The common place (and by common place I mean Urban Dictionary) definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.
Today I feel insane. Not in the straight jacket, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, psychotropic medication, hours of therapy and skills work each week, padded room kind of insane.
The Urban Dictionary kind of insane. The seriously questioning my thought process, faith and strength kind of insane. The kind of insane that says even though this makes no logical sense, God makes sense and I will keep knocking on the door. The door with the huge letters that read:
Despite last week being the worst week I’ve had in a LONG time (short version: no kids, dog bit kid and have to give up dog, bank account over-drafted because I read the calendar wrong, my personal counselor double booked me and couldn’t see me [and so did my work supervisor], and first respite weekend ended with the police) that week is over. During last week I could not see or feel God in my life. We went to praise and worship night on wednesday night because I knew that we needed it. Both Joel and I needed to be bolstered up by our church family and sing some awesome songs. It is so hard to feel praiseful (is that a word) during a week like that but there is also something humbling and awe-inspiring about it. Something that says: “You know what, this sucks, suck ass, sucks more swear words than I feel comfortable putting up on my blog. I don’t get why any of this is happening. I wanted those boys to be MY boys. I want to be a mom. Why not now? Why not me? Why not us? I’m mad and cranky and depressed and can’t even describe how I feel but it’s not good! But you know what I’m here, bring on whatever comes next. Whatever you have for me I want, good bad or in between.”
God has put on my heart the desire to adopt children. Unlike my comments from my previous post, it cannot be a practical joke. God knows exactly who my children, when Joel and I will meet them, when they will become legally ours, and everything else there is possibly to know. My job (our job really as I am not in this alone) is to follow the nudges, pray for guidance and keep the faith.
So, with no thought about our bruised and broken hearts, our empty tank of faith, and our negative reserves of strength we have, once again, submitted our name for a child available for adoption. The way we found out about this little girl (15-month old African American girl) in a very odd non-blogable way, needless to say I am thankful for all those that went out of their way for someone they don’t even know!
So now we are back on the path, ready to be down-trodden and beaten back yet again until we find the kids God has for us. Please do not mistake this post for an upbeat happy post, it is not. I am frustrated and all the feelings listed above in my conversation with God, but I am so very much wanting my faith to be restored and my tank to be filled. The only way I know how to do that is to follow God’s nudging in my life. So, here we go again…