"And those who know your name put their trust in you, for you,
O Lord, have not forsaken those who seek you."
And so begins the overflow of my heart from this long, deep, grief filled summer. Summer had its own beauty this year. Different, difficult, joyful, grief-filled beauty. One of processing our adoption, their homecoming, our past miscarriages and Thao's death. The joy in our pregnancy and hearing a strong heartbeat. The chasing home. The following is my overflow of heart, the deep hurt and questions, the beginning...
"...for you, O Lord, have not forsaken those who seek you."
But what about when we feel forsaken? When it seems as though we get no answer? or it just hurts so bad? or the answer is no? or it just costs so very much?
Our kids came home...
He didn't let them die. He brought them home. He let them be found.
But why did it cost so much? Emotionally, physically, financially. Why didn't God just move the mountains? change the hearts? show more mercy? He is able.
But if we go there, then we must also go to the place of asking. Why did they need us in the first place? Why were they abandoned? Left hungry? Sick and alone? Why did they lose people they loved? Why is the country as a whole, hungry and disease rampant?
Why did Thao die, with the best available care, leaving behind a loving family? and orphans, same sick, let live to be alone? why must is be so difficult to adopt a child in need? to feed the hungry? to nurture the wounded soul?
The need, so prevalent, the desire so strong. The willing heart is found, right here inside me. Then red tape and written or unwritten laws, brick walls, mountains, cold hearts. Nothing seems fair in life or death.
How then can we lean? How then can we trust? Work together for good? what good? whose good?
here on earth. is not enough.
here on earth, not truly healed or redeemed.
redemption, healing, is still so broken and scary. and dark and deep. and unknown.
Yet we see glimpses of glory, right here on earth. Glimpses of glory in this broken redemption, in this holy healing. Because we choose to. Because the Lord allows.
But why see it now, when before was too dark to see? The foggy, hazy, dark, deep grief, and questions, unclear?
Why now is it deep grief?
Why now, do I see how to choose this holy joy?
Why now, do I see?
He has unblinded my eyes. I can see.
Do we trust him? completely? wholly? his timing? his love? his sovereignty? his grace? his mercy?
When I look up into the sky...when I see glimpses of Glory. I see with unblinded eyes, the Lord in his greatness, the vast unknown, the smalless of myself...and I have nothing left but to trust.
To trust in the One who loves, who calls me his child, his beloved. The One who created breath. The One who sustains life and surrounds us in beauty. Because of love.
This is the journey
resting as the beloved
because here, I am home.