because we love her

this morning i walked up monkey hill.  it was cool and had just finished raining and i could see far.  i needed that.  i needed to see far and far off and over things.  i needed to see how much life is happening around me.  that mine is one small piece.  one little part, because it was a week of big things. 

two years ago i began to fall in love with rose.  a year and a half ago she came to live with us.  i had forgotten that i knew how messy this was before she walked into our home. but i did. i knew and then i forgot.  i forgot that it might always be unclear and murky and complicated.  i forgot that she might never actually be my daughter- well- legally. i forgot that we were living in a new normal- a 'not ideal'.  i forgot that it is very broken- and that we entered that- willingly.

for the past year i've been going about my business.  i've been not focusing on the stress of having a very unresolved situation with one of my kids.  the stress of possibly never being able to take her out of this country.  the stress of having to live in a place of unsettled.  of losing the freedom of being able to just pick up and go- because going would mean leaving someone behind.

this week we heard that rosies birth mom didn't want us to have legal custody of her.  we heard that she'd changed her mind again- that we needed to meet- she wanted to see rose- the birth dad did too.  so i pulled out the reality of my life from where i'd hid it, somewhere safely out of reach.  it wasn't pretty and it didn't feel good at all- but there it was.  i went to pick up rose from school that afternoon and the moment i saw her smile i began to weep.  i picked her up and then i began to sob while hurrying to the car.

"why are you crying mommy?"
"because i love you so much."

because i love her so much.  that is the same messy truth from two years ago.  that is what seemed and still seems to matter most.  sometimes we enter into things that might even appear foolish - but i think when we do them out of love- out of trying for betterment- out of 'it's not perfect but it's something'- then it has goodness.  it has beauty.  it has beautiful brokenness.

we went to the meeting. we dressed nicely and we went to the babies home and rose saw her old 'aunties' and where she slept and ate and bathed and everyone oohhed and ahhed over how big and healthy she was.  then we waited.  we waited for two hours for her birth parents to arrive.  we waited for those moments when the giant bag of emotions - the ones that had been conveniently and possibly necessarily stuffed away- to leap into the present and sit in my heart so much so that i wonder if i can breathe.

when they finally arrived and rose's birth mom carried her to our meeting room and sat her on her again pregnant lap- i bit my lip and i looked hard out the window.  i really didn't want to cry but how could i not? i looked around the room and i listened as the greetings started and the translations began english to luganda to karamajong and back again.  if only there could be a translator for the great cultural divide.  if only our words weren't the only barrier.  if only we could not sit across from each other looking so very black and so very white and the color of our skin being only second to our words. if only we could exchange our years, the things we've seen or not seen or felt or heard or known or not know.

we sat for over an hour of discussion, debate, attempting to cross that great gap- to bridge our worlds- to reach some understanding of what is best for this little girl sitting in the middle of it all.  it felt like one of those bad after-school specials that i would have cried through- but i was sitting in it- desperately wanting to know the outcome. but.  there was no outcome.  the space between was too great.  we split to regather next week- for an answer, a decision.  who will be the legal guardians for rose? 

this is huge.  this is life changing.  we've all agreed that mike and i should and will raise rose but whether she'll ever be 'our' daughter- our legal child- share our name- or even travel with us- that is up in the air.  and i felt this- all of it. 

then i remembered.  we walked down this path knowing that it was full of holes and darkness.  we walked down this path despite all that.  we walked down this path because what mattered most was that we loved her- even though- we loved her. 

i've come to know that God likes to keep me in places of waiting- places where there is nothing to hold on to except Her hand. places where my little grappling hands can't get around the situation because it's too big.  places where i have to lean on others.  places where i have to be vulnerable and see-through and naked.  God likes to give me seasons of 'not yet'.  of 'do you trust me?' of 'you have no idea what i'm doing- but i do.  God likes for me to remember that i am but a sheep. 

the grace is that we are held in this- all of us.  the grace is that i can only see a few feet ahead of me,  too far might be too hard.  the grace is in knowing that Gods love and provision for rose are way better than mine.  that light is promised in darkness. 

every day we are reborn into a new day. and that is hope.

this week i will stay in the place of knowing and i will pray for patience and for being okay with the unknown and for gray and for trust.  i will pray for rose's birth mom to trust us and that i will forgive her quickly if she doesn't.  i will pray that what is best for rose will happen and that we will all be given the grace to walk whatever that path may be.   small steps.  small breaths.  and joy.  i will pray for joy and to never forget that all our stories are complicated and complicated things are amazing.  that God is in the business of amazing- of miracle- of huge and tremendous and that no matter what- it will be okay- because we love her.