Friday, January 15, 2010

In Need of Peace

There have been people who have said that they've seen an incredible faith displayed by our family throughout the past ten and a half months. I'm just here to say that there has also been incredible doubt.

Doubt, initially, that we were doing the right thing.
Doubt in the legal system.
Doubt that we would win.
Doubt that we would lose.
Doubt that I'd survive this.

But doubt that my Lord is in this thing with us, never.

On a bad day, I'm fighting fear.

I'm afraid because I've heard my God say no before. And I know that if he says no there will be a reason--a very important reason--why. But knowing it and feeling it are two very different things. Living it, another thing altogether. I'm panicking under the weight of what I'll do if the answer to this child staying in our family is, simply, no.

I shouldn't panic. It is not the Lord's will for me to panic. Anxiety is not trusting in my Savior with all my heart. I trust that he knows the plans he has for me. I trust that they are plans to prosper me and not to harm me. I trust that some day, regardless of the outcome, it will all be okay. But I'm caught wondering how. I know, intellectually, that if we lose him I will keep breathing. I just can't comprehend how my lungs would possibly remember how to function. There would be so much trauma to my heart that I fear my lungs would be devastatingly compromised.

But I do believe that there would be a peace that passed all understanding. My Savior, who defied death, said himself, "I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world."*

On a good day I allow myself to imagine us standing before a judge in Utah as he finalizes our adoption, as he gives validation to what we already know: We are a family. On a good day I picture Matthew when he is Garrett's age. In my imagination I see him propel himself into our bed on a lazy morning. I see his curly head poke up out of the covers. He grins and burrows into my side, "Can I cuddle, Mommy?"

On a good day I see a vision of him at ten, diving under the Christmas tree for his last present. I see him at sixteen, smiling behind the wheel of a car. I see myself hyperventilating but that's really neither here nor there. I see him with a diploma. I see him on his wedding day and I long to dance with him. And then I see him holding my grandchild. On a good day, my dreams are full of hope and opportunity.

On a good day I am not worried about his birth father visiting next weekend. I'm not afraid of what will happen. I'm not the least bit concerned that he's bringing a family member with him. I'm not scared about how he'll react when Matthew smiles a gummy grin at Troy and shouts, "Dada!" On a good day I believe that it will all be okay.

But last night I lost sleep thinking about what could happen. Last night I was afraid. Last night, I had doubts. Last night, as I fitfully tried to sleep, I prayed for Matthew and, eventually, I prayed for sleep to consume me. And finally, at 2:00 am, with my mind still reeling in a thousand directions, I rested.

*John 16:33


  1. I cannot imagine what I would do if I was a parent to a child that I was not sure I would be able to keep forever. You all are in my prayers. I pray for a quick resolution to this, and peace for both sides.

  2. Know that I am praying for your son to stay YOUR son, but most of all, for peace...Yeshua's perfect peace.

  3. I continue to pray for you.

    Thank you for sharing that favorite - which I return to more than probably necessary is Matthew 6:34.

    I pray for your peace of mind next weekend.

  4. This is heartbreaking...I know God cares for you so much. I'll pray His care is always apparent and that you can rest in Him no matter what happens!

  5. Wishing only the good stuff for you, your family and that little baby boy.

    You are an inspirational person.

  6. oh Lori I am so sorry. I know some of the emotions and feeling associated with adoption and fear of disruption, but I don't know what you know, not the depth, nor the length. You are in my thoughts and my prayers. There aren't words to comfort other than the ones you know as Truth...loving you from Oklahoma...praying for Matthew...and your mommy heart. Hang in there...

  7. I have been there. At least I think I have. I tend to watch saying "I know how you feel" yet... somehow I think we both DO know how the other feels.
    There are days that I cannot even go there.....
    Then days, like you, where I realize that I would "survive"........
    Daily, daily, daily, give it to Him.
    Then give it back to him.
    Then, in Jesus NAME you claim that Matthew is yours and that you will raise him under the authority of Jesus Christ.
    The Lord brought him to you, you claim that He keeps him with you.

  8. I know if the worst comes to pass, you will have many thoughts and memories to comfort you, along with your vast faith. But none of those wonderful blessings are bandages that will close the wound that will rend your heart. I don't want to think about how much it will hurt to see you suffer that. So I keep hoping that this will all work out in your favor, because it's too heavy for me to contemplate it NOT working out. For you and for Matthew.

  9. This brought tears to my eyes...I just started following your blog after following Karsies for a while now and I as an African American mom and christian, pray that sweet Matthew gets to stay with the only mom and dad that he knows...Color does not matter, it's what's in the heart.