God of All Time

Today means that we've been on the wait list for 4 months! The time has actually flown by, and we've really enjoyed these past 4 months together - seeing movies, sleeping in, keeping the wine in the wine rack on the ground, spontaneous change of plans. We recognize that every day we are closer to becoming parents so we're taking advantage of these days.

As I've been thinking about "the day" when we get our referral and then "the BIG day" when we bring our kiddos home, I've been thinking about it in terms of Finally vs. It's Time. Some days it feels like we are finally becoming parents, after nearly 3 years of trying and waiting. Yet there are an increasing number of days that I realize it will be more of the reality that it's time.

God doesn't make mistakes on timing. In fact, for years I've been quoting "the right thing at the wrong time is still the wrong thing". Predominantly, I've used it with others about the timing boyfriends, new jobs, buying a house, or whatever was wanted NOW instead of LATER. The truth of the matter is that God is a God of all time - past, present, and future. The kids that will become Diaz's will be exactly the ones who need to be in our family. It will be right for them and us. God never gives us something and says, "finally!" When he gives us what's best for us at precisely the right moment, I can only imagine heaven announcing to the universe, "IT'S TIME!"

Trust me. When we get that phone call about our babies, we will announce to the world IT'S TIME!!!! In the meantime, we are being strengthened from the inside out (ask to feel my biceps...not too bad these days).

Showing Up

One year ago today I furiously drove home from church to get news from Brian about our 3rd and final IUI cycle. It was our last medical shot at getting pregnant. I threw open our front door, butterflies flying in my belly, and ran back to find Brian. We met in the hallway. He didn't even say anything. I knew. It failed.

I collapsed to the ground in tears. Brian held me up and carried me to our bed. I don't even really remember the rest of that night. Unimaginable pain and loss. That was the worst day of my life to date. It felt like a piece of me died. And even one year later, tears are streaming down my face as I remember that moment.

Fast forward one year later and we are expectantly awaiting our referral for our 2 little ones. Our hearts have healed so much and we are full and grateful for our story. What a difference a year can make.

But what I wanted to write about today was what unfolded in the week after that devastating day. I took the week off work to grieve and rest (my body had been through so much treatment in a year). And people started showing up. I remember who showed up. My parents sent flowers. Angela showed up with homemade Korean food that she and her mom made. Daniel and Cassidy showed up on a night where I was going to be alone and brought dinner...and a bottle of wine. Ed showed up with Mexican food and sat with us for over an hour, validating our grief, sharing about Jesus' grief. Lisa showed up with the "Anne of Green Gables" series. Our small group showed up to love on us. So many others did, too, through phone calls, texts, emails, and hundreds of prayers.

I remember who showed up because it carried us through that week in ways I will never fully understand. I will be forever grateful to our friends and co-workers who showed up those days. Once again, thank you. It will make sharing our babies with you even more powerful, humbling, and overwhelming. We love you and are so grateful.

Letting Go - Parenting 101

One of the hardest things for me in recent months is the reality that our oldest kiddo is alive somewhere in Ethiopia. Who knows where they are living? Who's taking care of them? Is (s)he sick or in need medically? I wonder if their birth momma is alive, or sick, or dying? And then I start wondering about their little brother/sister (biological or not). Is (s)he born yet or still in utero? What's their story with their birth parents? When will they get into a safe orphanage? Who will care for both our babies before we get to bring them home?
For a little while, those questions haunted me. They messed me up and brought me to tears. But I've been learning Parenting 101 Lesson: Letting Go. I've been learning that letting go doesn't mean that I don't care about their well-being. Letting go means that I put my trust in the One who cares the most for them. It means that I believe God will care for them - physically, emotionally, parentally - even better than I will.

Honestly, sometimes it's hard to trust that God will care for them during this waiting period. Not impossible, but hard. But the truth is that even when I have my babies home, it's a false sense of control, security, and power that I can ultimately protect them and care for them. In fact, God their Father and Mother is their Protector, no matter their home or guardians.

These kids are not my own. They are God's. Perhaps it's more obvious in adoption, but equally as true. Brian and I are gonna do our best to take care of them, but we will be learning to let them go every day.