Supposed To Be . . .

Today was supposed to be the day that we brought our son home. After seventeen months as a waiting family, we were matched with an expectant mom and all seemed well. The baby was born earlier in the week and today was supposed to be the start of a new chapter in our lives and the fulfillment of long-held hopes and dreams.

Instead, the bassinet was moved to the basement, the pack n play is folded and packed away, and all the other baby paraphernalia is hidden in drawers and closets. So close, again, but denied.

There's no one to blame, really. Just broken people, like each one of us, seeking love and acceptance and chasing a dream of family. We're just the collateral damage who were standing in the middle.

We saw him an hour after birth. Fed him his first bottle. Tried (unsuccessfully) to get his first burps. Watched the first bath and the weighing and the measuring. Held him. Rocked him. Cried tears of joy. Successfully burped him. Prayed over him. Then, in one phone call, it all changed.

We sobbed. We held him one last time, prayed, kissed him on the forehead, and wheeled him back. We said goodbye, trusting him to a God who sees the end from the beginning and loves us fiercely.

We are broken people too. This morning was the morning we were supposed to bring him home and we would be, officially, parents. Instead, we are full of tears, sorrow, and sadness.

We don't feel strong. We're trusting the Lord as best we can, trusting in the truth that He will work all of this for good (Romans 8: 28). But it's hard. And it hurts.  We are held up by God's grace and love and the love and support being shown to us by our friends and family, with whom we have been gifted beyond measure.

Maybe there's a different son or daughter still to come. Maybe we will become parents in a way we can't imagine. Maybe the answer is "no" and we will fulfill another purpose.

Even if it was only for two days, we are thankful to have loved a precious, beautiful, baby boy, and we will never forget him. He will always be in our hearts and a part of our family.

Update to this story: Unless God. . .

Baggage and Blessing

Wrestling over whether to even post this, because it's not EXACTLY from something I learned in my quiet time, but it was something I was thinking about while I was praying, so I guess it counts. .. Our current circumstances tend to color how we see the world.  One of the big circumstances in my life right now involves negotiating the tricky world of online dating. I have definitely learned quite a bit on this adventure!

I'm not twenty (in case you were wondering). My matches aren't twenty. Most of the profiles that I look at are of men who have been divorced and have children. One pitfall of this consumer-based approach to dating is that one can start to judge based on bald facts alone, with no knowledge of the nuances and specifics of that person's unique situation. I have been reminded over and over again by the Lord to reserve any judgement until I have met a person, and He has also gently taught me that all of us, every single one, have baggage. It just looks different. But, even that is not my main point.

As I was thinking about my particular baggage, I at first was focusing on all the bad stuff that I have carried with me in  my large suitcase with the tag that says "Forty(ish) and never married". Some of the contents: Insecurity, worry, fear, frustration, impatience, and loneliness. As a Christian, the Lord wants me to lose that suitcase, and sometimes I do. However, even if (when) I am able to get rid of it forever, I will still remember what those things feel like, and I think that is a good thing.

In my musings yesterday, though, I felt like God was urging me to remember that, along with the baggage, come blessings. My relationship with the Lord would not be what it is without the frustrations of singleness driving me to Him. My increased awareness of the people who are on the fringe of the church is due to being in one of those (often) forgotten groups. My confidence in God's provision of my relational needs comes from seeing Him meet those needs over and over without using a husband to do it. More practically, my freedom to travel (which I love) hinges in large part in being single, and me being the only one relying on my income allows me to give to causes close to my heart. I have discovered that I can deal with mechanics and banks and loan officers and taxes. I can be happy in this single state that He has me in right now.

Though I sometimes hate the struggle of leaving behind the bad baggage, I am comforted to realize that, without the baggage, I would not experience the many blessings that come from "Forty and never married."  Romans 8:28 promises that:

  . . .for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.

For me, for you, for all of us whom God has called to fulfill His purpose, He can and is and will redeem our baggage and transform it into blessing.