Go South, Young Man

We started our adoption process in the Spring of 2007. An exciting adventure, one I looked forward to but had me scared silly. Our goal was to adopt two children from Kenya, siblings as per the law, both 4 years of age or under. These past 2 and a half years I've thought of nothing more than those two children. Slowly the months passed on, and nothing. No confirmations, no letters, phone calls or emails of encouragement, anything that could shed some light on the proceedings. It felt like everything had ground to a halt but no one knew it. All our communiques with Kenya go through our adoption agency, Sunrise (sunriseadoption.com), a great group of people eager to help those hoping, wishing, desiring to have children in their lives. Unfortunately, the updates we got from Kenya were few and far between. Just this past June, I received a call from Sunrise advising me that Kenya had approved us... for one child. Two just couldn't be done. Bitterness, anger, frustration, tears, confusion. My goal through this journey was faithfulness. Trusting that God would honor our faithfulness in Him, and that He would provide us with these two children from this place. Once I was able to, I dunno, process the information, I could sit back and take inventory. I found myself in the same, wonderful position - nothing had changed. My goal was to still be faithful, because God had not changed His plans. His time is not mine, and what I think is best is not always what He knows is best. Anyway, I knew I had to continue this walk, being as proactive as I could, all the while trusting that God would deliver the goods to us. And please be aware, when I say I, I most certainly mean "we"; my darling wife and I have weathered this together the whole way, and there is no other way to do it. We will celebrate our 10th anniversary in October, and out of my 34 and some years, they have been the best. My beautiful bride is a great source of love and strength and tenderness when I need them. And I need my share of those things.

So we had a meeting a few weeks ago with Doug, the director of Sunrise. Through the last few years, he had been sending out emails to a number of his clients stating that, "A newborn has just come into this world in the US that needs adoption; if you are interested, contact us." There were always more details, of course, but I would push those aside thinking, "No no, our babes are coming from Kenya." "Who says?", I now think to myself. In our meeting, we spoke in depth with Doug about the situations - ours and Kenyas. Kenya, being in Africa, plays by different rules. Things go slower, much, much slower. Communication is limited, and frankly, none of us knows what's going on. These poor folks at Sunrise want so desperately to place children in all of these homes but cannot, and they don't know why. Their frustration was palpable, and in the middle of what I was feeling, I found myself feeling for them as well, not being able to do the jobs they set out to do. As for our situation, there was a bright and shiny side to the murk - like floating in a bog face down for two years and then one day deciding... to roll over. There was the light. Doug - who is a warm, sensitive and extremely capable man suggested to us that we might look to the US for our adoption. K and I decided it was a great option. This idea of course was completely new to us after the time and energy we'd spent on Kenya - spiritual and emotional energy spent, drained. But Doug walked us through a number of options. I said to him very plainly, "You have 20-plus years of experience. I want to choose what you would choose."

And so now, we have opened up our adoption to the US - South Carolina, specifically - and although there are no promises, we could have a child within 4 to 6 months. And I mean a newborn, just days old. So, we are excited about this. It's unfortunate that I'm at this stage where I don't feel as much joy as I would think I should, but my hopes aren't ready to soar too high just yet. That time will come and I will be ecstatic and a blubbering, teary mess no doubt. Now, there's nothing I think of more than our little babe in our arms.