All around me dear friends are dwelling in seasons of waiting. We are all waiting for different things but the familiar ache is the same. The hard thing with waiting is that you find yourself out of your control, finding that you just have to be. So how do we wait well? We long to fill a tiny bed down the hall with a orphan, we are waiting for the next step to take or we are longing to fill a halfway empty bed, yearning for what we don’t have.
This past month I have experienced a longing fulfilled for 9 months. Our home ached for our Little One, the days dragged on and the quiet of night brought tears. Today that ache is fulfilled, we have the joy of doing life once more with her. We are getting to know each other again, some things are new, exciting and different. While other quirks are soul satisfying, good like a favorite pair of jeans.
The day I stepped into that foster care informational meeting I had no idea the trajectory I would find myself on. You see way back at the beginning I was not supposed to be in the classes I ended up in, the ones that got me done and licensed by May. In June, my crew was uprooted yet again and we met in a beautiful collision. Today we are gearing up to celebrate one year together.
We waited for our hearing the one that said we could step into life together, forever. We longed for that story. We fought for that conclusion. Yet in the midst of waiting we found peace. We found peace in the goodbyes, the visits and red tape, we learned to utter, “even so, it is well with my soul.”
The season of waiting prepares us for the long awaited arrival. As the child in the back asks are we there yet, we long to find what we have been seeking. I suppose the longer we wait the more in theory we appreciate what was received. I long for the wait to be over, I long for the beds to be full and names to change. I long for the answers, the map and the dates to all be squared away. Always joking if only I could get a fortune cookie with answers, all would be fine.
What would we lose if we shut down the longing and ache? I wonder what would be the trade off for silencing that portion of our heart. Longing and aching reminds me I am alive, that I am doing something that matters and that I am loving well. The risk to find ourselves in a season of waiting is great, the ache is real. Yet without that where would we find our courage to keep moving? Would we find peace and choose to dwell in the mundane?
Ache and long well my friend, may we always find that thing that keeps us going. May we see beyond the ashes to the hope of things to come, to the beauty. As the forest flourishes after the fire, we find that the green sprigs of life provide for us the hope that it is not over. In fact it is only just beginning, hope is rising.
I would not of picked the long, hard path if given the choice. The choice to say goodbye twice to Little One, the long road and ache of adoption would not be what I would want. Yet now a little further down the road I see the purpose in it, saying goodbye twice makes hello so lovely. The celebrations are bigger and the joy is great!
I suppose if I knew what all would have been on this road it is quite possible I would have gone another route. Yet then who would I be? I am thankful I didn’t know for our story is beautiful messy and as I watch it unfold I am in awe.