Wednesday, April 25, 2012


I look to you, heaven-dwelling God, look up to you for help.
Like servants, alert to their master's commands,
   like a maiden attending her lady,
We're watching and waiting, holding our breath,
   awaiting your word of mercy.
Mercy, God, mercy!
It astounds me to count up the time and realize that Steve and I have spent two of the last four years actively waiting on God.  Over a year for Sasha, almost a year for WanYing, and now four months for Steve and that which is to come... wow.  I mean, we're not talking about little spells of impatience here - this is 53% of the last 52 months (yes, I did the math) spent waiting for the most important people imaginable, the biggest life changes that can be fathomed, the decisions that would change everything.

I am not a patient person. I am not a naturally graceful waiter.  But in these last years I have learned and believed and learned to trust that waiting is never wasted time. It's never void.

The wait for Sasha was brutal.   Despite a conscious knowledge of God's promises for our times of waiting on him, that message hadn't sunk into my heart.  I was impatient, cranky, angsty.  I wanted my baby and every day that kept us apart was agonizing.  It wasn't pretty.  But God used me and taught me despite myself.

The wait for WanYing was a little easier.  Not easy... waiting isn't, shouldn't be, easy, but less angst-ridden.  I had already experienced the transformative work accomplished in the waiting, so it was easier to believe the promises that cushioned the grief of my separation from the girl who would be my daughter.  And a few more of my seemingly endless number of rough edges were polished out.

And now I write from the depths of this new and strangest wait.  It is not a serene wait - how can one be serene waiting for her family to be together?  But in my reflective moments I realize that by and large this is a peaceful wait... not peace that comes after the storm but peace in the midst of that tempest.  I am not fighting the storm, I am finding my center, my God, as I watch and wait and hold my breath for his mercy.

I am far from perfect. I am prone to temper and frustration.  I need an eternity for all of my rough edges to find their polish and beauty.  But right here and right now, miracle that it is, I can weigh the heartache and misery and glory and grace and say that I'm grateful for how God has used the waiting times of the last 4 years to transform me into more of the woman he created me to be.  I'm grateful that he's never let go and never let me down.  I'm grateful for the wait.

And a pretty amazing testimony, because I am not a patient person :)

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