"Met in Thee Tonight"

Who knew? Who knew we would still be waiting to see a picture, know an age, see a face belonging to our daughter? He knew. He knows.

It's often I have to remind myself that just because we haven't received a call yet doesn't mean we are forgotten. I even grab my Bible or hit my knees somedays for the sole purpose of replacing lies with Truth: He knows, He cares, He is receiving the most glory this way. It never occurred to me a few months ago that we would celebrate Christmas, again, without knowing who our daughter is. As the days have turned to weeks and as Christmas week has come, I feel like every day is a fight to not grow weary and discouraged. The prayers of faithful friends and family are sustaining us and reminders of their prayers come at the most appropriate times. Yesterday seemed particularly hard for some reason. I fought back tears numerous times and even gave way to them a time or two, just missing our sweet, lonely child that remains faceless.

I did my "normal" things in the day of laundry, dishes, feeding hungry kids, working out, and getting everyone ready for a special Christmas service at church last night. What happened to me there was anything but "normal." We began by singing the traditional Christmas songs and the candles were lit around us as we sang. Then, as we sang "O Little Town of Bethlehem" my heart found peace and rest in a line that had grown too familiar:

The hopes and fears of all the years are met in Thee tonight.

My eyes filled with tears and suddenly the birth of Christ took on a fresh, new meaning. I have known my entire life that Christ came to live a perfect life in order that He would die for our sins. I have known that Him coming is the one and only bridge that had the ability to span the gulf lying between me and the God of the Universe. Yet, I had somehow missed that in that manger laid the same One who holds all my hopes and fears. In Him they are all planned out, orchestrated, being fine tuned, and one day will be perfected. I have sang it a thousand times or more, yet the words resonated with my heartbeat last night, the heartbeat of being fearful Uand sometimes feeling like hope for our daughter will never really come. He spoke to me in that moment, reminding me He knows I am afraid and He knows I need hope for the years to come.

The Hopes. The hope that she will one day find and know the One who holds every answer, that she will grow to believe that her past, present, and future are all designed for His glory, that she will immediately know and trust our love, that she will find her family to be trustworthy, patient, and more than she had every hoped for, that she will have the ability to grieve here, find healing here, and one day offer His hope to others, that our hearts will find renewed strength as we press on trusting His timing, that one day the wait will make perfect sense, hope that even if we never know the "why's" we always know the "Who".

The list is so long, there aren't enough words or time to "pen" them all. The hopes and fears....

The fears. Rarely do we, as human beings, strip out of our arrogance long enough to look someone in the eye and say, "I am afraid of ......" But, in this adoption there are real-life fears. Just to name a few: the unknown, bringing in a child who doesn't speak our language, not knowing how she will adjust or fit into our family, needing wisdom on how to merge two cultures and two worlds that will make up the fabric of our family.... a fabric we are all familiar with right now, fears about how she will relate to us and the kids, fears about her past and how to offer her total healing, uncertainty about how to calm her, will we know how to deal with her intense grief?, will she know our love is unconditional, will she trust us yet even in five years?

Oh goodness. The list could go on for days. But I continue to be reminded that in every hard, God-sized task He has ever called me to, wrapped up in the risk and questions came the greatest blessings. Then, the Hope comes in.

But, I couldn't stop there. The next few words were equally as important:

of all the years. ALL the years. The ones before us. The ones before her. The ones after us. The ones after her. All her years. All her years are found in Him. All our years. All our days. Even the hard ones. Even the ones where He is working and we just have to trust what is unseen. It is so hard for me to imagine a 2-5 year old girl living today without a Mom or Dad. Having no one to call family or anyone to hold her when she is sick. It's hard to think about her having nothing to call her own but her name and no one to run to when she is afraid. But,

our hopes and fears of ALL the years are met in Thee tonight.


All the days of questions from our kids about why the wait is so long. All the hard nights where Mark and I lay in our bed talking about her and dreaming. And crying. And wondering. All the the tears, all the questions, all the holidays that come and go. All the longing. All the prayers. All the years are

met in Thee tonight.

As we press on toward the weekend we are hurting, but hopeful. As we set out gifts for a daughter who isn't yet home we are eager to see His plan and know her face. We are fighting through fears with hope and thankful to serve One who knows them all. We are trusting Him in fresh new ways and seeing Him work in ways only He can. And when we sing this Christmas we will sing with a new song, one that lasts all year,

The Hopes and Fears of All the Years are Met in THEE tonight.