The days have not gotten easier yet. Each week brings a new hardship and new level of grief. I’m often surprised by how the truths of our story are unfolding and get overwhelmed with sadness. Not only do you never dream you’ll experience these things, but you also never dream these moments bring blessings.
Last night Rob and I were replaying the events of the last few months and neither of us could believe how much has changed in our lives in such a short amount of time. We feel both wounded and strong at the same time. We have never felt so much like parents and so lonely without a child, our child. We dream of reuniting with our babe in paradise and long for the day we get to hold our adopted one. It feels strange to hold this new title of parenthood without the proof of that task. We feel like we are working and trekking hard towards the call of adoption, but in our weak state it’s truly a struggle to take each desired step forward. But we do. We are limping forward. With moments of full hearts and moments of brokenness we move. The reality that there is a life at the end of this path that Christ chose to be ours is too precious of a call to slow down now.
As we continue on and make appointments, finish paperwork, plan out fundraising, pray, pray, pray… we feel blessed. Blessed by the miracle of strength that we keep getting gifted with. Blessed by the kind words, gifts and support that people surround us with. Blessed that we’re thought of. Blessed that you care. Blessed that our hurt has become your hurt because of the love you have for us. Bless that both of our children are already being prayed for, provided for and are on your hearts as much as ours. We walk with a limp, but we don’t walk alone. Thank you for being our blessing.