Friday, July 18, 2008

The feeling of nothing to say

Fear. I've been living in it. Afraid to compose...afraid to bare myself. Afraid that I won't have words to ever begin to capture truth. Afraid that my worth is summed up in my lack of ability to put together phrases that might inspire or cast light upon the truth God has given us.
So, basically I have nothing special to say.
But I should be honest about life. An interesting turn of events has transpired. Last we posted in the world wide web - we were planning to adopt. We had sat down and prayed together and finally decided on an adoption agency. We planned to call them on Monday. On Sunday, we found out we were pregnant. (Or actually, that I was pregnant. Ted is not pregnant, but he's a really quality guy) I didn't know how to handle it. I thought I might miscarry. I mean, we were ready to adopt...
I became ashamed as well. Here we were headed into this life-changing, exciting adventure. I felt like we really were going to live life the way God wanted us to. We were about to tangibly care for the orphan - I mean that's some serious God-following, right? We had told everyone - even people we didn't know. Why would God let this happen?
I felt humiliated. And I felt ridiculous for feeling so humiliated. (Gotta love the pits of despair we allow ourselves to drown in) While others oozed with excitement when they heard the news, I visibly didn't share the same sentiment. I couldn't wrap my heart around the fact that we'd told everyone we were going to adopt - my heart was ready to adopt. I had thought about holding that little girl, I had talked with Hannah about her sister that was out there somewhere that we were going to have soon. There was no mistaking that I wasn't excited about the change of events. And from there I piled more guilt upon myself because I wasn't thrilled.
I now sit here in my sixth month of pregnancy. We're having a boy. (I wasn't planning on having a boy, so just cycle through that pit again for me to understand where I was formerly at when I learned the news.) His name is going to be Jayden Michael. Jayden means, "God has heard" and Michael means, "Who is like our God?"
But here is where I stand today. We will still adopt. One day we will have a precious little girl (or at least that's what I think right now - but keep in mind, I've been wrong before) that we'll get to hold in our arms.
(random ADD moment - last night I watched part of Grey's Anatomy and there was a family with a little baby they had just adopted. As the dad finally really embraced her - I nearly lost it and I became even more excited for the day when we get to hold our little girl)
But God for the meantime is giving us Jayden. And that's not a let down. He is a gift and I'm really starting to cherish that gift with every swift kick to my ribs. My prayer is that his life is defined by helping his generation know that God has heard and that He cares. And truly, I can't think of anything much better. And luckily, in the midst of all this, God has taught me enough to know that when I meet this little boy, I will realize that he is incredible and I will thank God over and over for giving him to us and specifically at this time.
And one day I trust God will give us our precious little girl. The one I know He has named "Mine". (The name we've chosen is Mia which means "mine" in Italian) And maybe by then, God will have worked in my heart to not think I'm better than someone else if I adopt. Maybe by then, I won't be so immature as to think that we are so special because we're adopting. Maybe by then, I will realize that everything God does is wise and just and I won't feel ashamed when we don't seem to be as "special" and we seem more "normal" in our journey of following God. (These terms are horrendous, but it's what I've honestly thought if I'm real with myself)
So there's me. Bared. Nothing special to say. But at least I'm no longer living in fear. It wasn't a very nice master. Jesus is way better... You'd think I would have known that.

1 comment:

  1. mmmmm, been there, we were in the middle of our home study when mr. little surprise came. What this precious baby has taught me, that's it's not about me, it has forced me to be more selfless and less self focused even when I didn't want to be. It has taught me that adoption is supremely not about me, its about that child. I know what you mean about not wanting to feel normal, wanting to be unique. God doesn't give us anything we can't handle, and all my personal set backs to adopting, I think is God keeping me from something I'm not ready to handle YET. An adopted child will have enough hurdles without the added pressure of existing to making me and you feel unique. Something that really struck me hard this week, is that one of my big reasons for wanting to adopt is that I'm really not a fan of the little tiny baby phase. Some people love that, but i really love toddlers and children. Then I was reading on an adoption forum about "emotional age" and how it is much younger in orphans then real age. So I can't just adopt because I want to skip the difficult newborn phase. My adopted child will have there very own newborn phase in our home, and in many ways it will be much more difficult. That was my ouch moment this week. Thanks for sharing your heart.