The unknowns. The uncertainties. It’s not their fault. At all. And just because their names are tossing around and hearing dates are prolonged and obscure, doesn’t mean they can’t feel a sense of permanency here and now. But even knowing that, this was not an easy move for us— Creating a more permanent space that has their little personalities splashed throughout. Because, what if they don’t stay? What if we did it all for nothing? What if this personalized space is left empty at the end? Then, for the two hundred twenty-seventh time, I rein my wild emotions back in and breathe.
We had two important hearings last month that answered basically no question. The only thing answered was that they get to stay for at least six more months. So, that same week, I pulled the trigger. I looked at My Philip and said, “Let’s move forward.” I ordered matching twin beds, bought some dino-inspired decor, and set up their new bedding.
To many it may sound presumptuous. To us, it sounds more like freedom. More like living out our lives, business as usual, as we wait. Also, their faces. I wish I would have recorded their little faces that night as they bounced around their new “dinashaw woom.” That was all I needed to be okay for the next six months. It’s their space, filled with their toys, shoes, and mix-matched pjs. And just like you and I have a place to call our own, I decided they should have one too.
This whole process has stretched me in ways I cannot explain. It has made me wonder about how deeply I trust Him. There are days that I am soaring with my trust wings on nice and tight. But then, there are moments I cave. It reminds me of a story I read about fifteen years ago that left me dumbfounded then... and has stayed with me ever since. Read it real fast.
17 Then one of the crowd answered and said,"Teacher, I brought You my son, who has a mute spirit. 18 And wherever it seizes him, it throws him down; he foams at the mouth, gnashes his teeth, and becomes rigid. So I spoke to Your disciples, that they should cast it out, but they could not." 19 He answered him and said, "O faithless generation, how long shall I be with you? How long shall I bear with you? Bring him to Me." 20 Then they brought him to Him. And when he saw Him, immediately the spirit convulsed him, and he fell on the ground and wallowed, foaming at the mouth. 21 So He asked his father, "How long has this been happening to him?" And he said, "From childhood. 22 And often he has thrown him both into the fire and into the water to destroy him. But if You can do anything, have compassion on us and help us." 23 Jesus said to him, "If you can believe, all things are possible to him who believes." 24 Immediately the father of the child cried out and said with tears, "Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!"
Lord, I believe; help my unbelief! Whoa. What an oxymoron! I am constantly going before the Father telling Him, "I trust you. Help me trust you." It sounds very Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde-ish, but it's real. I don't have the answer to this one yet. But I hope this can help a friend feel the rawness of it all and still know He is good. His goodness follows you. And His mercy endures forever. Especially in the waiting.