Holding Loosely, Clinging Tightly

Plan. Don't plan. Think of the future. Don't do that. Wish for something. Stop wishing. Live in the moment. What about tomorrow?

Hello, conundrum:
\kə-ˈnən-drəm\

a) a question or problem having only a conjectural answer  

b) an intricate and difficult problem 

 

This is where I live. And it's where I've always lived, but this adoption process has just made that all the more evident.

  

As a human, (and a person with slight OCD tendencies!) I like to have a plan. I like to map out my future. And I often deviate from my map, but at least I made it and I'm typically somewhat in control of the deviations. When I was about 6 (i.e. could independently hold a pencil) I started goal setting every January 1st with my dad. Some people laugh at the proverbial "New Years' Resolutions," but for me they're an excellent re-orientation towards what I should be striving to be: more like Christ.

 

So, the adoption...

 

The thing is, there's no plan.

 

Oh, we filled out all the paperwork. We've paid our first chunk of change (goodbye, $$$$$), and we've completed the homestudy, the classes, and the interviews.

 

But now there is no plan.

 

 With everything that is in my heart, I want to hold a baby. I want to cuddle it, and soothe it. For years I've babysat screaming babies who quieted at the sound of their mom's voices. I'm ready to be the mom. 

Adoption isn't like a nine-month gestation period. While it may not have the swollen ankles (yay!), it does not have the degree of certainty. While I understand that literally anything  can happen at any birth, we're facing an additional hurdle. 

We may be chosen by a birth mom. I may go with her to all her appointments. I may stand in labor and delivery holding her hand. I may get to hold the screaming, brand-new baby. I may cuddle it, feed it, love it...

And then we may leave the hospital without a baby.

Until the birth mom signs the papers, that is still her baby. As it should be.

So I can't plan. I can't nest. I can't buy baby clothes. I can't have a shower. Because we may go through an entire 12 months and never get a baby. And then we have to decide if we'll pay another chunk of change, go through another home study, and complete more paperwork in order to try for another 12 months.

Because I may not have a baby.

To me it is  important that I not accumulate baby things, plan my baby schedule, and dream of baby-baby-baby.

Because then I will make an idol out of motherhood.

I want it dearly. I want it desperately.

But it may not be my plan. And if that is the case, I want to drift into that knowledge with a heart free of bitterness towards my God. I want my satisfaction to rest wholly with Him, and I know that "at an acceptable time, [He], in the abundance of [His] steadfast love [will] answer me in [His] saving faithfulness."(Ps. 69:13)

So I'm standing (perhaps) on the brink of motherhood. Trying not to get excited, but still trying to delight in this process. Trying to hold it loosely, while simultaneously passionately pursue it. Trying to rejoice in this opportunity, and rejoice if it is taken away.

For the only way I will be truly joyful, is if I believe that God alone can satisfy, and I must cling to Him. As Psalm 63 says over and over, "My soul thirsts for you....because your steadfast love is better than life, my lips will praise you... My soul will be satisfied... for you have been my help. In the shadow of your wings I will sing for joy. My soul clings to you." God's hand will not let me fall. His plans are better than mine.

My baby (if they're out there!), and all babies, rest in the same hands that I do... For my God is a big and loving God.

Same lesson as always... I just had to fill out tons of paperwork to arrive there this time...