiful!)

Just one major step left before we know when we can take that long-anticipated flight to the south of Brazil.  So, why can't I calm down?  Where's the peace?  I'm walking around feeling like I've just had 8 cups of coffee (and it only takes one to make my heart race, my hands shake and my body twitch).  I want to say, "this could be the week!"  But I honestly think it would be easier to convince myself that this adoption will never take place and we'll be waiting forever than to step out in faith and believe that it really could happen this week.  I'm getting palpitations just thinking about it.  

Will you do it, Lord?  Will you do it now?  What could possibly glorify you more than to do it right now?

I talked a while back about the battle between flesh and spirit.  It's a sticky place to live.  And I'm stuck.  Heart knows everything will turn out OK, head doubts it strongly.  Head wraps around the reality that we are almost there, heart is afraid to believe it and risk being bruised.  Heart trusts God and his timing, head can't imagine what would make then better than now.  Head trusts that our agencies are doing everything they can, heart just wants to buy plane tickets.  Heart only wants to embrace our darling beloveds, head knows we must wait.  Head loves that so many friends desire to encourage us, heart just wants to see it all end begin.  Head/Heart...Heart/Head...See what I mean?  

This much conflict inside of one person is just plain exhausting and the funny thing is that there's nothing I can do about it.  I resolve to let my spirit rest in God's sovereignty, and immediately flip-flop into mental anxiety.  

We serve a Holy God.  That means that He is so completely other that nothing we can do makes it possible for us to wrap our minds around how other He is.  As someone said in an episode of House recently, "It would be easier for penguins to imagine quantum physics."  But we try, and it honestly comforts me to know that "if we knew everything God knew, we would not question His timing."  (Inspiring theological quote from a dear friend and past-elder of our church.)  His reasons might be because He's not through with us, or perhaps He's not through with the children yet, or maybe He's not through with one of the many observers of this long process.  We can't know, but in the meantime, He keeps throwing us morsels of encouragement, like the last bit of this post by our dear friend who is also waiting to adopt her children from Colombia and giving God the glory in the waiting.  

Here's one last thing I know for sure.  In the moment we first embrace our children, none of the anxiety or frustration or disappointment or uncertainty of the last bunch of years will matter.  It will surely disappear.  And guess who gets the glory on that day?