Hope

For over two years adoption has been the primary thing on my mind even when I refused to talk about it.  There's been a ping pong battle going on between my mind and my heart.

Logically I know children are messy, they have unending needs, they require every last penny and ounce of energy that we have or can borrow.  I'm 45 and have been recovering from back surgery - surely mothering is a young woman's sport! 

The seven years I spent mothering Ian were the most important years of my life.  I'm no spring chicken, but I'm not dead yet...I miss mothering...I miss sharing my days with a little one.  I miss the awe and wonder as they discover new things.  I miss the joy of all their firsts.  I miss cuddles and coos...I miss wide eyed innocence and grand adventures.



Here we are in the midst of the home study process.  I shouldn't still be wavering...I should be 100% sure that this is the right step, but at 45 I'm thinking of becoming "pregnant" again...maybe I should have my head examined?


I wrestle with so many fears in this journey.  Fears not only for myself but for the child also.  Will a little one who looks different from us ever feel secure in our family?  Will they truly know that they are wanted and loved?  In my humanness I will fail them...God help us!

I think of how my heavenly Father chose to adopt me.  He says He loves me and though I want to so badly, I struggle to really believe it, because I don't always feel it.  I wrestle with insecurities and identity issues because I don't look like Him.  I hang my head in shame because don't act like Him.   Still, I want to look and act like Him, and it's His desire for me.  But as my Dad, His greatest desire is for me to come Home.  In the meantime, He longs for the day when we will be together face to face and He prepares a place just for me...yep, that's what adoptive parent's do. 

My Hope:  Born 'neath someone else's breast, yet safely home within our nest...

Lord we are in Your hands...can we bring them home? 




 

I love robins.  They speak to me of the hope of new beginnings...spring. 

I live in Minnesota where winters are dark, harsh and long.  Our only child, our sweet son was diagnosed with cancer in 2008 and flew Home to Jesus in early 2009.  The past few years have been a "winter" season in my life and I have so longed for the return of spring.

Robins are resilient.  They sometimes build 3 nests a season.

It takes hard work to build a nest, lay eggs, wait for them to hatch, raise the young, teach them to fly then watch them fly away.  It takes amazing courage to start the whole process again.  Still that's who they are, it's what they were created to do.

Before marrying I was a nanny, living in other people's nests and doing flight training for other people's little one's. But after miscarrying twins and then watching my son fly off, I've been grieved, felt old and weary and too spent to try again.  I've been brooding, feeling bankrupt in every way...financially, emotionally, physically...not sure I have what it takes to try again.  Yet, I'm starting to believe it's who I am and what I was created to do.

We can no longer lay our own eggs.  Still, we've got our own nest, granted it needs a little cleaning and freshening before it would be ready for another little one, but we could do that.  Sometimes other birds are able to lay eggs, but unable to build a safe nest, or unable to protect their young or gather enough food to raise their young ones and teach them to fly on their own...Maybe we can help.

It's been awhile since I spread my wings, yet I still remember the joy of flight.  I long to feel the wind lift me, long to soar again and by God's grace, again teach little ones to fly...  

Now to strengthen my wings, ready the nest and pray for a good egg.