These Three Remain (August 2010)

I don’t know why they call it an adoption “disruption.” As if you’ve been sleeping peacefully and are suddenly awakened. I guess it’s like the word “miscarriage” – a sterile, technical term that does nothing to describe the shock or grief or subsequent pain.

I could say that no one thought for a minute this would happen. Everything about this adoption was textbook – the birthmom was as determined as you could wish; everyone involved was convinced that every step was providential and could not be more wonderfully progressing. I could say that there were so many unforeseen complications that, in the end, turned the entire thing on its head. I could say that and start looking for someone (or Someone) to blame. I could say those things, but it doesn’t really help.

How is it possible to miss two babies whom I did not deliver and whom I only saw for a couple of minutes? We planned for them and prayed for them and considered them ours only for a few months. The world of adoption brings strange avenues of loss and grief.

A friend and I were talking about the Mariah Carey song that says, “Though hope is frail it’s hard to kill.” That’s pretty much the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard in my life. Hope can easily be killed. I’ve seen it die in my own heart several times over. I’ve seen it die in Josh’s. As if Hope has its own life inside of you and it just keeps living on no matter what happens. Not in my world.

Why does Paul list Hope among the greatest of Christian virtues? Why not simply prepare ourselves for the worst and live each day expecting sorrow? Why does God command us to do the hard, hard work of continuing to expect and pray for good things? And what does it mean to hope anyway? It’s not like simply by believing and hoping I can achieve miracles. (All due respect to Ms. Carey…)

God is not a tame lion. But even if He is not tame, He is still my God – and the God of my children. My Hope rests entirely in God being who He says He is. He says He is Father to the fatherless and defender of the poor and forsaken. That’s how I know His calling on our lives to adopt is not a cruel joke or a mistake. That’s how I know we are right where we’re supposed to be and I knew it all during that horrible, painful week. That’s my Hope and that’s why we love adoption and that’s why we’ll just keep trying. Like Faith and like Love, Hope too is action.

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