Sunday, October 13, 2013

she prays for us too*

the friday evening our social worker phoned us to ask when we can pick her up, i just came back from a two hour massage.

a two hour massage, where, when i went to lie down, i cried.

i cried to God. about us not being able to 'just get another child'. i didn't care if we did not get pregnant, why couldn't people who want to adopt children, not 'just get a child'.  (i know about all the legal things. trust me, i do).  but this night, i wondered and asked God and wanted to know why we could not just get another child. this not knowing. the hoping and trusting and wanting to believe, but you don't know how long you can still 'hold on'.  it's endless. it breaks your heart. every moment you have to hold on and cling to the promise that your baby is on her/his way, every new morning you get up, you hold on some more, but your heart breaks a little bit more too.

it usually takes me about 20 minutes to relax into the massage...
i remember crying, praying...
and then total surrender.

total surrender

i remember telling Him that i cannot do this anymore. i cannot hold on and believe that our baby is on his/her way. i'm tired.

i remember thinking 'i don't know what to do anymore, i surrender. totally and wholeheartedly, i surrender. He must do what He wants to do. i can't do this anymore'.

i closed my eyes and relaxed into the massage, with an indescribable sadness lingering within.

2,5 hours later she phoned. and she asked: 'when can you be back in south africa to pick up your little girl?'

just like that. today i can say just like that. returning to the waiting, especially now, being within the waiting again, it's heart wrenching.  it's playing with your emotions daily, trying to stay in the present and make each moment count with the people around you.


you do hold onto that hope.
you trust. big time. not just because you need Him. you trust because He is the truth, the way.
you believe that He has big plans for your life.
you know that He wants only good things for your life and
you feel your other children is out there, waiting for you.

you can feel it.

we prayed for years for our little girl too.  in october 2010 i wrote a letter to 'our beautiful baby' under a tree in the shade, not even knowing that she was on her way.  already growing in her birth mama's tummy.

but i could feel her in my heart.

she won't go to sleep at night before we did not pray. and it is kneeling-down-on-your-knees, hands-together-praying. 

she prays:
'................ (insert mumbles of sounds here)... pappa'
'.................(insert mumbles of sounds here)...mamma'
'.................(insert mumbles of sounds here)...boeta'
'..................(insert mumbles of sounds here)...whobin' (robin)
'..................(inserts mumbles of sounds here)...ferris.....timo.....nana (her best friends and their mama)

No comments:

Post a Comment