Friday, December 10, 2010

a day for grieving...and potential joy

ETA: Judge unable to review file. New court date set for Jan 28. Sigh.

ETA: Adoption denied for 3rd time. Judge set new court date of Jan 25 for unknown reasons.

ETA: New court date again...Jan 21st.

ETA: Court date was changed again to Dec 30th and then again to Jan 12th. No words. Just frustration.

ETA: Their court date was changed this morning (Dec 13) to Friday, December 17th. Too. Much. Drama. Please keep praying and believing.

Nine years. It's been nine years since I last saw my dad's smiling face, heard his contagious laughter, and watched him use a toothpick in ways previously unknown.

On Monday December 13th, all those years ago, my life changed forever. The first few years were difficult but now it's easier. The wound left on my heart has healed and no longer aches in the same way. I still miss him and feel sad for all the missed opportunities. Especially seeing him as a grandpa, he would have been amazing.

On Monday I experience my grief day. While another waits for life changing news that will result in either profound grief or joy. The friend I have written about before is waiting for word regarding the potential adoption of a little boy in Ethiopia. Their story is tragic and something I wouldn't wish for anyone.

While speaking with her yesterday I was reminded of my "summer from hell" and the work I did to try to believe in what seemed impossible. For my friend, a positive answer from court on Monday may actually be impossible, but they were given a nugget of information this week that has resulted in the tiniest bit of hope.

But she can't believe in the impossible. Hope hurts. Hope exposes a previously protected heart and cracks open those deep places of longing and emotion. Hope lets you think about the future. Hope causes your head to spin with out of control feelings and thoughts. To feel a speck of hope in situations like this is hard.

Alice laughed. "There's no use trying," she said. "One can't believe impossible things."

"I dare say you haven't had as much practice," said the Queen. "When I was your age I did it for half an hour a day. Why sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast."

-- Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking-Glass

She can't believe it. But I can. And so can you.

Believe and pray this weekend.

And I sincerely hope that I am the only one of us grieving on Monday.