a few weeks ago,
i was searching for some random item.
searching all over the entire house,
I finally decided to open the seldomly-used guest-bedroom-dresser.
what I found took my breath away.
I stared blankly at the drawer,
not processing the forgetten-about contents.
blinking my eyes and shaking my head with the dawning of reality,
i quickly shut it and left the room as my tears fell.
an entire drawer of sized 4T clothing.
brand new, tags still on.
neatly folded, waiting.
fuzzy-lined sweatshirts and cozy cords.
2-piece fitted reindeer jammies and soft red henleys.
waiting.
waiting for our sweet Miles.
they remain in that drawer,
waiting for a son whom will never get to wear them.
-------------------------
I've been quiet about Miles. and all orphan care.
not because my heart has forgotten,
but because my heart overflows
and it's almost impossible to articulate the depth of emotions
we've felt the past 12 months of our lives.
one year ago today,
Matt and I were meeting Miles for the very first time together.
I was hugging him for the first time since I met him in January of 2011.
this is the photo I put on instagram almost exactly a year ago.
Miles' shirt and tie and sweet little blazer he'd wear to the Ugandan court.
the ugandan court that would then delay our process,
the delay that would be our first hint that this adoption journey
would take a different path than we ever saw coming.
My heart will never understand why the Lord had this path for us.
why we have an entire drawer full of clothes,
an entire household of prepared hearts -
an entire community of friends and family -
that will never get to greet and meet and love the intended person.
I will never understand.
But though I have been quiet,
I am breaking the silence.
Breaking through our healing hearts to say that I don't want people to see THIS story.
the story of failed adoption.
{I want you to see the GOD *behind* the story}.
the God who, when originally calling us to adopt,
provided two *thousand* dollars in TWO WEEKS for us to submit our first paperwork.
the God who opened door after door after door in Uganda for us, clearing the path for us to arrive.
the God who worked in our family's hearts,
who made even grandparents love this sweet little boy they had never met.
the God who worked in our 7-year-old's heart so much
that he STILL says our family is a family of five.
our sweet Grant *counts* Miles in our family, from even around the ocean.
The God who has given me every single doctor I've needed at just the right time
to treat a potentially very serious heart condition.
The God who met us in our pain. Whom loved us through our tears.
the God who now has SEVEN Ugandan pastors sponsored monthly through our contacts.
that's SEVEN pastors preaching the Gospel to people who may never have heard.
that's the God of our story.
that's the GOD I want people to see.
The God whose ways, even though they are not our ways,
are infinitely higher than our own.
the God who bears our pain and feels our grief.
{isaiah}
The God who directs our paths, when even in our understanding, they make zero sense.
{proverbs}
The God who chooses to use broken, desperate people, to weave stories for His Glory.
That's the God we serve.
See the God behind our story, not just our story itself.
"I know that you can do all things and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted".
job 42
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sweet Miles, about a year ago.
