Today marks 6 weeks in Nigeria.
I should be focused on being happy that we’ve had Ruth for over 5 weeks now, but honestly, my thoughts are just turned towards home and how badly I want to be there. I grossly underestimated the difficulty level of being here without Shane. And missing my sweet, sweet boy.
When we committed to adopting Ruth, we were told it could take up to 3 months, but we’re also told that it was unlikely that would happen. But even so, we barreled through to get to Ruth. I told myself, and anyone who would ask, that staying in Nigeria by myself wouldn’t be a big deal. Now that I’m in the trenches, I can see how adopting from this country could EASILY take 3 months. And I’m experiencing how big of a deal being here alone truly is. But I’m praying- and I know everyone else is, too- that we see first hand a miracle. I am holding onto hope that God will get us home soon. I really struggle with this, as the few times things I’ve really hoped for so far have fallen through, and that’s been almost unbearable. I get how hope can be viewed as poisonous, but still with all the disappointment, I believe hope is from God.
There have been too many tragedies happen at home that are forcing me to put my situation into perspective. I may be in a dark place, but my family is safe. I may be separated from my husband and son and family, but they’re all healthy. I may be alone, but I have a wonderful support system, and my loneliness is just temporary. The daughter I once prayed for is here; and although our relationship has been far from what I envisioned, I have the seasoned advice from adoptive parent friends who are praying us through.
I’m enduring some extremely loud music as the church behind our current residence celebrates the new year. And fireworks pepper the air from the opposite direction. This, first of all, promises I’ll get no sleep tonight (Nigerians don’t have short parties that end at 9 p.m. like yours truly). And second, forces me to remember that all things become new under the care of our Heavenly Father. He is continuing a work in me, and he won’t quit. New year, new me, right? (More like, New day, new me, sometimes…)
I simply have one New Year’s resolution, and that is to GET HOME. When that happens is up to God, and although I am sorely disappointed it wasn’t sooner, I’m trying to remember that He knows best- even when it makes no sense to me.
Happy New Year. I hope you can reflect on the amazing things that have happened in 2017 and praise God for them. And for the terrible things that may have happened, I hope you continue to have faith that God works all things out to the good of those called according to his purpose.