Oh, how Hollywood fools us. How writers know how to create the most predictable chain of events and still have us sitting on the edge of our seats. How they create unrealistic expectations of how life and relationships actually work. And, I have to admit I was drawn in. Throughout our journey, I have been kind of hoping for the same thing. Not a romantic love story, but I have hoped that one day, we would have our own family love story. After all of the drama of this entire adoption, we would have this magical moment where our friends and family come to the airport to see us carry JP to his new home. Things would move in slow-motion; there would be a beautiful, emotion-filled score to highlight each moment; JP's smile would run from ear to ear, and there would not be a dry eye around.
Wonderfully, that scene does happen in real-life, and it is a moment to be cherished. But, it won't be our love story. This journey has been about a different kind of love.
It has been about a God who redeemed me.
It has been about a God who started a small seed in my heart, one that was obedient to His will.
It has been about a God who closed the obvious doors and opened other doors and left me with only faith to walk through them.
It has been about a God who took me to a different place than my anxious heart wanted to go.
It has been about a God who said, "I know what the world says is good and right, but I have a different plan."
It has been about a God who cried with me, because He has been there.
It has been about a God who used tangible encouragement to show me He was still there.
It has been about a God who did not leave me alone, but who spoke to my heart through His word and song and the care of others.
It has been about a God who answered specific prayers to show me His might; and it has been about a God who did not answer specific prayers to show me His wisdom.
It has been about a God who slowly exchanged my thoughts about what is just and merciful and replaced them with His own.
It has been about a God who saved me from my own spiritual poverty and a God who saved a little boy in the Congo from physical poverty and a God who knit our two hearts together in the most beautiful way for all of eternity.
It has been about a love story with my Creator and Savior and ultimate Redeemer.
And, I will never be the same.
On Thursday night, we received the news we were certain would come but had not yet been said out loud: With all that is going on with adoptions in the DRC, and with the issues that have arisen in your case, we think the best thing for JP right now is that he stays in Congo. We were sad. We were still a bit worried for JP. But, we agreed. And, we know it is by the grace of God that we can have faith that He has and will continue to care for our little boy.
That same day, I received a book from a friend (I Will Carry You: A Sacred Dance of Grief and Joy by Angie Miller). My sweet friend has encouraged me to read this book for the past year. It is a book about a woman's journey through grief and saying goodbye to the romantic notions she had of life with one of her children, a little girl who was diagnosed with a terminal condition in the womb. It is not all sad: the Lord walked her through her season of grief in the same way He has guided me, with love and patience and mercy. But, I knew receiving that book on that day was no coincidence: there are no mishaps with God. It was just another part of this love story.
As I cracked open the book, I read this quote by Kahlil Gibran:
And the cup He brings,
though it burns your lips,
has been fashioned of the clay which the Potter
has moistened with His own sacred tears.
On the night I learned that God was not going to take our cup, on the night I realized that the prayers we have prayed for the past eighteen months were finally receiving the sweet voice of "no" from the Lord, on the night when our wait was over and we did not get what we wanted, I found comfort. I was reminded that my Savior has been there. That he cried out to God in the garden, "Lord, please take this cup. . ." But, for our sake, God didn't. The cup was not easy: but, it was created for our good and His glory. Our Lord spent the next day in utter despair. He bore the entire wrath of God, facing pain and shame and death. But God did not leave His child there. Three days later, He showed that, in the grip of God's sovereign hand, no trial can overtake us.
And, so, it is time. It is not time to move on, but to move forward. To determine how we can best help JP thrive in his home country. To help him know the Lord. To investigate whether we can free his mother and sisters from the poverty and bondage so many women face. To allow God to use this season to make us more compassionate and giving and open-handed; to make us less fearful of trials and the uncertainty of the future; to make us trust Him so deeply that we find our "happily ever after" in Him alone.
So, we end where we started: a desire to give an orphan hope and a home, a desire to add one of the world's orphans to all this love in the Bell home. God answered that prayer for JP and for us, and He has graciously used this journey to do so much more. Through the 'narrow place' of suffering and loss, we can happily say on the other side that He is truly good, and He really does do good in all things.
To all who have followed us on this journey, thank you for praying for us and bearing with us and loving on us. My fervent prayer for you would be that He takes the cup when He can; that He leaves the cup when it will bring you more of Him; and that He writes his own purposeful and meaningful and eternal love story into your heart.
When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
you will not be burned;
the flames will not set you ablaze.
For I am the Lord, your God,
the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.
Isaiah 43:2-3
