A Poem

My sweet sister Rachel (and best friend!) gave me a poem the other day that she had written for us. She has been a constant on our adoption journey, praying for us and Lilia. She is always coming alongside to listen and hope, and of course, be an amazing auntie to Emma who has needed extra special love lately. The poem brought tears to my eyes because she (as artists do) put my emotions and thoughts into a beautiful structure that expresses how I am feeling far better than mere words ever could. Here it is:



To Katie, In Waiting



This placental love that spans an ocean

in defiance of science

With careful ear can hear

the echo of your heartbeat in the

thrumming rain of Africa

in the child who has become your flesh

and wears the skin of your love.

And God who flung the stars into space

will reverse the plate techtonics

that drove these continents apart.

The umbilical cord shortens

The distant pulse dawns louder with each sunrise

as faith shrinks an ocean to a puddle

and stepping stones emerge above the waves

to lead you to the day

when eyes shall meet eyes

fingers to fingers

and you cradle your Heart once more

upon your chest.

No News

"Any news with your adoption?"

I hear this question a lot. Let me preface by saying that it means so much to our family to have friends who ask us how the adoption is going, how Lilia is, and how we are holding up. We are so thankful not to walk through this alone, but with dear friends and family, who encourage and support us. But I get tired of the answer I have to give again and again, "No, no news." This has been such a difficult ride for Brendan, Emma, and I. It has been so beautiful and encouraging to see how our hearts have expanded towards Lilia, and we love her as much as if she were already with us. She is the family member we pray for at every meal and bedtime. She is the missing link, the completing piece to the puzzle of our family that is missing. We won't be whole until she comes home.

There have been so many prayers, hours and hours of prayers, and many friends and family who have joined us in praying for Lilia to come home. Waiting, hoping, and praying. Yesterday, as I spent time with God, I again began to plead and cry out for our little girl to come home. She has been really sick over the past few weeks with pneumonia (is much better now) and we have been so heartsick that we can't be with her. I was reading Isaiah 55 and verses 8&9 were practically in bold as a read them: "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts." For me, this is the crux of the matter- I honestly can see no good that comes from this time of increased separation. Lilia has been without a family from day 1, and to make her go a week, day, or hour longer without a loving family when she has one seems cruel of God. BUT- His thoughts are not my thoughts nor His ways my ways. Brendan and I have chosen to cling to the promise that God will work all things together for the good of those who love Him- even when we cannot see any good coming from it. We may never know what the good is, but we know, because we know Him, that He is working for the good. I still can see no reason to be separated from my daughter, but today, in faith, we trust Him. It is not easy, in fact, it is a moment by moment, breath by breath choice and we don't do it perfectly, but we falteringly, stumble into His arms and choose faith. And remember that He loves Lilia far beyond what our frail humans hearts ever could and He is rescuing her and working good in her life.

I'll leave you all with some of my favorite pictures from the past few weeks. PS- You can expect another post once we have travel plans.

(Special thanks to Audrey Ferrel and Jen Boardman who delivered care packages to Lilia and took some awesome pictures of our little lady for us!)