Joy + Sorrow
Our excitement is magnified and oddly our sorrow is too. We cannot adequately express our joy in knowing who our daughter is. This long-fought and hard battle has had so many peaks and valleys, but nothing could prepare us for the moment we knew she would be ours. More on this in a future post.
I think most everyone can understand our joy. We will have a daughter! A daughter. That part still feels foreign to me. We have seen her face and watched her videos. We have poured over her in prayer and with great gratitude towards God. Our little boys talk and dream about her. Our littlest boy, always wondering if maybe she's the one ringing our doorbell.
But our sorrow (and urgency) has grown too. We're no longer only touched by the darkness and sadness and brokenness around us on a large scale. We are no longer only burdened by statistics and others' stories. Our daughter is broken, our daughter has incredible need, our daughter is in darkness. It it is so personal that our hearts ache.
I am awkwardly learning to lament what is broken, pray my anxieties and desperate pleas to the One who truly is near to her and holds all things. I am learning what it means to count the cost, to be prepared for how hard this really may be, while imperfectly clinging to the One who I want to always be my greatest treasure, Jesus. I am more regularly leaning into the truths that this world is not our home, this life is not about my comfort and God is up to more than I will ever know on this side of eternity.
The sadness of our daughter's current life, the fears surrounding her possible needs and all of the unknown feel really heavy at times, but we keep pushing forward, with our eyes fixed on Jesus, counting all of the hardships and sufferings of this process incomparable to the blessing of making her ours.
“Adoption is the Gospel in my living room.” This quote has stuck with me since I first heard it during Kai’s adoption. This time around, I am so much more aware of this expression of the Gospel. Spiritually, I was like our daughter, helpless, hopeless, stuck in the dark, unaware of my need. God saw me in my need, moved towards me in His goodness and grace and love through Jesus Christ. Jesus, who endured every kind of suffering and temptation, yet knew no sin, took on death that belonged to me and gave up everything to make a way of salvation for me. How unworthy I am. How worthy He is. How good and gracious He is to allow us to live this picture of the Gospel, reminding us of where He has brought us from and where He is bringing us to.
He is calling us near-- in seasons of joy-- in seasons of sorrow-- and when they both overwhelm us together.