In the adoption world, delays are expected - especially when you're adopting internationally. When we chose the Korea program, I was impressed with the way everything was laid out. The timeline looked so nice and neatly packaged. We would start out as number 12 on the list of families waiting for boys, and steadily move up the list until we were at the top, probably within about 8-10 months. Then, we would receive our referral and wait to travel to pick up Leonard child #4.

And we were expecting delays.

What we weren't expecting was to be at #7 now, and to hear from our agency that we could expect our referral in as little as two months!

Now, I'm all about getting our referral as soon as possible (although I know once we have a face and a name, it will be very difficult to have to wait to go pick up our little goober). The problem is my faith. See, it's a little...lacking. At best.

Two months doesn't leave me much time to be the hero and figure our how we can "miraculously" scrounge up $17,000. It's not like I'll find that under our couch cushions! It doesn't leave room for the fundraisers we'd planned because those take 8-10 weeks just for approval, and we're still waiting on the last bit of paperwork to come in the mail for our application! It doesn't leave room for much of anything, because things take time in the world of fundraising, and our adoption timeline was supposed to line up nicely with that.

But as I shake my fist at the God who called us to visit orphans in their distress, I remember what it means that He is God. This wasn't my idea; it was His first. So my fist has to drop to my lap as I hang my head and open my hands to Him.

Do you ever see a verse written somewhere and know that God was sending that straight to your heart? I got one of those yesterday. Actually, I got the same one twice, from two different sources:

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid." - John 14:27

So we'll wait on God to act, because to Him, it doesn't matter if we have two years or two days. Two months? Makes no difference. God knows we need help to do this. He knows we can't carry this burden on our own shoulders in this short amount of time. He knows that I tend to get stressed about money - because I don't trust Him the way that I should. He knows our weakest points, and uses them for His glory.

So I'm praying like crazy that our Father will look on us with favor and that He will equip us to go, right on time. And He has given me His peace.

8 weeks.

When we decided to move forward with adoption from Korea, we moved quickly and diligently, the way I believe God calls us to move when He's shown us where to go. Within a day we had filled out all of our paperwork for our application, written a check for a rather large amount of money (not to be confused with the very large amount of money still to come), and sent everything off in the mail with a prayer. On September 23, our agency sent word that they'd received our check and would be sending our request for approval to Korea the following week.

And then? We waited. The three weeks we were expecting our approval to take quickly passed, and the days kept getting crossed off the calendar as we continued work, homeschooling, laundry, cooking, cleaning, photography, bedtimes, and all the other things that make our days normal. But in the busy-ness of life, we were waiting.

_Doubts come often in the waiting.

When things don't follow my timeline and I have to remember who's God and who's not.

Honestly, sometimes it's harder to stand through a drought than a storm.


Last Thursday was a difficult day. Dustin and I were both weary after a long week. Ironically, when you feel down-trodden, it's the hardest time to be on your guard, and I'm pretty sure we were both objects of spiritual attack. It wasn't attack regarding adoption, but rather the temptation to give up on the everyday struggles. Just for one day. Just take a break; you deserve it...

In our weakness, God was our strength. He brought us to His Word, and in chapter after chapter we were reminded that God is good; life is hard; and there will be an end to these struggles. When that end comes, I want to know that we were faithful in the big things and the small things.

"The LORD your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save;
he will rejoice over you with gladness; He will quiet you by his love;
he will exult over you with loud singing."
Zephaniah 3:17

Friday the email we've been waiting for showed up in our inbox while I was working at the computer. I'd like to say that I saw the little envelope in the right-hand corner of the screen pop up and I knew instantly that this was what we'd been waiting for - and I did! But I also knew it every other time it had popped up in the last 8 weeks. So I held my breath and opened it, wondering if it would bear the news that we'd been accepted by Korea--that we were considered good enough by whoever-it-is-over-there-with-the-rubber-stamp--and would be officially placed on the waiting list.

I'm normally what my mom calls "stoic," but this even-keeled heart was bursting at the seems as I read that Korea had officially accepted us as a waiting family--and, to top things off, that we were now number 9 on the waiting list with our agency! It seems that while God's been working half the world away, causing the right events to happen in the best time so that we can bring our child home exactly in His time, I've had to trust that He hasn't forgotten.

To be still. To wait. To know that the story He's writing is better than the story I would write, because He knows each chapter and each character intimately, and in His wisdom each piece of this messy story will fit together perfectly--for His glory.

So now, at number 9 on the list of families waiting to call a little Korean boy "son," we wait again.

We choose to trust that He will provide everything that we need, and that the God who sets the lonely in families delights in this story He is penning.

As an English major in college, when people talked to me about my degree it was usually accompanied by a look of sympathy and dread for my future. The concern of my friends, family, and random bystanders making conversation inevitably led to further questioning, which led to what, exactly, I was studying.

My emphasis within my major was on research, grammar, and communication. Literature? Eh, it's nice when I need a break. But what I really enjoy is spending hours pouring over what others have written to search for truth and then postulate my own opinions on where that truth leads, and why. I also wondered how -a writer persuades his readers to believe him. How does one effectively communicate with a variety of audiences? These were the questions burning in my mind as I wandered from class to class. My brain hovers in the place where liberal arts meets NERD.
Needless to say, I was pretty much alone on my track within my major. The nerds tended to congregate on the opposite side of the university campus - where all the engineering and science courses were. I was comfortable there, but I'd say the word, "English," and get nothing but blank stares. The same would happen on my own side of the woods when I'd mention my love for grammar and research, most English (literature) students' two greatest fears.

College is almost a decade in my past, but my love of research continues. This is why it took months and months for us to choose the country we were going to adopt from. Since Dustin's at work for most of the day, I took it upon myself (sort of grabbed it for myself, I guess you could say) to research all of the countries we were eligible to adopt from. Dustin graciously gave me that. And true to the definition of nerd, I used a spreadsheet to categorize the pros and cons of each adoption program, and then another spreadsheet to rank various adoption agencies according to certain criteria that Dustin and I agreed were important to us and for our adoption journey.

The frustrating thing was that I felt that, no matter how much research I did; no matter how many hours I spent on the phone with agencies; and no matter how much I wanted the answer of where we should go to be staring me in the face, glowing in neon letters, it just wasn't there. We prayed intensely for over a year that God would open and close doors. And He was faithful. He showed us through various means (like Ethiopia drastically reducing the number of adoptions they were processing - the week we planned to submit our application) that He has a plan for us. But while we wait (I'm not good at waiting) for Him to bring all the details together, we've had quite an adventure exploring our options - and improved our sense of geography at the same time. You can read more about how we chose Korea in the post  "Chapter 2 - A Rest at the Starting Line."

Here's a little glimpse at what our path has looked like so far:

(I'm thankful that the trip has been only in our minds and hearts so far, and we haven't had to pay for all that travel!)

Five and a half weeks ago, we submitted our paperwork to the agency we chose, and they promptly sent it off to the Korean government (or whoever it is in Korea who gets to say that we're either acceptable or unacceptable parents for one of their precious children). We were told that the average wait to hear back is 3 weeks. Two and a half weeks over what we thought we'd be waiting may not seem like much, but it's almost double what we expected. And, I'm not good at waiting!

I'm stuck. We're in this limbo between knowing where we plan to adopt from, and actually being on the waiting list of families. There's no research I can do to make things move along. No phone calls I can make to find out what the holdup is. The ball is completely out of our court. In fact, it's so far gone that we can't even see it. Not even a tiny speck.

So I've had to take comfort in the Word. I've had to remind myself that I am not in control. To be still and know who is God. To be stuck and to be still are two very different things, but God is refining me. He is teaching me that when I am stuck, all my writhing and wiggling and frustration does not remove the fact that He is going before us. My job is to follow. To walk after Him, but to wait when He tells me to. And to remember who He is.

"The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still." Exodus 14:14

I love that God is God. He always know when we need to be refreshed, even when I don't see it. A week ago was one of those times of encouragement and renewal as we were in Albuquerque photographing adoptive families.

*A little background: Dustin and I decided about a year and a half ago that we would use all proceeds from our photography business, Thousandth Word Photography, on behalf of orphans. Since dedicating our photography to that purpose, we've had the opportunity to use our equipment and talent in cooperation with the Christian Alliance for Orphans. We also provide free family photo sessions to adoptive families as a ministry to them, as they minister to these special children. Our last project was done with a double purpose: first, to bless a few of the adoptive families we've come to know in Albuquerque; and second, to provide Hope for Orphans with photographs to use within their ministry.

These families have been so supportive of us as we've begun the adoption process - some by sharing wisdom learned from experience; some by helping us talk through decisions; and some just by being visible examples of the gospel lived out. If you wonder what adoption looks like after the paperwork is over and it's lived out in everyday life, take a few moments to look at these beautiful examples.

"Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." Matthew 11:28-30

Thursday.
This was the weekend we'd scheduled to finish our home visits - the last step before our home study could be completed (other than choosing a country!!). The drive to Albuquerque was relatively painless, although since we took Dustin's car for gas efficiency, we were stuck without air conditioning. Driving at 75mph with the windows down makes for really loud conversation, alternating with windy silence. And messy hair. We came into town late, and had just enough time to talk with our good friends, who faithfully share their home with us on our trips to Albuquerque, for about 10 minutes before we all crashed.

Friday.
A little background information: about a week and a half ago, a man who is very involved in the adoption and orphan care arenas (and who has helped answer serious questions I had about various forms of adoption), asked Dustin and I via email if we'd considered adopting from Asia. I answered with a lengthy reply about how no, we hadn't considered Asia. And how it would require a much larger amount of money to be raised than we were anticipating with the other programs we were considering. And how it would mean that the already difficult decision-making process would be made even more complicated. And how it would require even more stretching of our faith than the countries we were currently considering. And how all of that probably meant that God would send us to Asia. So yes, please, send us the information. One dot.

Friday afternoon we had our individual interviews to complete our end of the home study. After meeting with our case worker, she told us, "I think you should adopt from Korea. It's a good program for you."

Hmm. Korea. I can tell you quite a bit about adopting from Ethiopia. I know all about domestic adoption. And I'm very familiar with what the process looks like in Uganda. But Korea? Dustin and I looked at each other, wondering what God was doing. Another dot.

Friday evening we had a parenting class for adoptive parents, which was beyond helpful. It soothed many of our fears, and allowed us to talk with other couples who were in the midst of the adoption process. We talked through issues of race, attachment disorders, adopting at various ages, the grief process, sibling jealousy, and what the first few months might look like. After that meeting I felt like we had a net beneath us, which made me feel a lot more willing to fall, and a lot more ready to take that first step toward placement.

Saturday.
We attended an informational meeting about adoption from South Korea and China. And we learned a few things.

• It happens that China and Korea recently changed their requirements for international adoptive families.
• It happens that these new requirements will keep all families from New Mexico from adopting from China and Korea, since none of the agencies working on home studies within our state meet the new requirements.
• But it also happens that there is an agency in Colorado that does meet these new requirements, and they've gotten special permission from the Korean and Chinese governments to work with one agency in NM,
• Which happens to be our agency.

Connecting the dots.

Dustin and I spent some good time on our knees before God that night, asking Him to continue to make His will clear to us, and to give us the courage and faith to step forward when He wanted us to move.

Sunday.
I felt like a celebrity at church when I met a new friend who asked if we were the ones having trouble making a decision about which country to adopt from. Wow, my decision-making capabilities are famous (I won't pull Dustin into that label; he's been patiently waiting for me to quit freaking out)! She suggested that we just choose a country and GO - as in, start working on all of the paperwork and fundraising for that particular country, not as in just go to the country and snag a child from an orphanage.

She explained that when she and her husband first started working on their adoption process, they were waiting for a little girl from China. They now have two sweet daughters from Ethiopia, and one precious boy from China. Still no girl from China. But they are blessed as an adoptive family, and if they'd been stubborn about choosing their way and sticking to it, they'd still be waiting...waiting to be a forever family to a little girl who may never be theirs. And all the while there were three children they didn't expect to bring home who have made their family a beautiful picture of love, and of surrender to God's will.

So, she said, GO. And don't be surprised if God changes things up on you while you're going.

While I've enjoyed researching endlessly and coming up with every possible adoption scenario for our family, from every available country, there are times when I just need Dustin to say, "This is what I want to do. If you feel comfortable with it, let's go with it." And that's what he did with South Korea. SIGH OF RELIEF. Yes, I feel great about it. My typical tendency to freak out seems to be completely gone and I feel a comforting and blanketing sense of peace about this program, in spite of its risks; let's go!

The main risk: Korea has been aiming toward shutting its doors to international adoption for several years now. Their current goal is to have all adoptions completed within its own borders by the end of 2012. This means we need prayer - that God will cause our name to keep climbing the list steadily, that our His provision through our fundraising will blow us out of the water, and that we can complete this process before it's too late.

Monday.
I contacted the representative from the Colorado agency and asked a few more nagging questions. She responded quickly to all four of my emails (blush) within just a few minutes, and reassuringly answered all of my questions. She's a patient woman, I can tell already.

Tuesday.
We got all of our initial paperwork together, printed a family picture at a local drugstore, wrote a check for the deposit, and sent it all up to Colorado. Once we are approved to continue in the program, we'll send the rest of the materials up for Phase I and officially be on the waiting list.

The waiting list for Korea.

The waiting list for a little boy.

And now to start thinking about names...

The Home Study.

For some reason, those words seem daunting. When we decided to pursue adoption, we'd heard about the stacks of paperwork that needed to be compiled, and as we checked off items on our list (I actually made an excel spreadsheet and listed each thing we needed to sign, fill out, or copy, along with a spot to check it off once we'd done it; yes, I am that nerdy), I kept waiting to see what else we needed to do. It just didn't feel like this was the tree's worth of paper we thought we'd have to work through. It really wasn't that bad!

We completed the paperwork fairly quickly - although the questions about our childhoods, medical history, past hair-dying experiences, etc. seemed fairly tedious and, frankly, narcissistic. After that it was just a matter of waiting for the home visits (I was uncharacteristically calm about this part, despite the fact that I had previously scared myself into thinking that a total stranger would come into our home and scrutinize our furniture placement, tile color, and child-rearing techniques). We're halfway through those now (we need four, total), and I can truthfully say that it's been a painless process.

And then what? It seems like we should have a plan in place. An agency ready to receive our quasi-tree, so that we can then be dubbed "a waiting family." But the truth is, we're not even 100% sure which country we're adopting from! The people who have been there before assure me that the time will come when we'll know what to do. "Finish the home study," they say, "and wait for God to reveal the next step to you."

I'll confess that part of me is hoping we'll attend our meetings, and there will be magical sparks and chimes in the air as we hear the name of the country God has chosen for us, spoken randomly by someone we've never even met. And the other part of me thinks that we'll finish the home study and still know nothing about what to do next. That, in fact, we may never know what to do next and we'll be stuck in the land of finished home studies but not yet waiting families, possibly forever.

I'm leaning more toward the magical sparks than no-man's-land.

What can I say? I'm a poetry or non-fiction kind of girl. There's not much room for middle ground, rationalized thinking in my world.