It’s late on a Sunday afternoon. The weekend chores are
finished. The fire is crackling and glowing. The Christmas tree is lit. And
I’ve spent the last 120 minutes curled up on the couch, watching a Christmas
movie while brownies for one of the four parties on our schedule this week are
cooling in the kitchen and filling our house with the sweet reminder that the
season is upon us. Typically, the holidays are a little stressful. But for me,
this weekend feels like the first time I’ve taken a real, long, deep breath.
Almost unanimously within our circles, the past few months
have been hectic and busy. I’ve found it really difficult to fully process
things because it’s literally been one thing after another. So much has
happened, and yet, for us in the Smith house, things aren’t really that much
different. We are waiting. Like we have been for about two months now. And I
praise the Lord that we’ve been so busy – otherwise the waiting might have driven
me a little crazy.
The next step for us in the adoption process is getting that
phone call or email: “A birth mother would like to meet with you.” And I’ll be
completely honest; the thought of that phone call makes my stomach drop. To
think that some brave woman is choosing to give her child life and has requested
to meet us in consideration of
parenting that child….. It’s just so intense to me. And humbling and scary and
exciting all at once….
It feels so incredibly appropriate that during this Advent
season, we wait. With the hope of a child. With the possibility that this
Christmas will be our last as a family of two. With all of the warmth and joy
and sparkle that come with the holiday season. Knowing that our hope is only a
small shadow. That the eager longing we feel for this child is nothing compared
to our desperation for Christ – both in His birth and in His return.
We believe that He is good. We trust His timing and know
that it’s perfect. And so, with hope, we wait.
