Grief

They're gone. 

Gone. 

Has it been a week? Really? It doesn't feel real. I have kept myself extraordinarily busy this week. And for the most part I just feel numb. 

I've talked with a couple of people about grief. And had the chance to think about how I've processed in the past. I can't process "gone" just yet. That is a mountain I might lose myself under. 

But denial is hard to maintain. I find myself noticing the small differences. And I can hold on to each one for a moment. Like a pebble you cup in your hand. Feel it; let it go. I can process this mountain one pebble at a time. 

After months of battling endless laundry, all the dirty clothes fit at the bottom of one basket. The linen closet is full. There's so many towels. 

The car is very quiet. I've been used to two conversations going on at the same time. All the time. The kids were talkers. I can get away from the house, but then I'm sitting in the car. And it's too quiet. 

When I see an airplane, I no longer have to point it out. 

I got the cold, clammy sweats standing in the middle of Target's kids clothes when I realized that I was just there out of habit, not need. 

The hardest moment this week was when I was in the car, almost home. The street before mine runs parallel to the train tracks. I had just turned on when the bells started clanging and the railroad crossing arms came down. I slowed down and waited for the train to catch up. I drove beside it until I had to turn onto my street--the whistle blowing, the wheels screeching. Tyrez would have loved it. 

Uncertainty

In this journey toward adoption, very little is certain. One day we have a victory: the foster care review board recommends termination of parent rights, parole is denied, siblings are reunited. The next feels like defeat: visitations at prison, cancelled court dates, a relative requesting a home study.

I don't know what tomorrow will bring. I know that God loves me more than I can fathom. I know that He has ordered my steps. I want these children to be with me forever. But even if we just have today, it will be a blessing. God has heard the cries of my heart for these children. He knows the path that is set before me. I live in uncertainty. It has strengthened my faith and shown me how little faith I have.

What sustains me? Today's sermon was about how the Gospel sustains us. I want to live in anxiety when the bad news comes. The enemy would have me lose my focus and be incapacitated by worry. My pastor and my parents remind me to go back to the Word.

Psalm 116 has always comforted me. I turn to it over and over again. "He has inclined his ear to me." "You, Lord, have delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, and my feet from stumbling."

A friend recommended the devotional Jesus Calling by Sarah Young. If you are living in a period of uncertainty and need encouragement, I would recommend it to you. From today's reading: "I am with you and for you. You face nothing alone--nothing! When you feel anxious, know that you are focusing on the visible world and leaving me out of the picture....I will get you safely through this day and all your days. Each day is a precious gift from My Father. How ridiculous to grasp for future gifts when today's is set before you."