One of the most commonly quoted Bible passages among the adoptive community seems to be Psalm 68:5-6A: “A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling. God sets the lonely in families….” I’ve always loved these words, but lately I’ve discovered their truth on an even deeper level.
When we bid farewell to our dossier last October, I remember thinking, “Whew! The paperwork chaos is over, now we just have to wait.” A friend had told me that the waiting would be the hardest part of adopting, and in my head I thought believed her. But as is always the case, only time and experience could prove just how right she’d been.
Last Wednesday we crossed mile marker 15. Fifteen months since we applied to adopt from Rwanda. Last weekend was also the eight-month anniversary of our dossier arriving in Kigali. There’s still no end in sight. A few hopeful rumors here and there, but mostly what we hear is silence.
When I pray for our child, for our adoption, for my adoptive friends, I can’t find words. I used them up months ago. So instead of saying anything I mentally climb into Jesus’ lap and cry for a while. I know he hears my heart. He hears and he cares. And although I didn’t see it until recently, I know he’s responding.
“God sets the lonely in families…”
I used to hear that verse and think of orphans and widows. Now I realize that I’m the lonely one. There are days when the waiting consumes me. Thoughts of my child, questions without answers, yearning that can’t be satisfied…these things tempt me to sink into myself. I crave isolation, and desperately need to avoid it.
God knows this. It’s what he hears in my heart when I cry. So in His faithfulness He has set me in a family… a waiting family. It stretches across the country. Georgia, Alaska, Texas, Virginia, California, Pennsylvania, Maryland, Tennessee, Colorado… Together, we wait for our children. Together, we ask the same questions that don’t have answers. Together, we yearn for the same things and struggle with our inability to act.
I don’t know what I would do without these other waiting moms, and those who have endured the silence to finally feel the sweet weight of reality the first time they held their children.
If you’re one of these, I hope you know how precious you are to me. How thankful I am that God has set me in your family. And I hope you know how jubilant my rejoicing will be when each of you finally hear the news we’re all craving.
I cannot think of a trial or a pain
He did not recycle to bring me gain
I cannot think of a single regret
In serving Him only, and trusting His hand…
God has been faithful, He will be again…
All we have need of, His hand will provide
He’s always been faithful to me