He Withholds No Good Thing... [Inviting You To Drop In Over At A Holy Experience Today]

The pain is more acute this Christmas season.

I'm not sure if it's because we're waiting to adopt... or because she's been in our lives more frequently as of late.  Maybe both.  But for whatever reason, the fact that she's not [anymore] our daughter, it's this physical ache in my heart these days.  Like an elephant sitting on my chest.

She should be here with us, helping decorate our Christmas tree.  We should be tucking her in bed at night in her warm Christmas pj's.  She should be Isaac's big sister.  She should have continued to advance verbally and mentally and emotionally and academically instead of having her entire life ripped out from under her at almost 2 years old.  She should be secure and confident and beginning to read and counting to 50 or 100 even and not struggling to form complete sentences or to count to 10 at age 4.

But she's not.  And all of these "shoulds" are obviously more my own idea than God's.  Because He allowed her to be taken from us.  His plans for her life are good, and yet this, the way it's all playing out, it's SO not the life story I would have chosen for her.

Today Ann Voskamp's blog contains the words I sense the Lord speaking into the deep places of my pain... into all of us who feel the ache of our losses so much more sharply at Christmas time.

He withholds no good thing from us.  

No good thing.

And Ann asks the question that's pounded in my own heart in the years following our great losses: Can all the hurting hearts believe that He withholds no good thing from us?

Can mine?  

Can yours?

Could I invite you to stop in over at Ann's blog today?  Her words are more than worth your time...and your open heart.

[PS - For a little more info on "our" baby girl's story, read here.]

A Quick Note on Tali

Hi friends, I wanted to clear up any confusion that may be hanging around regarding our situation with our Tali-bug.  For those who may not know, she was our baby girl that we fostered from birth until she was almost 2.  At that point we lost her to her birth mom and it has been a really tough situation for her.  We have stayed in touch with her family and been a support to her mom as much as we could be, but have also been very concerned about various family dynamics in their home.  Her mother is doing as well as she can given her history and her circumstances....but it is very difficult for her, and therefore, difficult for Tali.

Anyway, back in Dec (I think it was December), I ended up having a very upfront conversation with Tali's mother, letting her know (as gently and lovingly as possible) that we were concerned about her coping skills and her ability to parent Tali, and that if she ever felt like it was too much for her to handle or like it would be in Tali's best interest, that we would be willing to adopt her, maintain her relationship with her birth mom, have visits with her, etc.... but that we were willing to take 100% responsibility for her financially and in every other way...if she ever felt that it would be best for Tali.  She responded SUPER well to everything I said, was very vulnerable and openhearted with me, and while she hasn't come to a decision at this point that she would like us to adopt Tali, she has made it clear a couple of times that she appreciates knowing she has that option.

In our current adoption process, there have been a few people who expressed confusion, thinking maybe we were getting to adopt our Bug... and though we would LOVE for that to be the case, we also are excited about the opportunity to an infant privately (assuming the Lord brings in the finances to do so! :) ). If the opportunity to adopt Tali were to arise anytime in the near future, we would of course put the brakes on this private adoption process and adopt her and wait to adopt another child.  But as we feel that this is God's timing for us to move toward private adoption of an infant, we are trusting Him with Tali and moving forward with this.

We do still keep Tail usually one night, overnight, per week, and see her family a couple of other times during the week as we do various things to support her mom (i.e. errands, rides, etc.).

Anyway... I hope things clears things up for some of you.... Please let me know if you have other questions! :)

Praying for Tali this morning...

Lord, you know the hopes of the helpless.

Surely you will hear their cries and comfort them.

You will bring justice to the orphans and the oppressed,

so mere people can no longer terrify them.

~Psalm 10:17&18

Hoping, Waiting, Aching...

I will wait for you... with you. Believe that the longing of your heart is to rescue her. Believe that your heart is for her and your plans for her are GOOD.

Your plans for her are full of hope.

To prosper her and not to harm her.

You promised. In your heart, she is Talika Hope. In our hearts too.

What else can we do but wait? Wait, and not allow our hopes for her to die. It is tempting.... tempting to close our hearts, a lot, or just a little. Tempting to let go of hope...because hope is painful when it comes to matters like these. But hope is also sweet. Hope draws us, propels us, into the secret place. The place where we hear you, encounter your heart, learn to lean and trust and cry into your chest.

The ache of hopeful waiting draws us into you, and we share a little bit in the fellowship of your suffering.

Oh Father, let me steward this gift well. Help me, God. I'm afraid of my own desire for comfort. Waiting in hope is not comfortable. Sometimes the ache seems unbearable. In those moments, I am learning to press in close to your heart... learning to draw strength, peace, and joy from my Source, even as I hold this ache in my heart.

I can have these things in tandem.

The ache, and the joy.

The deep longing, and the deep peace.

The crying out, and the silent trusting.

The waiting, and being fully present in this moment.

The tears, and the laughter.

They are all from you. They are all gifts.

They are not mutually exclusive.

I am learning to live fully alive, freely, full of joy and peace. I am learning to live while carrying this ache. Teach me Father.

I trust in your heart, your perfect plans, your sovereignty. I trust in your power and desire to move mountains on her behalf. I press in deeper. Trust you ruthlessly, relentlessly, agonizingly. How long, O Lord?!

I wait in hope for you.....