Crickets

We are in the dog days of summer here in the South. I've always loved summer. The combination of humidity, peaches, the smell of chlorine in your hair and late nights playing in the yard after dinner is irresistible to me. We've done swim team and vacation and now we are settled in a pattern of staying up late and sleeping in and blessed boredom has set in inspiring the kids to plan a playmobil city, build forts with boxes and put major mileage on their bikes and scooters. I can almost feel Fall starting to creep in with a few random leaves turning colors and seeing other kids heading back to school. I'm not ready! I love every second of all of us being together so much this summer and I'm not ready for it to be over!

We decided to take a quick overnight camping trip over the weekend. It was actually the first time we have tent camped and wanted to do a trial run with a paper and pen in hand to write down all of the stuff we need for future trips. We had a wonderful time and made a longish list of what we need next time! As we all tried to go to sleep that night in our tent someone said "I can't sleep! The crickets are too loud!!". I laughed remembering my first nights away at camp as a child and how loud the crickets were in our open air cabins and how that took getting used to! It also struck a cord for me because that is the phrase I have used to describe the movement/news in our adoption process for the last few months . . . nothing . . . crickets.

We were excited to get all of our paperwork logged in at the end of May. There is a long story of how we thought we had found a little girl on the "waiting child" list right around this time. I will save that story for another time because it is really difficult to tell and one that I had hoped we wouldn't have to as part of our adoption journey. As we moved past that situation we hoped to find our little girl soon but we've heard nothing. We have been told it can take up 6-9 months to be matched with a younger girl with a mild medical need but we thought our age range was a little wider and perhaps our medical needs list was a little longer so we didn't really think it would take that long. I saw many friends matched within days of their log in with children that were definitely similar age and medical need to what we are hoping for. The list comes out twice a month and I hold my breath, pray and get the email "I'm sorry to tell you that you have not been matched . . ." It is like seeing a negative pregnancy test.

So it's been tough. I've had to throw our "timeline" out the window. We've had to juggle vacation schedules and conferences and other commitments not knowing when we might be traveling to bring our daughter home. I guess I felt a bit of control in that. That is gone now. I would always say we hoped to have her home by then end of the year. Now I know that is not going to happen and it is tough. The journey to our 4th child has not happened on any kind of timeline similar to how I would have planned it! But the truth is I'm not in control and this is not "my" timeline. I am clinging to the hope and promise that God is in control of the ultimate timeline (which, by the way, is a whole lot longer than mine - as in eternity). My hope is in Him who is so much bigger than I am and sees all of time not just my vapor of a life. So, I'm waiting knowing that I am in very good company as there are many, many examples of people waiting throughout scripture. His word is encouraging and inspiring in the place that I am right now.

It seems odd because as I'm waiting instead of looking forward and living in the future I am so much more focused on each precious moment. I am so very, very grateful for each passing day and the time I have with my children. It does go by fast as the cliche says and I am intent on not missing out on the absolute wonder that each day is being a mother to children this age. I have hope that there will be another child in our family and her story will be grafted into our family in a miraculous way that only God can ordain. Until then we wait.

As I lie in my tent the other night listening to the crickets I was comforted. The cricket song is strangely beautiful. Not melodious by any means but longing, monotonous, loud and overwhelming . . . kind of the way my heart feels right now. I woke up pre dawn in the twilight and noticed the cricket song had died down. The sun was rising and the cricket song was fading. It was still there but much, much softer. Perhaps that is where we are and I don't even know it yet. Maybe, just maybe the dawn is coming the crickets are being silenced and we will awake to the news of our daughter soon.