Why....

The wait for Jellybean has been long and tiring. Especially these last few weeks, I find myself frustrated and questioning everything. The answers don't come easy. But the reality is, I do know one reason for the wait. I only have to turn my head to see.

Peanut.

My baby girl.

One year ago tomorrow, I stood in line at a fast food restaurant and my cell phone rang. On the other end was the director of my agency, telling us that our youngest daughter was out of PGN and would be home by Christmas.

I cannot adequately put into words what I felt that night. Shock, joy, disbelief, relief, and overwhelming happiness. Tears and laughter. It was just a short three weeks later, that we found ourselves on a plane headed for Guatemala. The 4 days we spent there were a blur of happiness and fatigue.

And then we came home.

My dream slowly began to unravel and a journey that would test me to my core began.

We had waited for this child, but she had not been waiting for us. The little girl we took home was scared, broken, and angry, deep to her core. In 3 short years, she had lost two mothers she had allowed herself to love, and now this third mommy was asking for her heart.

She could not give it.

And so she put on a facade, a fake front, willing herself to survive this until we too left her. She was silent. She would take care of herself. No matter what.



She had no reason to trust me, and even less reason to love me.

Peanut and I began what would become an intense, but silent battle for her heart. Her, pushing me away ever so subtly, and me, trying to muddle my way through her quietly cold and angry emotions.

Trying to erase her fear.

Trying to fill an emptiness in her heart.

Drawing her in.

Holding her fast in a dance in which she was not a willing partner.



And slowly, ever so slowly, the ice around her tiny soul began to crack.

The faked smiles gradually became real.

The need to push away became hugs that one by one, held on tighter.

It has been a long road.

And one we still walk at times. When rocking her, Peanut never wanted me to touch the bare skin on her back. She always complained that it was "owie" and would quickly pull her shirt back down. Then last week, without thinking I once again began to trace my fingers across the softness of my daughter's skin as we cuddled. It was minutes later that it hit me. She wasn't protesting. She had relaxed. Completely. She was letting me in to another, more intimate, part of her heart. I stopped and she pushed my hand back onto her skin.

"More mommy".

"Scratch my back mommy".



We accepted Peanut and Jellybean's referrals within a day of each other. One came home quickly, the other continues to live away from us. But because this little one had 11 months of mommy and daddy all to herself, what has unfolded has been incredible. The little girl that once tried so hard to protect herself emotionally, has let all those barriers come down. And she has built new walls.

She is confident and outgoing, but strongly attached and secure in her foundation. She knows deep down in her heart, that mommy is staying.


Mommy won't leave.



Ever.

And so we continue to wait for our little boy. Knowing that God in His omnipotence knows the right time. And like my daughter, I am learning that it's ok to trust, even when you don't understand. That hands much bigger than yours, hold you fast and long to hold you closer. That love isn't "owie", but it does take work. That it's ok to let Him in to the deepest parts of my emotions. That I can't push Him away.

That God is perfect and that as surely as I love my own daughter, He too loves His.

And that makes all the difference.

I can wait.