That's what you get.
It's pretty much the story of my life.
I have believed, for as long as I can remember, that we all have two choices in life. When bad things happen, we can generally respond in one of two ways:
1) we can allow them to define us, to cause a change in our course, to break us down, to reduce our hope;
2) we can use them as fuel, propelling us forward to something we cant yet see, believing that something of value can (eventually) evolve, that they themselves can in fact be the source of hope.
I have often shared that perspective when I am telling my "life story", specifically when I get to the part where I am about 15 years old. It was one of the darkest times of my life. I was struggling with my first serious episode of depression; questioning why certain things had happened to me, confused about how I never quite seemed to "fit", grasping for what the purpose in my life was. I wanted to run away...maybe not even exist anymore. It's part of why I went into social work.
What happened next I can only describe as a "God moment".
I felt something take over me.
I was on my knees on my bedroom floor, crying. Then I experienced the first real sense of 'power' over my life that I had ever felt. Not only did I now know that there was, somewhere, a purpose for what I had endured, that some beauty could come from these ashes, and that, as cliche as it sounds, there was a light at the end of the tunnel BUT ALSO, I knew in my core that I got to choose between two roads.
1) I could become hateful, angry and unmotivated. I could easily play the victim card like I saw others do. I could continue to give away my power, one choice at a time;
2) OR I could forgive and then fight with everything I had to do and be something different. To be better because of it! To not let my past win.
It's free will! I get to choose. Only I can choose.
So why am I sharing this?
See, what 99.9% of you reading this don't know, is that back in November, I began struggling through the new darkest depression I have faced. It came fast and it hit hard. Very hard. It lodged itself deeper into my life than ever before. It's shaken me to my core and has had ripple effects across my life.
And while that whole story is probably too long to ever share on this blog (but maybe someday in the book Chad thinks I'm going to write!) I hope that for a moment you can put aside any judgements you may have about the reality of depression or it's cause or how someone who seems like they have such a great life could possibly have ANYTHING to be depressed about....and just hear my story. Maybe we can talk more about those things later. :) Thanks.
So specifically relating to our adoption, the weight of this wait (see what I did there?!?!? Bahahaha) has been extra difficult since coming back from our trip in March. I have found myself saying to God, "Come on, I'm dyin' here!". (Now, to be clear, I haven't been lying about the peace and the trust I've felt. Seriously! Maybe it's another juxtaposition?)
But the heaviness has been real and the wars waging inside of me have been fierce. As I've been climbing out of the fog, Ive been asking familiar questions. What is the purpose of my life? Is my life what I wanted it to be? Have I gotten stuck (personally, professionally, spiritually, relationally)? What is God calling me to do next and how do I know that it's His voice and not just one of my own natural instincts to fight or run?
"Why God, is this taking SO long? Seriously. I'm dyin' here."
So where is this going???
I havent been to a morning service at Madison in a long time. Yesterday, we went to the early service and I was excited! I felt so alive. And I knew why as soon as Pastor Beelen explained that today's message was about trusting God's timing (You can hear the entire sermon from 5/4/14 here).
He explained that if it feels like God is taking His sweet time, "committing divine malpractice", then we can be sure of one thing: that we dont have all the facts! We just cant see as deep and as wide as He can. In my arrogance, I impose my schedule and if I continue to do that, I will continue to struggle to feel loved by Him. Funny how our ability to feel love and belonging and purpose can be so tainted by our own expectations.
He went on to say that we really only have two choices: to trust or to die. Well, that seemed a little extreme. But then he told a story of a shepherd in Whales who, to keep his sheep from dying from a fast-spreading parasite plague, had to completely submerge them in a antiseptic bath. As he held their entire body under water for those few seconds, the sheep thrashed violently, eyes-wide, certain that they were dying. There was literally no way for the shepherd to communicate that he was actually saving their lives! The communication intelligence gap was just too great.
How true is that for me? And maybe for you???
Every now and then I feel like I'm drowning. Like it's one baby step from being too much. But yesterday I was reminded that I have a choice. I can trust or I can die.
I can continue to say to God "Hurry, I'm dying here!!!" and feel the weight of my own panic pull me down further or I can say "I trust." Here. In this minute, in this second, in this millisecond if that's all I can do.
A weight lifted from me.
I love explaining the adoption process and telling people where we are and what has to happen next.
But I need to make a change. I can't continue to answer the question, "when is Kwe coming home?" with the same weary, discouraged, robotic timeline description. THAT is what's killing me! Instead I choose life and trust!
I dont know what God is cooking up. I'll probably never see all the pieces of the puzzle. Geez, the outline is barely together! I'm out of the darkest part though and I do think I'm stronger because of it. I choose to be stronger.
And I do know that if this had been smooth and easy and fast, I wouldnt have met all these amazing people, I wouldnt have quite as clear a picture of who our TRUE friends and family are and I certainly wouldnt be learning as much about myself, about dependence, about patience... or about trust.
