Restore the Years

I feel this heavy cloud of sadness hanging over me right now.  It's like I'm in mourning and can't shake myself out of it.  It's weird though, because I'm mourning two children that I don't know.

When we first entertained the idea of adopting S&A, we thought S was 11 and A was 12.  Then we heard she was 14 and he was 16.  Then we heard no, maybe she's 13.  And then last week we find out that her official birth certificate records her age at 15 years 9 months.

I cannot stop thinking about all the years we have lost with them.  Years of memories.  Years of vacations, report cards, birthdays, holidays, milestones.  Yesterday Eva lost another tooth, and I couldn't help but wonder what it was like for S&A when they lost a tooth.  Was it exciting like it is for my kids?  Did anyone notice?  Did they throw the tooth away or save it?  I'm pretty sure there were no tooth fairy visits for them.  That makes me sad.  I'm sad that we missed out on that.

There are so many things we've missed.  What were they like as babies?  When did they learn to crawl, and who held their fingers as they took those first tentative steps?  What games did they like to play as toddlers?  Who took care of them, nurtured them, cheered them on, celebrated their successes and kissed their boo-boos?

I never in my wildest dreams thought we'd adopt a 16 and a 17 year old.  I mean come on, that is crazy.  Most people apply for babies and toddlers for this very reason --- all the years of nurturing and bonding stretch before you after the homecoming.  It might be hard at first for them to attach to you, but you have years to work that out.  I get that, and honestly, there are days that I want that too.  I'm jealous when I see pictures of adoptive families with little ones, or even older ones - 6, 7, 8 years old. Our kids' parents died when they were that age, and they moved into the orphanage shortly thereafter.  Some days I wish we could've come sooner, would've known sooner, had the chance to intercept their lives at that point instead of seven years later.

But that is my plan.  And God had other plans.  And sometimes God doesn't do what we think He should do.

A wise friend told Andy the other day, "With adoption, remember it's about the child. It's not about what's best for you.  What's best for them is loving them and giving them the opportunity for family."

Adoption is not about me, and what I want, what I think is best.  For reasons only known to Him, God has made it clear that this is the path He chose for our family.  This is what He thinks is best for us, and best for S&A.  The connections and confirmations in those early days are too numerous and too coincidental to suggest anything else.  I'm sad now, and know I need to let myself go through the mourning process. But at some point I need to pick myself up and move forward, in confidence, stepping into the obedience God has asked of us.

And the fact remains that whether these children are 6 or 16, they need a family.  They deserve to belong to someone.  To have five people who will always be there, always cheer for them, always celebrate their birthday, always comfort them when they're hurt.  And they'll always be our kids -- even when they're 40 and we're 60.  They'll always come home to us, to celebrate holidays, to bring the grandkids, to spend time with brothers and sisters.  They'll always be ours.

The prayer I've been praying lately is, "Restore the years the locusts have eaten, God."  The book of Joel in the Bible describes a terrible famine in the land of Judah, a result of a plague of locusts that devoured the crops.  Bible scholars are not sure if this is referring to actual locusts or if its symbolic imagery referring to an invading army.  Regardless, the people are devastated and broken, left with nothing, in despair.  The language is very strong --  "How the cattle moan! Even the flocks of sheep are suffering" (1:18),  "the priests are in mourning," (1:9), "the fields are ruined" (1:10), "the joy of mankind has withered away" (1:12).

But then later Joel begins prophesying about Judah's future: "The Lord will be jealous for His land and take pity on His people.  He sends you abundant autumn and spring rains, as before.  The threshing floors will be filled with grain; the vats will overflow with new wine and oil.

I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten .... and you will praise the name of the Lord your God, who has worked wonders for you."  (Joel 2:23, 25, 26)

The Lord is jealous for these kids.  He sees two children who have no other family to take care of them.  Who are months away from aging out of the orphanage and being forced to make a life for themselves on the streets -- most likely turning to crime or prostitution.   God is jealous for them.  God sets the lonely in families.  God has marked them out for the Thompson family.  We have lost so many years with them, but I'm praying that God will make up for it, in the way that only God can.

Adoption is all about the child, but it's also all about God and the story He is writing, not just for the Thompsons, but for His entire family on earth.  He is jealous for all of us.  God also operates outside of our concept of space and time.  "With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day.  The Lord is not slow in keeping His promise, as some understand slowness.  He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance." 2 Peter 3:8-9  I've been so focused on the days we've missed out on that I am forgetting the very truth of God.

Days don't matter to him. People do.  He is waiting for us. He will not return until He's given everyone a chance to belong.   He is jealous for us.  He desperately wants us in His family.  He pursues each one of us with abandon. He fights for us.  Our past doesn't matter - what matters is the present - saying yes to Him now.  And as soon as we do, He promises to restore every moment we were apart from Him.  To heal and redeem and pay us back for the years we lost.  And He has eternity to do it.

I'm sad today, but I'm trusting.  I'm remembering promises.  And I'm looking forward to that day when they will belong to us, and we to them.  That will be a day for rejoicing.  The day when we praise God for what He's done, and look forward with anticipation to all that He is going to do.

Pray Very Earnestly

***If you're new here, let me explain a few things so that you will understand this post. Our family is in the process of adopting two kids from Ethiopia.  They are siblings and have been living in an orphanage for about 6-7 years.  Their parents are both dead and they have no family members who could take care of them.  They are also teenagers. To protect them, we need to refer to them as S&A.  A is the older sibling, S is his younger sister.  We began the process in March and turned in our completed home study in June.  Then we began to work on our dossier, hoping to turn that in to Ethiopia at the end of the summer.  If everything went smoothly, we were hoping to travel to Ethiopia in early spring 2015 and have them home by late spring.***

Last week we received a very unsettling phone call.  Our agency was able to obtain S's official birth certificate, and according to her birth date, she is actually 15 years, 9 months --- we believed she was around 13 or 14 years old.  We felt shocked, sad, and fearful.  As soon as she turns 16, she (and her brother) is no longer eligible for adoption, and the U.S. will not allow us to adopt either of them. We thought we had about 2 years to get everything completed --- turns out we have a little over 2 MONTHS.  Our agency said to get everything done on our end and be ready to travel to Ethiopia this August (!!) to appear in court to become their parents.

We kicked into high gear and finished all the paperwork for our agency.  We notarized all documents that needed it.  We contacted our references and asked them to get their letters notarized.  I went to our county's circuit court and then the Secretary of State in Annapolis to get documents certified for our dossier.  In 3 days we finished our dossier. Andy called our state senator and asked him to appeal to the USCIS (United States Customs and Immigration Services) to have our paperwork expedited.  We don't have time to sit on this.  We could lose them both.

But there's one thing that could hold everything up.  One important piece of paper and one person who refused to help us get it.  Andy carefully explained our situation, explained that if we waited the full 75 days (we were told that it would take that long to process) for this one document, it would be too late and S and A would both age out of the system and we would not be able to adopt them.  The answer we received yesterday -- NO.

So Andy called and left a detailed message.  And wrote another email, explained again. And now we wait for this man to decide our fate.  It's a completely helpless feeling.  It's frustrating.  We're exhausted. We've done everything we can do and it might not be enough.

Studies show that every 2.2 seconds, another orphan ages out, becoming too old to remain in foster or orphanage care, with no family and no place to call home.  60% of girls become prostitutes and 70% of boys become criminals.  We met some of these girls during our trip in November at a ministry called Women At Risk.  This is a program to help former prostitutes get off and stay off the streets by learning English and a trade to support themselves and their children.  The women we met were open-hearted and precious, some were as young as 16, and all had been working as prostitutes just weeks  or months before we met them. I can't even let myself imagine what life would be like for S&A if this adoption doesn't happen.  I can't go there.

Some of our friends from Women At Risk

This morning I woke early and came downstairs to read my Bible as I always do.  I'm reading through Acts right now and opened to Acts 12.  Peter, one of Jesus' close friends, has been arrested by King Herod Agrippa.  The king placed him under the guard of 4 squads of 4 soldiers each.  16 armed guards for 1 man, bound in chains.  

"But while Peter was in prison, the church prayed very earnestly for him."  Acts 12:5

This verse gripped me this morning.  Peter's case looks hopeless.  Believers are being persecuted.  James was just killed.  Peter has already been arrested once before.  Stephen was stoned to death.  Herod plans to put Peter on trial after the Passover holiday.  And he's being guarded by 16 trained-to-kill Roman soldiers.

"But the church prayed very earnestly for him."

There was no way out, but they prayed.  There was very little hope, but they prayed.  They couldn't imagine a good ending to this story, but they prayed.  

And God showed up.  Quite literally.  It's hard for us to even imagine this, but an angel appeared in Peter's prison cell and told him to get up, get his shoes on, and follow him.  (I may have forgotten to mention that Peter was chained to two guards at the time.)  "And the chains fell off his wrists. So Peter left the cell, following the angel."  Acts 12:7, 9  While the guards slept.

Could the church have imagined this outcome when they were praying earnestly?  I doubt it.  I'm sure they had no idea what to expect or how God would answer, or if God would answer.  

But they prayed earnestly anyways.  

Friends, I'm asking you to pray earnestly.  I have no idea what is going to happen.  I know prayer is not a formula.  {If I pray hard enough, then God will answer the way I want Him to.}  NO.  God doesn't operate like that.  Prayer is still a mystery to me. I don't fully understand it.  But I know I'm supposed to do it, with faith, and leave the outcome to Him. 

Our case looks hopeless.  We have two months to get our paperwork to Ethiopia, have it translated, get it filed with their courts and processed, and appear before a judge there.  We have 87 days until S turns 16 and is no longer adoptable.  This one document we need takes "75 days to process."  We have everything else for our dossier.  Mr. Jose from USCIS is refusing to expedite that one document we need.  

"God presides over heaven's court; He pronounces judgment on the heavenly beings. Give justice to the poor and the orphan; uphold the rights of the oppressed and the destitute.  Rescue the poor and the helpless."  Psalm 82:1,3,4

But God rules.


As our dear friend once said, "Sometimes God just likes to flex His muscles."  We are scared, but we're choosing to trust. God, please flex your muscles.

 And by the way, we're not going down without a fight.  #prayveryearnestly