This week, I realized that the angst of the adoption process closely resembles being in your ninth month of pregnancy.  Okay, so I only made it to my seventh month with Elliott, but I’ve observed enough pregos to get the general idea.  When a woman is in her ninth month, and it even starts sometimes in the seventh or eighth months, really well-meaning people start to make comments like, “That baby isn’t here yet?”  and “You’re STILL pregnant?” and “How much longer?” and “Have you felt anything/any contractions/any indication at all that the baby is on the way?”  I’ve been guilty of several of these statements myself.  And it’s apparent that very preggers, swollen, bloated, uncomfortable women to not appreciate these comments.  You can almost see the steam rising from their heads as they try to fight the urge to body-slam you with their big ol’ bellies.

Well, waiting for an adoption is like being in your ninth month of pregnancy…for one, two, or heaven forbid, more YEARS.  (I know, I know, without the varicose veins and cankles.)  I love that people love me and care and ASK, and I don’t want that to go away.  I really don’t.  I love that I have someone almost every day asking how it’s going.  I’m grateful to have a community of friends and family members who care.  I just wish I had something to tell everyone!  Still waiting…nothing yet…Baby Dale is still in Africa waiting to find out that we love him-slash-her.  Still no contractions, ha-ha….

So anyway, dejected, exhausted, still-waiting me dragged into church yesterday and heard exactly what I needed to hear.  I mean, EXACTLY.  If you’re waiting for something, anything at all that’s hard to wait for, visit http://www.southside.org/index.php?pr=Messages and listen to Waiting Room/In the Meantime.  Jeff talked about using GPS while you’re waiting.  GRATITUDE, PERSISTENCE, AND SURRENDER.  I’ll let you listen to the message to hear how he unpacks that.  On the way out, they gave us stickers to put where we’ll see them.  Below is where I put mine:

-Gratitude for God’s faithfulness in letting me have Elliott

-Persistence in Prayer every day

-Surrender of my sweet Ethiopian baby to God’s timing

Alex’s parents have been visiting us.  Yesterday, on their last night, we made the Columbia Restaurant’s signature salad, piled into the golf cart, picked up pizza, and met my parents over at Lake Peachtree, where we ate pizza and salad, played with Elliott at the park, and watched the sun go down over the water.  It was perfect. 

After dinner, I excitedly presented our moms with the “Love Goes Around” necklaces from JunkPosse, an early Mother’s Day since we’ll be in Africa.  As I was explaining how these necklaces help support and restore victims of sex trafficking, my sweet hubby pulls out a third white, heart-shaped box.  For me?  He gave me the JunkPosse “Heart for Africa” necklace!  Oh, how I wanted it so much.  And now, wherever I go, everyone will see how much I love Africa.  And my husband!  Happy Mother’s Day to me! 

After we all put on our new necklaces, we wandered over to the park, and as Elliott was playing, the ice cream truck pulled up.  As he slurped on his bubblegum-flavored popsicle, our parents spend time praying over us on our trip.  Wow.  I’ll never get over the incredible gift of having two sets of parents who like each other and have a common bond in Christ.  Elliott smeared blue and pink all over his mouth and peered up at us all bowing in prayer (Um, yeah, I peeked.).  I love that he has a mom, dad, two grandmothers, and two grandfathers who all pray together!  Our sweet moms are going to call each other each morning at 6:30am to pray for us while we’re on the trip.  Grateful.

I’m so excited for Slash to come into this family!  People keep asking, “Have you heard anything?”  “It’s getting close, isn’t it?”  No and no.  It’s discouraging, but this morning God reminded me that Slash will become part of our family at the perfect time, God’s time.  Waiting is full of all kinds of argh, but God has a lot for me to do while I wait. 

While I wait, I get to dress up in funny costumes with Elliott and march around banging on drums.

While I wait, I need to kiss the top of Elliott’s head about 150 times a day.

While I wait, I have about 300 orphans to hug in Uganda.

While I wait, I have about 260 orphans for whom to find sponsors.

While I wait, I want to get deeper into Scripture and fall more and more in love with Him.

While I wait, I get to graduate up to high school with my big 8th graders.

While I wait, I need to help abolish the sex trade.

While I wait, I need to see Adecar’s kitchen built and work on the next steps of the community development plan.

While I wait, I get to help my church embrace Africa and orphans.

While I wait, I have blogs to write and friends to encourage and brand-new high school girls to text and a husband to kiss and a 3-year-old with whom to work in the garden.  I have sweet tea to brew and bread to bake and loads of cuddling to do with Spike the dog.  So, I’m thinking maybe a healthy mix of saving the world, time with family, and nervous breakdowns at the feet of God.

I’ve had something pressing on me for awhile now, and today I’m finally releasing it a bit.  Poof!  Relief.  It feels good.  I feel the weight of the orphans in Adecar, but as of…wait for it…right…NOW…I no longer feel this bizarre pressure to perform the role of miracle worker.  I can’t.  Advocating for orphans is hard.  It’s slow.  Sometimes I feel like a freak for caring.  An ineffective freak.  But my job is to put one foot in front of the other, tackle this monumental task one orphan at a time, and leave the freakin’ results up to God.  Just like I can’t make people believe in Christ, but can only share my story and His love and truth and leave the results to Him, I also cannot make people sponsor orphans.  I can share my heart for orphans, provide information about their plight, describe their living conditions, implore people to get involved, but I can’t write checks for other people.  And you know what?  I’m okay with that.  There is such freedom in knowing that God changes hearts and spurs His people to action.  If not for God, I wouldn’t be sitting here writing this blog.  If not for God, I wouldn’t have a filing cabinet full of orphan profiles.  If not for God, I wouldn’t give a crap about orphans.  And the second, the SECOND I start thinking that I have any kind of power to move hearts or that any of my actions are because of my own goodness, I fall prey to the lie of performance.  If my life is about performance, then I’m either performing so that one group of people will see how incredible I am at helping orphans or I’m performing so that an entirely different group of people will see how normal I am and how well I fit in to mainstream American culture.  If my life is about performance, I can’t win.  God is the true winner, the true doer, and my life is just an offering poured out for His glory. 

So, pour me out, God!  Let me be a part of Your redemptive plan for these kids and for my community.  I just want to work, and I’ll leave EVERYTHING up to You.  For You, by You, because of You.  Wheee!  That’s freedom.

I’ve been a terrible blogger lately.  I have so much going on in my head and I can’t figure out what, if anything, to write about.  One huge theme right now is God very clearly reminding me that I don’t need to try to make Him attractive to people.  He doesn’t need an advance team.  He doesn’t need me to pull out my very best “relevant Christian” act.  He’s God!  He draws people to Himself because He is love and He is what we need.  I cannot make Him look cool.

You know those families with all the good kids that love the Lord?  You know, the families where everyone goes, “What are they doing right and how do I learn how to do that, too?”  Recently I visited one of those families.  Elliott’s babysitter, an incredible girl who loves the Lord with her whole heart, was in a terrible golf carting accident that nearly took her life.  We went over to visit with her.  Elliott and I pulled up to her curb in our golf cart.  We saw high school guys and girls playing soccer on the front lawn.  More kids hanging out in front of the garage.  We walked inside, more teenagers.  Our sweet babysitter was lying on the couch talking with more friends.  Everywhere I looked, I saw Bible verses.  Her dad immediately started playing with Elliott and showing him all the musical instruments in the house.  As I spoke with our sitter, I heard the piano, the drum set, and a guitar, all playing worship music.  I found Elliott sitting at the drum set, having the time of his life, and the dad taking pictures of him telling me how gifted my son is.  The mom walked over to me and just breathed life into me about Elliott’s speech delays, and shared her wisdom on decisions about preschool.  These parents had almost lost one of their children the day before, yet they took the time to encourage me, a young mom, and show my son attention and love.  I was blown away.  They were so present in that home.  Not on the phone.  Not working around the house.  They were present and invested in the young lives around them.  They have so much love for Christ that it spilled out onto the kids in the house.  I didn’t want to leave.  I felt so accepted and…full of joy.  No one was watching TV.  No one was playing video games.  They don’t have a fancy house filled with the latest gadgetry.  Their home is filled with the love of Christ and relationships.

So often I’ve fallen for the lie that we as parents need to create an exciting house that will lure kids to want to hang out in it.  And the lie that we as student ministry leaders need to create an over-the-top, mind-blowing experience to lure kids to love Christ.  Movies, gaming systems, prizes, me out of the way enough so as not to scare them off.  I’m not buying it anymore.  Literally, I’m not BUYING it.  No more buying things in order to sell Christ.  I think if we can work on loving Christ and really digging into Him, soaking up His love for us, then His love will exude out of us and THAT will make us attractive to our kids and their friends. 

I found further confirmation for this realization over the weekend at a retreat with my 8th grade girls.  On Saturday night, we took turns going around the circle and telling each other what we love about each other.  It was one of the girls’ ideas.  I thought, sure, this’ll be a fun little half-hour exercise.  It took us 2-3 hours.  We didn’t finish till after 1am.  There we were, sitting in someone’s gorgeous home theater with a screen the size of the whole wall, and it wasn’t on.  No one was texting.  We just sat and spoke love to one another.  We laughed hysterically and we cried with overwhelming joy.  And when it was my turn, I had the privilege of hearing what I was doing right – being myself, loving them, glowing when I see them…you get the idea.  Relationships.  Not stuff.  Such a good lesson.  I’m learning it as a youth leader and as a parent, and I hope as Elliott gets older that I get it right.  I certainly have some good role models.

My very favorite thing as a parent is when tired little Elliott crawls into my lap and lets me rock him.  He grabs a blanket, snuggles into my lap, and lets me stroke his hair as he falls in and out of sleep.  It’s such a gift when my little boy chooses me, chooses to seek me out for comfort and rest.  I want it to last forever.  I’m afraid to move for fear it’ll all go away and he’ll move on to something more exciting.

Lately I’ve been crawling into my Father’s lap in the afternoon while Elliott is taking his nap.  I grab my favorite fuzzy blanket and lay on the couch.  I read the Bible or some of Francis Chan’s Crazy Love and just listen to my Daddy, my Abba.  I pour out my fears, tell Him about the big decisions and issues I have, thank Him for loving me.  I usually fall in and out of sleep.  I used to feel guilty about sleep-praying, but I see it differently now.  Have I ever gotten mad at Elliott for falling asleep in my arms?  Have I ever been hurt by his inability to keep his eyes open when I’m holding him?  Nope.  Not once.  I love every sleepy moment with my son. 

How much more does God love me?  I think when I choose to get up from my computer, walk out of my kitchen, put down my cell phone, and crawl into His lap…I think He loves every moment, sleeping and awake.  I come out of that time with Him refreshed, restored, and reminded of His deep, deep love for me, love that’s somehow even greater than the love I feel for Elliott.

A nap in God’s lap.  A lap nap.  Go grab your Bible and try one the next time life feels really overwhelming.