Ugh, waiting stinks.  Some days I’m fine and other days I’m ready to crawl up a wall or under a blanket with a fluffy pillow to squeeze.  I’m having a hard time focusing right now, so I’m making a list of everything that I have to look forward to in the next couple of months.  This will likely be very boring for everyone else but me.

1. Trip to Memphis to meet Lindsey and Le, Ruta, and Alazar.  So slobbering excited about that.  We’re doing the Mojo Music Bus Tour and staying right on Beale Street.  I love the blues, and I loooovvve Lindsey and fam, who I feel like are our counterparts in Oklahoma City.  Can’t wait to talk sponsorship coordinators, Uganda, Ethiopia, adoption, and do some major laughing and celebrating, all while listening to killer music and eating barbeque.

2. The final batch of Adacar profiles should arrive any day now.  I keep checking the mail to see if they’ve come.  I’m just really excited to get all the kids sponsored.  Right now I have a ton of people to follow up with, but slowly I’m seeing my database of kids be filled with sponsors’ names.  Still a lot of blank ones, but people are slowly getting their payments set up.  And we’re making progress on the CarePoint.  More about that when I have concrete info.

3. HopeChest’s partner conference followed by the Together for Adoption conference.  I’m so excited to have quality face-to-face and hugging time with the Warrior Girls and to get to see Joseph (Uganda country director) again.  And to meet more and more and more adoptive parents.  Honestly, I’m meeting so many adoptive parents these days that it almost seems weird to me when I meet a family with all biological kids.  “Like, really?  You made all of these and they all look like you?  Weird!”  Ha!

4. Back to school!  I know, it’s cruel and unusual for me to look forward to that, but I abhor summer and all things shorts and sweating.  I love getting all my high school girls back on a regular basis, cooler weather, layering clothing, and being able to take Elliott to the park without getting a third degree burn.  Fall frolicking is around the corner, and as the leaves die, I start to live.  And one of my favorite things in fall is Vertical Reality, the fall retreat with the high school students.  I can’t wait to spend a whole weekend away with them.  We’ll have so much to talk about, starting high school and all.  I wouldn’t repeat that for a million dollars, but I love walking this road with them.

5. A referral?  Fall should mean we get to “meet” our little one, at least on paper.  I’m so excited to find out boy or girl, and hopefully that knowledge will give me lots to dream of and work on through the winter until we finally get to go.  In the meantime, I am happy to report that we’ve found a delicious Ethiopian restaurant in Atlanta (Thank you, Beattys!!), and I’ll be making lots of trips there to soak up the culture and shovel in the food.  As some of you know, Alex and I tried Ethiopian food years ago in Georgetown and it was terrible!  I love almost every kind of food on the planet, so I’ve just been sick about it (both literally for 24 hours after and figuratively).  I’ve been praying for God to allow me to love it, because both Ethiopia and food are such huge parts of my family.  Anyway, one bite at Queen of Sheba last week and we realized that Ethiopian food is DELICIOUS!  Our first experience in Georgetown must’ve just been BAD Ethiopian food, just like I’ve had bad American food.  Queen of Sheba was good, good, good, oh so good, and Elliott adored it, too, rising on his knees over the big family-style plate and scooping up the food with injera.

Okay, that’s enough anticipation for one post.  And just typing it all out has elevated me from my waiting funk and reminded me of what’s to come.  I also want to balance all the things to come with the things of NOW, because I don’t want to live in the future.  The now is good and is not to be wasted.  The now is digging into God, spending time with friends, kissing my husband, building really tall Lego towers with Elliott, helping unite sponsors with kids in Adacar, wearing my cute Sseko sandals (maybe the one benefit of summer weather in Georgia), and spending precious minutes with my parents.  Two of my close friends lost their parents last week, and I’m reminded that life is fleeting, there are no guarantees, and I want to enjoy every minute.  So, this post is kind of rambly, but I think I just blogged myself into a really hopeful and positive mood.

Wow, we keep asking for money and God keeps stepping up to provide.  It’s like He owns a limitless amount and is just waiting for us to ask…hmm….  So, the rescue in India is totally funded, including aftercare for 10 girls and the salary for a counselor to work with them for an entire year.  God continues to blow my mind with how He spurs His followers to deep generosity.  People are getting that the money isn’t theirs to begin with! 

So, since we keep asking and God keeps providing, we’re going to ask again!  HopeChest’s partner in India has a whole list of rescue missions and is just waiting for the funds.  Today God brought in enough for these ten girls, plus enough to get started on the next rescue on the list.  Yay!  HopeChest was planning on running the fundraiser through Monday, so we’re going to continue raising money and seeing just how many rescue missions we can fund!  Wouldn’t it be incredible if we set out to fund one rescue for 10 girls and end up funding 2?  Or 3? 

People are getting really creative with ideas for raising money to fund rescues.  If you think about it, it’s your chance to live in an action thriller movie.  These courageous, highly skilled Indian agents are doing reconaissance, nailing corrupt officials, raiding brothels, and saving innocent little girls and boys under cover of darkness.  We pay $10 to watch movies with that kind of action.  We read gripping novels in our beach chairs about these kind of covert activities.  Now we can join in the excitement!  By writing a check, having a garage sale, auctioning some items on eBay, or holding a fundraiser, we can fund covert missions for God!  I love a good thriller, so I’m in!  One of my friends is raffling off a Coach purse.  A pretty, pink, Coach purse for the lives of some little girls.  Duh, no brainer, and so very cool and creative.  If you want to pay $20 for a chance to win the purse and save a child, visit her website here.  If you want to help fund a covert mission, click here.

I lack the kung fu and numchucks skills to BE a covert operative and raid brothels in the name of God.  I’m not even sure if I spelled “numchucks” right.  The only reason I’ve even heard of those things is because of my deep love of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and Michaelangelo in particular.  But I CAN serve God by finding Michaelangelo some money for his numbchucks.  Nutchunks?  I am a not-so-covert operative – I am an OVERT operative for God, boldly flapping my lips and waving wildly at people to flag down some money so the truly sneaky people can get these precious ones to safety.  Join me?

This blog post is ripped right off of HopeChest CEO Tom Davis’ blog.  This is really going on in our world right now as we drink our mochas and swim with our kids. 

Please read in Tom’s words:

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

Oh Slash, every day some wonderful person asks me if we’ll get you soon.  And I have nothing new to say!  I’m feeling like a momma hamster on a wheel, running faster and faster to get to my baby hamster and gaining no ground.  But I can’t quit running.  It feels worse to sit and wait than to run and wait.  And so I run.  They should hook my hamster wheel up to a generator so at least I can produce enough energy to power a lightbulb while I run.  I’m playing this game where I try not to think about you and in the trying, I think about you.  And then I try TO think about you, and I can’t think about you because you’re not here yet and it’s not time and I go a little crazy thinking about your life right now.  Argh.  Hug.  This afternoon my other baby, Elliott the big boy, fell asleep in my arms while I was booking a trip to an adoption conference.  I love that boy so much.  Can’t wait for you guys to meet.  I’m trying to ease him in slowly to the idea of sharing his toys.  We talk about you all the time.  Now he thinks you’re a brother.  Hmm…that’s 2-2, Elliott and Mommy vs. Daddy and Mommy’s BFF.  Boy or girl, boy or girl….  I’m really looking forward to this conference…and I’m also scared that my heart will hurt too much being around a ton of people who have already adopted.  I think it’ll be equal parts comforting and maddening…so that leaves me…excited.  Yeah, I’m a masochist. 

Hang in there, Boy-Slash-Girl.  It’s been almost a year since we started the process and it’s been 5 1/2 months since we’ve been “officially” waiting, but we’ve been waiting for you for a lot longer than that.  Ten years of marriage, 8 of which we’ve spent trying to build our family.  My faith is not shaken.  Not even close.  My faith in my loving Creator who has a perfect plan is stronger than ever.  However, my patience in the perfect plan is shaky.  This momma is tired.  I’m trying to find joy in each day, find purpose in each day, but the longer I wait, the more the reality of you creeps into the edges of my vision, where it’s blurry and unknown.  As I see mothers with babies who are about your age, my body longs for you, Baby Slash.  My arms ache to hold you, my eyes well up to look at your face, my fingers twitch to feel your hair, and my chest contracts as I can almost feel you nestled against me.  I’m wrecked.  I’m wracked.  I need you with me.  Each day I’m filled with equal parts anguish and joy, sparkling with wonder and laughter as I explore the world with Elliott and fighting full-body sobs as I grieve for the loss that you’re feeling right now.  Please find in me the healing that you need; let me point you to the one true Healer.  I’m comforted that He’s with you now, guiding your path, making a way for you to arrive in my arms.