The Longest Month of the Year

I haven’t been completely honest with you.  In actuality, David and I have been withholding information in the hopes that more details would be revealed to us soon.  Since that hasn’t happened yet, I’m going to give you the lowdown on these difficult circumstances as best as I can.

The country of Ethiopia is in the midst of some legislation calling for adoption reform.  Sounds great, right?  Of course it does.  But the problem is that “reform” can mean a multitude of things.  

-More screenings and paperwork ensuring orphans in country ARE in fact orphans and have no living family members available to care for them.  

-More rigorous testing for agencies and orphanages to prove they are above board, that every child is being handled properly.  

-More searching for foster families within Ethiopia, so that children are able to stay in the country of their birth.  

Yes, when you put it that way, it seems awesome.  All those things in their purest sense would be extremely beneficial for the many orphaned and abandoned children in Ethiopia.  And that is EXACTLY what we want!

But the other side of the issue is this: Much of this legislation was fueled forward by several unfortunate international adoption cases.  Agencies that were shady, children that were abused.  Basically the worst of the worst.  And because of those isolated but horrible instances, good adoption agencies, orphanages, and expectant adoptive families are paying the price.  We’re talking red tape beyond red tape, you’re guilty until proven innocent kind of thinking.  In fact, Ethiopia has even discussed just closing their country from international adoptions all together.  Break. My. Heart.

It would be easy to point the finger and say who we think is in the wrong here, but nothing is ever that simple.  I understand the pride and desire of the Ethiopian government in wanting their children to remain theirs, to be raised with their birth language, heritage, and culture.  I want the adoption system to be reformed as well-for orphans to be raised by loving, willing members of their extended family, ones who can provide decent care without depleting their current family’s resources.  And do NOT GET ME STARTED on shady adoption agencies, their mere existence makes my blood boil.  There’s a special place in hell for those who take advantage of needy communities and their children.

So, I get it.  Seriously, I do.  But I also know that we don’t live in a perfect world.  Even with the strictest mandates and requirements, there will still be screw-ups.  Guaranteed.  Not that I think adoption should be a free for all.  No, certainly rules are good.  But abiding by the most comprehensive checklist will never provide a flawless result.  The list isn’t the problem, it’s the ones holding the list.  Even a “perfect” solution is compromised once we fallible humans get our sticky fingers on it.

But enough about the logistics of the situation, let’s talk about what this potential decision means for our family.  As you can imagine, it has been rough.  Our agency emailed us the news about this legislation and all its possible outcomes in early January.  We’ve been a mess ever since.  We keep waiting for the axe to fall, for a decision to be made, but it could be awhile (Ethiopian government isn’t stellar about making timely rulings, but then again neither is ours).  The fear of losing our daughter-the one we’ve dreamed about, wished and prayed for-isn’t even the worst thing.  Although that brings me to my knees in tears on a weekly basis.  The worst is the knowledge that if Ethiopia closes doors to international adoptions, regardless of their best intentions, it will be resigning hundreds of thousands of children to living their entire childhood in an orphanage or institution.  Ethiopia has an estimated 4.3 MILLION orphans in their small country, in-country adoptions and care from family members will just simply not be enough to provide homes for all these children.  And that’s what kills me to think about.  These kids without a voice, whose future adoptive parents are desperate to bring into a family, but who may fall victim to the system.  They’ll be lost in the legislation of “reform.”

So no, we aren’t really doing great.  If you were to approach us and quote Jeremiah 29:11, tell us to trust in God’s perfect timing, or say something about how “everything works together for good”--you’d probably need to then take a step backwards and cover your sensitive areas.  Trust me, we know all that “Jesus” lingo.  And sometimes those things (though well intentioned) seem a little trite when your heart is being ripped out.  My sweet Meghan recently did a blog post about grief (as exposed in Downton Abbey of all places) and this short quote by Mrs. Crawley hit home, “....I have this feeling, that when I laugh or read a book or hum a tune, it means I've forgotten him. Just for a moment.  And it's THAT that I cannot bear.”  Right now living life is hard.  I feel guilty about giving myself a break, taking a vacation from my PROBLEMS (Thank you Bill Murray), when we could be in the midst of losing our daughter.  How could I possibly think about anything else?

Our little chalkboard reminder of what is close to our hearts.

Now, just to be clear, if Ethiopia DOES close--it doesn’t mean the end for our adoption.  Because we wanted to be wise and cautious with this HUGE adoption decision, we chose an agency that will allow you to transfer your adoption to another country if needed.  And yes, as we understand it, most of the payments we’ve already made could be transferred over as well.  So an adoption from another country wouldn’t mean starting from scratch.  But, if I’m honest, the thought of transferring is difficult.  It wouldn’t simply be shuffling papers and signing a few more documents.  Ethiopia, adopting our daughter from this beautiful country, has been our life for 2 years.  I feel like I’m suffering a late-stage miscarriage.  To start the process somewhere else seems sacrilegious, like I’m dishonoring the memory of my sweet African daughter.  We are praying that IF we get to that point, God will give us direction, clarity, and changed hearts about moving forward with a different country...because we're definitely NOT feeling any of those things now (and probably don't ask us about this; it’s too hard to talk about currently).

The saving grace of 2014 so far has been our church.  Specifically their beginning of the year challenge to fast (from something) and pray for 21 days.  Through participation in this challenge and the use of provided study materials, I’ve (reluctantly) had some good scripture available to guide my (increasingly bleak) thoughts.  The passage I keep coming back to is in Isaiah 58, verses 6-8:  

    “No, the kind of fasting I want calls you to free those who are wrongly imprisoned and to stop oppressing those who work for you.  Treat them fairly and give them what they earn.  I want you to share your food with the hungry and to welcome poor wanderers into your homes.  Give clothes to those who need them, and do not hide from relatives who need your help.  If you do these things, your salvation will come like the dawn.  Yes, your healing will come quickly.  Your godliness will lead you forward, and the glory of the Lord will protect you from behind.”

Here’s the plan: We’re going to keep on doing good even if it kills us.  I dig the kind of fast God describes here: Sticking up for the helpless, personally assisting the needy.  If I believe the Scripture is true, then when we continue on in these kind of actions “our salvation will come like the dawn, our healing will come quickly, and our godliness will lead us forward.”  Please Jesus let it be true.  You’ve heard, “It’s always darkest before the dawn”?  Well, let me confirm the veracity of that proverb.  Salvation seems far away, unreachable.  Hoping feels foolish.  But still we continue in prayer and petitioning, weakly dragging ourselves onward.  This is the only right option for us now.  May I humbly ask for your encouragement and support as well?  We are emotionally spent and could use a few strong prayer warriors to lift us up.

Remember our daughter and the millions of other orphans waiting for a home.  Intercede for the governing officials making the decisions in Ethiopia and for the waiting adoptive families in the meantime.  It is hard to explain that our family’s being torn apart, when we were never fully put together in the first place.  However I know for us (and thousands of other parents), that’s exactly how it feels.  On bad days, I wonder if our African daughter will be the piece of our family we’ll never have the opportunity to find.  Our missing peace.  The pain would be immense, but after weathering the storm I know we’d be restored eventually.  If God could bring the dry bones of Ezekiel alive (I find myself identifying a lot with those bones lately), He can certainly breathe new life and hope into our family’s situation.

“....These bones are all the house of Israel. Look, they are saying, 'Our bones are dry, our hope has perished; we are cut off.'  Therefore prophesy, and tell them, 'This is what the sovereign Lord says: Look, I am about to open your graves and will raise you...my people. I will bring you to the land of Israel.  I will place my breath in you and you will live; I will give you rest in your own land. Then you will know that I am the Lord--I have spoken and I will act, declares the Lord.' "--Ezekiel 37:11b-12, 14

Feeling this way even more each day!