With all this seemingly endless waiting discouragement has a way of creeping in when I least expect it. Today, it found its way into my heart through some used clothes.
Cleaning out the kid’s clothes is a yearly chore I dread. It seems to come up so fast! Before I know it, another year has gone by and the revolting prospect of cleaning out closets is again nagging at me. As I sort through the boy’s clothes, I see stains, holes, wrinkles, and maybe a few forgotten shirts that still have tags stuffed in the back of the closet. There are the usual moans and groans when they are made to try on pants and shirts to see what still fits and what is to be discarded. There are the negotiations and pleading when a favorite shirt is so worn out that it is declared fit for nothing but a rag. Half way through, I am tempted to take an overdose on Niquil and go to bed. My strategy to combat this is to empty the contents of their closet on my bed. Thus, the project must be finished that day. What a relief when it’s done!! Though I did find that JC snuck a sweatshirt declared “too small” for him back into his closet after all was said and done. He said “Grandma bought if for me and I had to rescue it from the horrible fate of going to the Good Will!” So, I pick my battles and chose not to die on that hill. At least not this year anyway.
Today however, the task of cleaning out *W*s clothes was very discouraging for me. She didn’t have too many clothes. Most of the clothes we had for her were given to us, or were purchased at garage sales. What she did have was special to me though. She outgrew an entire size of clothes and she wasn’t even here to wear them. I was trying to feel detached from this chore, like it didn’t matter. After all, they are just clothes. Nothing super special about them, but packing them up made me feel sick inside. It made me feel hopeless and very frustrated. It made me feel like I’m playing house. Am I waiting for a child who is never going to come. As I was sorting through the current size clothes and hanging them up I was wondering if next year I’d find myself doing this very same thing again. Did I have what it takes to withstand that long of a wait?
I get so tired of answering the questions about why she isn’t here and what is taking so long. Then there are the insinuation that we (meaning me) might be the problem. Despite what everyone says, deep down inside I know they wonder about my vision being the issue that is holding things up. No matter how oftern I say that it’s not just us, I’m not sure that really sinks in.
I’m really angry at Thailand for holding up this process and being lazy and not working hard to help get these kids adopted as quickly as possible. I’m frustrated with our agency for not advocating as much as I think they should on our behalf. I’m also feeling abandoned by God right now. I know it’s me. I’ve really slacked off on praying about the adoption because I’ve tried to protect myself from any more pain. I’ve questioned everything we thought we heard from God going into this whole process. Did we misunderstand? Were we wrong? In our eagerness to do what we thought was a great thing for God, did we miss Him altogether?
I wish I could think of something clever and cheery to say to end this post, but it’s not in me tonight. I have a very heavy heart, and that’s where it’s going to have to stay for now.
