Wandering feet, hearts and minds

It's been over a year since we welcomed you into our hearts and family.  You've been well fed, showered with birthday gifts and special trips.  A few friendly pups have become your best friends as you tot around the dessert backyard, busy.  Your bleach blonde hair and dark brown eyes bring my heart a smile whenever I catch a glimpse of my phone's wallpaper. 

We go through weeks of texting grandma everyday and others with no messaging back and forth because sometimes it's too hard to let this reality come into sharp focus.  

It's a helpless feeling to love someone and not be able to help them and I know I've got to pray more.  Confidence about the conclusion persists but the wait looms like a heavy fog making it hard to see our way through, encouraging us like the enemy does, to give up hope.  

How can the system be so broken?  Why is it taking so long?  How many times per week do I need to call, email or text to check in to ensure this case doesn't get forgotten?  Why does this process keep getting paused?  How much longer would you have waited if I hadn't asked? How many children fall through these very wide cracks?    

Advocacy is a mother's first job and I am up to the task.  But I want you here and now so I can hold you and protect you and find us a path forward.  The boys are longing to meet you and you them.  Eyes wide open, the road ahead won't likely be easier than this and perhaps a new kind of fog will set in.  But at least you'll be here.  And the work will be tangible.  Tangoes with our new toddler as we develop a real relationship.  One we know you so dearly deserve.  One like you may not have known before.  

And then there's the discipleship.  It also feels like someone pressed pause.  Yearning, we've been yearning to live this deeper calling and don't understand why it's on hold.  Everything about this year has been exhausting.  As has been true through every single lesson I think I've learned as an adult, I'm reminded that I am not in control.  But it's more than that and with the compounded factors at work and in society, it's exhausting.  I am exhausted. 

The draft date on this post is nearly four weeks old now and so much but so little has changed.  Two court dates were made and our hopes soared.  One has passed as the other creeps closer and in between there's just silence. "Pending."  It's all the social worker can tell us, all she can see on your electronic file.  A four-year-old and his families hang in the balance, pending.  

At Church this weekend the closing hymn is Oceans by Hillsong, and these words hit me: 

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders
Let me walk upon the waters
Wherever You would call me
Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander
And my faith will be made stronger
In the presence of my Savior

We don't doubt this is our calling we need to go to where our trust is without borders.  It's a close your eyes and jump moment because it's where my feet would never wander on their own.  I've got a little courage, but do I have enough?  No.  It is not humility, it is true.  I'm searching for courage I do not have.  

Determination and focus, we've got plenty.  Advocacy and action come naturally.  Waiting... no thanks.  I prefer action, I want this to keep moving.  Like an ungrateful child, I cross my arms and refuse to pray, back turned with a dramatic pout.  I'm not angry or despondent like I might have been nearly six years ago.  I'm healed and whole, but starting to get a little bit bitter here.  I am trying to do a good thing.  

As we long to arrive in this next acre of the mellen patch, thanksgiving is also creeping upon us.  Days later, Ann Voskamp posts this on my Facebook feed:   

...yeah, you're so not alone: the battle's hard... but here's the secret to winning: "Stay alert, with your eyes. wide. open. in. gratitude." Colossians 4:2 MSG

No matter what's coming hard these days, the thing is:

No amount of regret changes the past,

No amount of anxiety changes the future,

And *any amount of gratitude changes the present.*

Any amount of gratitude changes the present & wins back some ground — even for one very small thing.

So that's what we're doing here today: simply being grateful for that one small thing... & one more small thing... & one more small thing -- just taking back ground one grateful step at a time till the battle is WON.

*Gratitude wins our wars.* Because gratitude isn't only a celebration when good things happen; Gratitude's a declaration that God is good *no matter what happens.* - From One Thousand Gifts

Thankfully, these blessed words turn my mood and nudge me to resolve.  

What very small thing can I be grateful for now?  Time to rest and not to rush.  I'd rather rush.  It would be more fun, exhilarating and it would give me something to do.  But that's really just not a choice right now.  I need to find a way to be content and rest.  We've been given the gift of time, not a gift that I wanted but how can I use it?  

I imagine you contentedly using your gift of time, running around the sandy backyard in the sunset.   

I believe we are drifting slowly towards the destination we seek but really, God is good no matter what happens.  He has done some work in us and it is for the good.  I know who, where and when I want that to be but the truth is, I am not in control.  

I'm thankful that in our broken system we have a system.  I'm thankful that through this broken process, you have had a family that's provided for you.  And thanks to them, we know where you are and what you're doing, befriending your mother's dog, Canuk.  We're blessed with pictures and connection.  

Grandma shares a story, you wake her up by tapping on her head, climb into bed with her and look through her phone at pictures of us, telling her, "I am going to go live with MaryEllen and Michael and Grandma is going to cry." 

You're inspiring me, already, before you even get here, with your simple joys and faith. 

We wonder what has happened with that file in that courtroom and are shaken by the silence.  Yet thankful that while we've been blinded to the progress of your case, or even our own at times, that your safety and wellbeing have been visible to us every step of the way since you entered the system.  

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders... God is good, no matter what happens.  We know this to be true.  I've cried countless tears through these words when the babies in my womb didn't make it.  And here we are today in this beaut-i-ful, yes so very full, future.

Looking back at this moment in another six years, where will we be?  

A small smile settles on my face. 

Wherever you would call me.  

Oh God, please help me to take back ground everyday, one grateful step at a time.