So....

I think I figured something out...sometimes I write, say, think things that I know are true more for myself than for anyone else. For example, I know that God is in control. I know that Joshua is safe and healthy. I know that one day we will bring him home. I know that God's timing and plan are perfect. I know that I have many wonderful lessons and blessings in store for me during this time of waiting, provided I don't dwell so much on the waiting that I miss them. I know that all I can do is love Joshua and pray for him to come home soon. Like I said, I know all these things.

HoSometimes, though, just knowing isn't enough to get through all the hard times of waiting. I am confident in God's plan and his timing. No, I don't know what our adoption has in store for us. If I had known back in October 2006 what I know now, I probably wouldn't have chosen to start Jonathan's adoption only to lose him. But we don't know what the future has in store for any of us. We can only choose one of two things - to go it alone, or to go it with God. We have chosen to go it with God. I can't imagine what the pain and grief of losing a childe feels like if you don't have God, or your Christian family surrounding you. We had people at our house from before we got home from work on that July day until the evening...even having dinner brought to us. One memorable visitor was our friend Esperandieu Pierre (the founder of NVM). He and his wife Dianne came and spent about two hours with us, much of the time in silence. As they left, they sang Steve Green's song "He who Began a Good Work in You." Our church family surrounded us with love and prayers for days - even holding a memorial for him, though they had never met him or laid eyes on him. Our small group (at the time consisted of two other couples) spent 4 hours in the hot sun holding a car wash to raise money for HIS Home in honor of Jonathan - they raised a little over $400 in that short time, and we weren't ther. Our church family gave a generous donation to HIS me as well. The people at HIS Home were also there for us, having themselves experienced a loss of an adopted child just week after bringing them into their home. I will never forget the love we felt during quite possibly the most difficult time in our lives.

I also can't imagine people going through what we did without amazing family, friends and employers. We received so many cards from friends and family during this time. Some people we hadn't seen or spoken to in months - years even - sent us cards and condolences. My family is scattered literraly all over North America (Canada mostly), and we received cards, e-mails, and phone calls from so many of them. HIS Home was the beneficiary of some more donations in Jonathan's name.

Our colleagues and co-workers were also there for us, literally from the moment we found out that Jonathan died. I will never forget the three ladies I work with who stopped what they were doing to give me hugs and let me cry on their shoulders or in their cubes. I will never forget the time of prayer I had with some of the ladies in our accounting office who stopped to pray before and after we learned of his passing. I will never forget the voice mail left by one of the administrative assistants encouraging us and letting us know she was praying for us. I will never forget the outpouring of support we got from those we spend most of our time with - our co-workers. Our place of employment expected us to take time to grieve, even though there was no funeral to plan or preparations to make. Work could, will, and did and wait. My supervisor and boss both told me to take it easy when I got back to work and that if I needed more time, to take it. My husband's team members - and many others - collected money and had a memorial flame made for us and the remainder went to HIS Home in Jonathan's name. The president of the company even allowed Craig to take more time off last year than "allowed" so he could go to Haiti with me in September to grieve with me there.

Even now, friends and family are supporting us with adopting Joshua. The hardest question to hear, and answer, is "How long before he comes home?" The answer is, "I don't know." The latest we heard was two years, but we don't even know where our file is right now. We had to wait for Joshua's dossier to be completed, and at Christmas time it was almost done. If I wanted to call every week for a status update, I would. But I know that Chris is processing around 60 adoptions and she lost one of her most trusted employees in January. And I know that no amount of nagging and complaining is going to get anything done any faster. So, I have convinced myself that it's okay not to know, but sometimes that just isn't enough. Like now. I desperately want to know what's going on, where our file is. It is taking every bit of me not to call and talk to them. Sometimes I think just hearing her tell me in her very calm voice everythign that's goin on would help. But I can't help to think that I would so devestated if I learned that there was nothing new to tell. So, I write this to get it out of me, to cry, to be frustrated. Not because I don't trust God. It is because I am human and it is okay to feel these things. I love and trust God with everything, and sometimes just knowing something is a form of control (thanks for that Rebee). So, I will cry to my God and tell him how I feel. I will feel his arms wrap around me and comfort me. And one day, I will go to Haiti and bring home my beautiful Joshua.