It is hard to stay depressed. Which is a good thing I guess. But I do need some support. I need to know that people are reading this, and hopefully lifting me up in prayer. I wouldn't mind an occasional comment in the comment section too - just a little suggestion there, for anyone who is listening (wink wink). Seriously though, prayer. Prayer is what I covet.
It seems I cry a lot lately. I pulled out the Christmas CD's. Listen to Third Day's Merry Christmas on Rhapsody and tell me it doesn't fit my situation. I think I am justified in crying with that song. As much as I am trying to move forward, I am still attached to my little Gifty, so this video made me burst into tears. She has been so sick still. I check on her often, and her adoption has still not gone through. My heart breaks, daily. Now, we have moved our adoption plan to another country, (Benin) and been given a picture of another little angel.
Everyone, this is Glwadys. She will be three in March. We are hoping to make her ours.
I didn't want to fall in love with her. After Gifty, I told myself to just do the paperwork. Just stay calm, and efficient, but disconnected. But then we got this picture. And I started to bend a little. Then, that gosh-darned Third Day song played over and over (because I had the CD on repeat play in my CD player....) and I lost my ability to stay disconnected. Now, I want her to be here. I want to buy her Christmas pajama's, and fill a stocking for her. I want to hold her so badly. So so so badly.
I knew when we started this journey that some days would be easier then others. I didn't realize that they would all be bad, but that some would be simply bad, and others would be horrible.
So, today was just one of those days. Canaan has been at my parent's house all week. He sent me a letter in the mail, and I got it today. The first letter I have ever received in the mail from my son. I know it won't be the last. Before I am ready, he will grow up, and move away. Today was just a slightly spooky glimpse of that, getting a letter from him in the mail.
Yesterday my Mormon missionary friends came by, again. They are regular visitors here. I think they have hope of converting me. I just like to feed them. They are so young, and far from their mothers. My heart breaks for them, because they are so closed to any new ideas, any possibilities of anything outside of the strict code they have been brought up with. I argue with them, in a friendly sort of way, and promise that I will read the literature they leave with me. I do my best to follow through - I respect them too much to ignore what they believe, even if I cannot accept it as truth. Yet another part of my heart to hurt - it was heavy still today from their visit yesterday.
Then, when I was at the Salvation Army, out walked this young, young girl - 23, 24 at most, with THREE young children. The oldest, who couldn't have been more than three, was wearing shorts, and was barefoot, at a store, in November. I wanted to cry. I wanted to puke. I wanted to yell at God. Why? Why does this little girl, who obviously is in way over her head have three children, when my sister, my mature, responsible, stable sister is having to work so hard to get pregnant? Why does God make things like that happen?
It took me the rest of the day, an argument with poor, unsuspecting Andy, then me crying all over him - plus a nice soothing load of laundry, before I finally stopped being miserable, and yelling at God, long enough to listen to Him. Thankfully, He is patient.
I was reminded that God doesn't make things like this happen. God made us - individual, imperfect, but in His image. We choose which way we will live. Whether we will make wise decisions or foolish ones. Whether we will close ourselves off, or give ourselves fully. Whether we will have joy or sadness, anger or forgiveness. WE CHOOSE.
And if I can be so heartbroken about the bad choices that people have made, and I am just another person, just think how heartbroken the Creator is. If I want to cry, I cannot even imagine how much He hurts for those He loves who choose, over and over, to hurt themselves. He hurts too. Every moment, of every day. He hurts for us. I know Him, love Him, have Him as my best friend. And still, I break His heart daily. And that is just me. Multiply that by billions. That is just overwhelming - and it put me in my place.
Let me close with an excerpt from my devotions this morning. (note that God was trying to warn me... too bad I didn't listen close enough)
Blessed is he that waiteth. Daniel 12:12
"It may seen an easy thing to wait, but it is one of the postures which a Christian soldier learns not without years of teaching. Marching and quick-marching are much easier to God's warriors than standing still. There are hours of perplexity when the most willing spirit anxiously desirous to serve the Lord, knows not what part to take. Then what shall it do? Vex itself by despair? Fly back in cowardice, turn to the right hand in fear, or rush forward in presumption?
No, but simply wait. Wait in Prayer, however. Call upon God and spread the case before Him; tell Him your difficulty, and plead His promise of aid.
Wait in Faith. Express your unstaggering confidence in Him. Believe that if He keeps you tarrying even till midnight, yet He will come at the right time; the vision shall come, and shall not tarry.
Wait in Quiet Patience. Never murmur against the second cause as the children of Israel did against Moses. Accept the case as it is, and put it as it stands, simply and with your whole heart, without any self-will, into the hand of your covenant God, saying, ' Now, Lord, not my will, but Thine be done. I know not what to do. I am brought to extremities; but I will wait until Thou shalt cleave the floods, or drive back my foes. I will wait, if Thou keep me many a day, for my heart is fixed upon Thee alone, O God, and my spirit waiteth for Thee in full conviction that Thou wilt yet be my joy and my salvation, my refuge and my strong tower.'" Streams in the Desert, Nov. 20th