This morning a post that I wrote one year ago today came across my TimeHop. One year ago, when I was aching and longing and so very weary of the wait for Sylvie to come home. At the time, we continued to pray for a miracle – we wanted her home for Christmas. When I wrote these words, I didn’t know how our story would unfold. I didn’t know that we would spend yet another Christmas worlds apart. I didn’t know that this year, one year later, Sylvie would be reading books to her baby sister while I typed on the floor next to my girls.
I needed to reread these words today. I needed to remember the ache. The longing. And, most of all, the persistent Hope.
I needed to remember in order to be ever more grateful for the abundant blessings under my roof. Because, honestly, it’s easy to forget.
These days with four littles – including one from hard places, especially this one from hard places – are exhausting. I asked God this morning to be near. I asked that I feel Him in the tasks of the day – the dishes, the laundry, the diaper changes. That He be present and real in our home. Even when I am tired and worn out from the correcting behavior, the chasing down lost legos, the wiping noses, the lack of sleep, the attempt to understand trigger behaviors, the calming of fears. I needed to remember that “He is here. He whispers in the quiet. He embraces the weary. He catches the tears.”
And, as I continue to lift up my fellow Congo mommas and their babies in prayer, I needed to remember that He alone is the miracle worker. He is still on the throne. Our Hope is in Him, indeed.
Read the full post from last year HERE.