I don't have the words yet. I simply can't write it all out. The adoption process continues along its roller coaster track. The roller coster being emotions, not the actual process. The process is.....at a standstill.
One signature. One signature is all we need to move out of the office we are in. And its downhill from there. One signature. Other families have come and gone through this office with speed. We still need one signature.
I wish I could describe my prayer life to you...the things I bring before the Lord regarding Keemberlie and this adoption. One minute I am at complete peace, resting in God's timing. The next minute I am wrestling with God, crying out for his justice and swift victory.
Something was said to me recently that made me question how deeply I long for God's justice for Keemberlie. The next day I found myself praying that the Lord would lessen this deep passion if he saw fit - if somehow I was out of balance. Then He reminded me of a passage in Revelation in which the martyrs (people who die defending their faith in Jesus) in heaven are crying out for the justice of God in the end times. And it occurred to me: If martyrs are crying out for the justice of God to rise up while in the very presence of Jesus - where one would think they would have complete rest and comfort - it must be a seriously deep desire. One that God loves. And that makes it right.
I want justice for a 7 year old girl who never has a Haitian relative visit her in the orphanage; who has not known family for nearly 3 years; whose knowledge of family before that was a grandmother who could not feed her or care for her.
I want justice for a 7 year old girl who calls me mom; who cries desperately when my visit to see her comes to an end; whose sisters pray for her daily; whose room is ready; whose table is set; whose coming-home-dress hangs in her closet.
I want justice for a 7 year old girl whose mouth/brain/body long for the healthy food we eat all day; whose skin is tired of itching from scabies; whose soul and world-view are beyond her years; whose mind/knowledge lag behind with no education.
I want justice for a 7 year old girl who needs the protection of a father; who needs parents to answer when she cries out with bad dreams; who needs words of life spoken over her daily for the renewal of her mind.
This longing is real. It runs deeper than any desire I have ever known. And it is right.