Always.

I am writing from a hotel tonight while everyone else sleeps.  I can't shut my mind down long enough to rest.  My heart is too full.  It's just been one of "those" days.  You know, the kind that goes fast and slow all at the same time?  The kind where you're not sure whether you want to laugh or cry all day.  My heart has been so full of expectation for Passion 2013.  We have spent so many hours in prayer leading up to this week.  So, to hop into the car tonight after finishing up our final Christmas celebration was exciting for the kids and me (Mark arrived in Atlanta yesterday).  Then it happened: the kids fell asleep almost immediately and it was just me and Him.  And it was beautiful.

My mind began thinking while my lips began singing.  I switched off the Christmas music (sad day) and chose to listen to my "White Flag" CD in preparations for Passion.  I wanted to refocus my day on Him, on freedom, on choosing joy.  Almost immediately my mind went to our recent trip to Haiti.  I began praying for so many friends there who are hurting, alone, vulnerable, scared, insecure, and desperate for hope.  I prayed for our sweet friends, Megan and Josh, who live there full-time ministering in Gressier (Respire Haiti). We enjoyed dinner at our house with Megan and Josh in November while they were in the states for a few days.  When we went to Haiti I was excited to see a hand written note on their fridge, colored by one of the kids, that read: Today I Choose Joy.  We have the same thing painted on a canvas in our kids' bathroom.  So, when I commented on it, Josh said, "Yes, I saw it at your house and came here and made that one." And then it became so clear to me that joy really is a choice some days. After being in Haiti, especially, I better understand it. So much physical and spiritual bondage there left an impression on me that will be with me until the oppression there is gone.  Child slaves.  abandonment. sickness. poverty. It can feel so overwhelming, but then I remember it won't be this way forever.  He came to set us free in order that we might help free others.  Singing "White Flag" wasn't just out of routine this time.  I had names and faces of slaves I know, ones our family prays for, and they aren't just a statistic anymore.  They are real kids.  With real pain and with deep wounds.  My heart was drawn to praise while my eyes were drawn to tears. I can praise because He knows and hears.

Always.

As I sang on and tried to really take in every line of the familiar songs, I felt like every line left me undone.  It was as if I was hearing them all for the first time, but with the familiarity that left me able to sing along.  And then I heard it for the thousandth time, but as if the first:  "It will be my joy to say, 'Your Will, Your Way....'" My Joy. Your Will.  YOUR way.  Really?  Let's just be honest and agree that sometimes His Will and His way requires choosing joy.  At least for me.  I can sing it all day long with my arms raised in agreement, but when it comes down to it, sometimes His Will I can accept, but His way is a little harder.  But, the lyric doesn't end there and neither did my heart lesson.  The next word changes it even more.  Every part of it changes.  "It will be my joy to say, 'Your will, Your Way....

Always.'"

Always.  Not just when I like it.  Not just when He does things according to my wishes or my timing.  Not just when things go how I want them to.  Not just when His ways make sense to me.

Always.

In every season.  In every wait.  In every day.  In every interaction. In every calling.  In every attitude.  In every conversation.  In every situation.

Always.

I had to struggle through singing it the first few times as if convincing myself that it was okay to be joyful about His will AND His way.  I am SO thankful His will has led us down the adoption road.  Unbelievably grateful.  There are so many ways to adopt, so many avenues to care for the fatherless.  After all the praying, seeking, and fasting about it, we are humbled to our core God chose us to internationally adopt.  We have many friends adopting, some domestically, some through fostering, and some internationally from other countries.  None are more important than the other, each just done according to His call.  So, in singing it was a great reminder of His will and the reassurance that He called us to this so clearly.
His way.  Sigh.  That part gets a little tougher.  Complaining, rebelling, and growing bitter are certainly options.  As is running from Him and running from all those who are walking the road with us. However, neither are His way.  Running to His arms has proven to be where the only comfort lies.  Continuing to have those who are encouraging us, praying for us, crying with us, and preparing for her beside us is such a sweet blessing to our longing hearts.  It gets so easy to question and to grow weary, to run from what I know is true.  But, in the end, His will done His way is the deepest desire of my heart.  Even when I don't understand or like it.  Choose joy.

always.

I am coming tonight with a heart that is so far from mastering this truth.  I believe it's possible and I believe I am light years from where I once was.  But, when the rubber meets the road and His will and His way differ from mine, choosing joy isn't always easy.  It's intentional.  It's worth it.  It's purposed. It's never wasted.  Never.

By the time the kids stirred 3 hours into the trip, I was singing, "It will be my joy to say,'Your will, Your way. Always,'" with confidence that His plan is good.  With tears streaming down my face and one arm raised in the air (the other carefully navigating the steering wheel).  He spoke so sweetly to my spirit, reminding me that His way is best and His love for me, for us, for her isn't dependent on what my eyes see or my flesh feels.  But on Him... the One who is Sovereign. Sufficient. Good. Defender of the weak.  Father to the Fatherless. Chain Breaker. Heart Healer. Soul Saver. Life Giver. Abundant.
Faithful.

always.

Full of Hope

This is the third time today I have sat to write.  I am not sure if it's my head or my heart that is struggling the most to write.  It isn't that there is bad news or new news.  Perhaps that is the hardest part.  Simply waiting.  For nearly two years we have planned around the "what if we are gone" rationale. As we hung our ornaments last year and decorated the mantel with stockings we smiled, knowing the next time we did it she would be home.  We decided after Passion last year that I would take some time off because "next year" she will be home and the time away for planning would be too much for both of us to be away.

Here we go, again.

It never occurred to me that we would still be in this place at this time.  I am glad I had no idea.  Part of me says it would've made it "easier" to go in knowing it would take this long.  The other part of me trusts that God knew when to hang a veil and when not to.  I recently studied this in a Beth Moore study where she accurately taught, "God is as purposed in hanging a veil as He is tearing one."  No truer words have ever been spoken.  I trust Him and believe the veil that is hanging before us full of "when's, " "why's," and longing is full of His purpose.  In spite of being heartbroken and ready, we aren't hopeless.  I hung her stocking this year with a new hope... one that simply said, "One day, in His time, she will be here to hang this and to wake up to it being full on Christmas morning."  It doesn't make it any easier, but it does focus us on hope.

I am not sure what her days look like or if she longs for us like we long for her.  I don't know if she will like one thing we will place in her stocking this year or how she will respond to the madness on Christmas morning at our house when she is home. I do know, however, that He is knitting our hearts to hers in a supernatural way; a way only He can do.  On the days I wake and find it hard to focus on anything or find it impossible to have a conversation without tears, I can sense Him sweetly saying,

"Here we go, again."

Not as if He is frustrated or annoyed with my tears or my questions, but as if He stands ready to reassure me as many times as is necessary that He hasn't forgotten her.  I am so thankful.  In this season,  the wait is especially difficult.  We know so many who are spending Christmas without someone they dearly love.  Our struggle is much the same.  But, as we wait we haven't lost Hope.  Just like God's chosen people hadn't heard from Him in over 400 years, certain He had forgotten them, they woke to the good news, "For unto you this day in the city of David a Savior has been born, He is Christ the Lord."  Praise Him!  He saw past our wanderings, past our desires, past our mistakes, and past what we deserved straight to what we needed: A Savior.  Hope is never lost on His timetable.

We are grateful to our knees for all of you who faithfully pray for us.  Your prayers are a priceless treasure.  And despite the hanging veil, we are full of Hope and trust that as Christmas draws near He will comfort each part, each heart, each longing.  We are praying your family has a blessed Christmas, full of hope.

"For unto you this day in the city of David, a child has been born, a Savior who is the Christ Lord!"