Worth the Wait

One year ago today I spent the morning texting with my dear friends Erin and Deidre.  We had traveled together in October of 2012 to Ethiopia to meet our children for the first time.  On this day, they were heading back to Ethiopia to get their kids and bring them home. 

I was not.  I was taking Payton to gymnastics, getting ready for another weekend at home, while they were loading up their suitcases, full of happiness and anticipation that the time had finally come.  I was genuinely excited and glad for them and their sweet kiddos that I had grown to love.  But there was a part of me that was screaming, “This is soooooo NOT fair! I should be on that plane, too!  My Addie should be there at the transition home waiting on me!”  I was devastated that I wasn’t going back for her.

Billy and I sat in our kitchen in our then home that morning and talked about how we had been praying that the Lord would open our hearts to another child when the time came.  We took Payton to gymnastics, and as we were leaving, Billy’s phone rang.  It was our dear friend, Lesley, from Lifeline.  She was calling because she had information that two baby girls in Ethiopia were almost paperwork ready for referral.  I stared at Billy in disbelief as he told me we needed to start praying even more fervently for our hearts because we could have a referral as early as the following week. 

Late that afternoon, I was upstairs getting ready to meet my sister for coffee when Billy called from the basement to ask me to come down for a minute.  I trudged downstairs, thinking (as only a holy wife would), “This better be good… why can’t he just talk to me on the phone?”

When I walked into his “corner office,” as he called it (it was just the far corner of our completely unfinished, cold, concrete basement), Billy said, “She’s here, Lesley.” 

Some of the sweetest, most redemptive words ever spoken came out of her mouth next- “Are you ready to see your little girl?”

I sat in complete shock as the beautiful face of a tiny baby named “Yetnayet” appeared on our computer screen.  I was completely speechless other than to say, “Are you kidding me?” and “Oh, thank you Jesus.” 

That moment, that day, I saw tangibly, hope rising.  I saw redemption and faithfulness.  I saw the Lord’s hand and His sovereignty on clear display. 

Two days before, I had just written and posted my blog, Dear Addie,. My heart was still seared with the pain of losing my precious daughter, and now I was experiencing the polar opposite, exact extreme of emotion.  There was gladness and rejoicing.  He had readied my heart for this sweet girl in a way that only He is capable of doing. 

In my fleshly heart, there was apprehension.  Could I trust enough to walk this path again?  Was I ready for this?  People told us as we began to share the news, “Well, at least it can’t happen again,” and “This time will obviously be different.”  But the truth is, there are no guarantees with adoption.  There are no guarantees with anything in life, except for the guarantee of His love, His goodness, His faithfulness- the guarantee of HIM and who He is.  So, as we embarked again, we chose to fully experience the happiness of this new sweet baby, and trust that regardless of the outcome, He would remain the same.  To deny the fear we felt would be untruthful, but He gave us the faith we needed to give our fear to Him, step out, and walk ahead anyway. 

I looked up the meaning of her name almost immediately that day, and found that it meant “as far as the horizon.”  When we traveled to Ethiopia to meet her, we found out why she was given the name “Yetnayet,” but what her namer didn’t know was, her name had meaning to us as well.  Addie’s Ethiopian name, (her middle name to us), was “Mihret”, meaning mercy.  Payton’s middle name is “Grace.”  When you put our girls’ middle names together, they mean “grace and mercy as far as the horizon.”

Grace and mercy as far as the horizon.

That is what we’ve seen this year.  That’s what Ellie’s entrance into our family has put in living color.  There were moments in our grief where His presence, His grace, felt as far away as the horizon, but the truth is, it stretches as far as the horizon and beyond, and fills up every space between.  It’s always there.   It’s not just plain ole’ grace and mercy- although, that too, would be pretty wonderful- It’s grace and mercy as far as the horizon.

I don’t think it was a coincidence that we got the call for Ellie’s referral on a day when I was screaming at the Lord about “It’s not fair… I want my Addie… Why am I not on that plane?!”  I imagine Him chuckling as He watched my face when I first saw those “Sweet Cheeks,” as Payton calls them.  I wonder what He was thinking when I wrote those blogs about how ridiculously hard the wait was before my Ellie was even conceived.  I wonder what He’s thinking right now as you cry out to Him while you wait.  There are so many things we wait on- a new job, a house to sell, a husband, a prodigal child to return home, a child to call our own, a healing in our lives or in the lives of our loved-ones, and the list goes on and on.  Waiting is so hard, and after we're done waiting for one thing, it seems like we're waiting on something else.  We wait- and I imagine He sighs and shakes his head as we constantly let him know that "we have got a plan, if he will just listen."  Folks, His plan is better, we can be assured of that.  We can also be assured that He knows about waiting.  He is compassionate and empathetic, because He waits for us.  He waits for some of you to turn to Him and acknowledge Him as Lord and Savior in your life.

If you are the one for whom He’s waiting, I ask you, “What in the world are YOU waiting for?’’  Just do it.  Trust Him.  Admit that you in fact, do not have it all under control.  Admit that you do sin and fail and mess up daily (we all do, hate to break it to you).  Admit that you need His forgiveness.  Admit that you need Him, and decide today that you are gonna follow Him for the rest of your days- no you’re not going to be perfect- that’s why we need His “grace and mercy as far as the horizon.”  You stop waiting, and this day will be far more than a celebration in this family.  This will be a day that you forever seal your spot in His family- A day remembered as the day that you became the next child of God. 

I hope that this blog finds you trusting Him while many of you wait in agony for Him to move, to act, to just make a change in your life.  I can speak from experience, it’s worth the wait.  He makes it worth the wait.  He’s good, y’all.  Always is.