The dichotomy of the wait

Yes, even I am impressed that at this point in motherhood I can still use the occasional "big" word.

I've been thinking about this alot the last week or so.

Part of it has been spurred by some situations that has caused and required alot of reflection and conversation.

Part of it comes from the timing of our wait.

November 14 marks three years since we started this adoption officially by sending in our pre application to our agency.

I'm not a big "anniversary" person with these sort of things.

Yes, those days have been moments I've stopped and pondered, sometimes in disbelief at how long it really has been.  Sometimes I even forget.  But the days themselves haven't hit so hard.  I almost find the season right before them is the hardest as if somewhere internally, my heart knows before my head.

Maybe that is where we are at.

But the reason I even find reason to note the length (as I'm not just looking for sympathy) is something that has been traveling around my mind and heart.

If I'm being honest . . .in some ways the wait has become comfortable.

Yes, that is the dichotomy of which I speak.

The wait . . .the very thing I in so many ways pray against, away and for  .. .has become comfortable.

Please don't misinterpret that as easy.

Please don't misinterpret that as me not longing in every way for our child.

Please don't misinterpret that I don't pray every day for a phone call that brings our wait to an end.

Just the other week I wrote a long email to our case worker that was simply a mess of emotions and unanswerable questions that I typed through my tears.

But comfortable in the sense that if we would feel God moving us to different actions, feelings of anxiety start bubbling up within as direct reflection of the fact that right now, I know where we are at and where we are going in the bigger sense.

Comfortable in that as unpredictable our life is . . . I know (sort of :) ) how to handle the emotions of it and what to expect.

I know the ebs and flows of my heart, the pangs that hit unexpectedly, and the tears that come from nowhere as you watch your little girls love on others' littles and think what incredible big sisters they will be and how ready they are.

Because I've learned how to let those tears come because it is something to grieve.

I've learned the truths I need to go back to.

I've learned when I have to start serving outside of myself or risk becoming only about myself.

I've learned when my irrational emotions or too short responses have more to do with a hurting heart than the situation at hand and I need to speak grace and space in the moment as I move on in my day.

I still don't always handle it all well.

But it is familiar.

Waiting is like that, isn't it?

There is something you long for, ache for and pray for.  There is something you know God has called you to and for.  There is something you know you are moving towards and every part of you can't wait for the moment God brings it to fruition.

Yet after so long, it become "comfortable" and to move forward, becomes the hard.

Last year in BSF we studied the book of Genesis.  There I saw waiting far beyond what I have even tasted.

It's easy to see Abraham and Sarah losing sight of God's call and promise on their life.  Easy to identify where they grab for control and where the every day demands, pressures and culture seeps in and they are pressing more into the present than towards where they have been called.

The past week or two, God has been whispering that they are me.

That I have gotten comfortable with the now.

That I have maybe forgotten my prayers (or desire) to be stretched.

Because part of me says I want to leave it all in His hands to produce any action and just keep living life.

I don't want to have to keep stepping out in faith, I don't want to taste more unfamiliar and I'd prefer to just deal with the "stresses," responsibilities and circumstances that demand me right now and the face the unknown that stepping forward in faith can hold.

At this point in the wait, it feels comfortable to say it is out of my hands.

So I've been sitting with these thoughts, asking God what it is He is asking.

I'm still not quite sure of the answers really.  Don't have it quite figured out.

But I am feeling stirrings of them within.

I think He is asking me to press into Him again.  To not go auto pilot in this wait to avoid the emotions or angst it holds.

I think He is asking me to trust Him again if He asks for more.

I think He is asking me to rejoice over what I do not see and what He may doing in the lives of others.

I think He is asking me to trust Him for the ending that may not be what I had hoped or imagine and at the same time to trust He can do abundantly more than I ask or imagine.

Some days the latter is the harder part.

So yes, the dichotomy of the wait: a division or contrast between two things that are or are represented as being opposed or entirely different.

And it is that jumble of thoughts that I interrupt however many weeks (or months) of silence for.  Until the next time . . .