Remembering...

I used to think it was just mean that every year the day of my Mom's death would roll back around. Couldn't we have a calendar that didn't repeat dates. However, as I've been reading the Old Testament, I realized something significant. It happens as you read the words of God. He uses it to teach you. Anyways, back to revisiting dates, and the Old Testament. There seems to be a pattern I've noticed. God did something significant. Noah built an alter. God did something significant. Abram built an alter. He visited the alter. He remembered. The Israelites see God reveal himself in a mighty way. They build an alter to mark the spot. They recognize it when they come upon it again. They remembered.
So maybe that is what the date is. A remembering. A time to look back and remember what God has done. To not forget. To not lose the lesson. To honor and praise God for what he has done. To remember what he is really capable of. Maybe God created us with a need to have a alter, a marking to remember by. Surely he knows me, and how easily I forget. It's easy to celebrate the good days of remembering. But the hardest days of our lives, it's just easier not to.
So while the remembering is painful, I remember. I choose to revisit the sorrow, to return to the healing. Part of the remembering, is writing it out for me. To fill in the gaps in the history, and to give ALL the GLORY to God that he so rightfully deserves.
So one year ago...
I was sitting down enjoying a quiet moment, remember my mom. Remembering how much she loved Jesus, how much she loved me, and how much of a gap in my life there is without her. I was praying for the strength to finish my day, and for the comfort and peace that only Jesus brings. Grief is a fickle fellow, and I remember that day he had taken up residence with me for the afternoon. He wasn't leaving until I had joined him in an ugly cry, and a time of mourning. As I was starting to recover, and see that this wave of grief would too pass, a friend called. She asked if I'd heard that Haiti had an earthquake? No, but I got off the phone to get on the computer and get details. I remember being numb at this point. No adrenaline rush, or even feeling of being overly concerned. On Facebook it had been posted that our kids were safe, as well as the staff at GLA. After that, I went to CNN, and got the first wind of how bad it was. How really bad it was. How blessed we were that our children were alive. I called R, or he called me. I know we had a conversation. I don't remember what we said, or even if we said much. I just knew we needed to have a connection. Then I prayed, and watched the news, and prayed. I remember feeling hopeless, frustrated, and scared. Scared that our children's hope of coming home that year had just been buried in the rubble. I remember being broken to my core that there was a possibility that our adoption may take years more to be completed, and not believing my heart could take that.
When R came home we just held each other. There were no words to say. We had no reason to believe it actually would be okay. It looked pretty dire. I had never heard of a humanitarian evacuation. My only thought was how we could possibly complete the end of our adoption with Haiti being in such chaos. We received calls, and each time we said we didn't know what would happen it seemed to become more real that they would be stuck in Haiti for a long time. It was one of the darkest nights of my life. To be honest, I had lost hope. I was looking at the earthly realm, and all it frailties as the only reality. And when you are in that place, it's dark and lonely. We were fearful for our children. We were sad that they had been through this horrible experience and we weren't there to comfort and to protect. The feelings of helplessness were enormous. As a mother, I wanted to get on a plane, boat, train, dingy, or flyer saucer to get to them. I wanted to walk through piles of rubble and rings of fire to hold them. And yet, I couldn't. Trapped and Hopeless. If you wondered why we didn't blog more those 10 days, it was because I tend to be unable to blog without being pretty honest. And I was way to vulnerable to put out there how I really was feeling. It looked like I was calm and confident. Nope, just crisis management training in action.
I drifted in and out of sleep. I'd fall asleep and jerk awake trying to figure out a way to get on a plane to Haiti. Twice I got up to get dressed to drive to the airport, only halfway through getting dressed realizing how little that would actually help, and how God was not directing me to do that. My pride was telling me that I just needed to get there and I'd take care of getting them home. That God wasn't going to have this one - I was. And then he'd remind me that wasn't truth. And to go back to bed.
The next day I remember sending R to work, and the kids to school, and crumbling onto the couch, and going to the really ugly cry. You know, the one where your whole body heaves and there isn't time to catch your breath. The kind that breaks your soul wide open, and leaves you raw and open. And God spoke gentle, soothing words into that gap. He brought me back to Isaiah 43. Reminded me of his promises. And gave me a new promise. Isaiah 43:6. "I will say to the north, 'Give them up!' and to the south, 'Do not hold them back.' Bring my sons from afar and my daughters from the ends of the earth, everyone who is called by my name, whom I created for my glory, whom I formed and made." It was a balm to my raw soul. I held onto those words tightly, like a worry stone. Going over and over them, rubbing them when my soul would seize up with worry. I spent the day trying to get as much information about the earthquake, watching news story after news story, refreshing facebook, and searching for any update. I answered calls from friends and family asking if we'd heard anything. I didn't have answers, but every news story seemed to get worse and worse.
Those first few days were dark, and I spent alot of energy fighting off the lies of despair. It was truly a spiritual battle. Would I believe God was really big enough? Would I have faith when the odds were so against us? Did I really trust him to hold my children in his hands when I couldn't have proof of it? It's easy to have faith when the evidence is obvious. It's easier to have comfort when your in pain, even if you don't like the circumstances. But to surrender it all, and trust when all the facts point to a hopeless situation - well, that is a whole other story. To be willing to accept defeat, and to choose to have faith in spite of defeat, brought me to a new place with God. If it all fell apart, would he be enough to heal and sustain? I'd like to think I can say after those few days the answer if yes. That I know without a shadow of doubt. But there is this part of me that remembers the doubt. Remembers the pride. Remembers how easy it was to fall into despair.
Once we started to hear that there was a way for the kids to come home, all my energy went into making it happen. God had provided a way, and I was going to hold up my end. I couldn't get on a plane, but I could contact every 'important' person to beg, plead, and beg some more to hear my kids story. We were blessed by the friends, families, and strangers who acted on our children's behalf. We spent the next day or two calling, emailing and calling again everyone we could think of who might have the slightest influence on the US Government agencies that needed to act. By the 15th, three days later, we were starting to see the possibility of getting them home becoming a possible reality.
One of the hardest part of those first days was feeling like we were focusing on our own need to have the kids home, and not being able to focus on the needs in Haiti. That the attention we were drawing to our story, wasn't bringing the needs of Haiti into the spotlight. We had to remind ourselves that GLA asked us for this specific help, that only we as adoptive parents could provide. We had to trust that God would reveal through the media attention that which he wanted revealed. The media attention is a whole other aspect of those days that still makes me cringe a little. That we sought out the spotlight. That we were news worthy. Understand clearly - we needed the media. We know that the media coverage made a difference. However, R and I, had a hard time with it. It felt prideful. I remember when Koin 6 called me wanting to just ignore the call and not go there. Maybe it's growing up in a small town and having everyone know your business, maybe it's not feeling worthy of the attention. I don't know. I just know that is was hard to do. And it was hard to do on our own behalf, and not want to just plead with people to give to Haiti. To let it be about us.
Well, that was a longer post than I intended. Alot to remember. Alot of gaps to fill in. I'm still skimming over some of the details, but some aren't worthy of remembering or no longer seem significant once held under the microscope of time and perspective.
Well, I got to day 3 of 10. I'll be back with days 3-6 in the next couple days. Those were some really GOOD days. God showed up in some big ways. Ways I've not shared before. Ways I've held to myself, in part because I'm selfish and didn't want to share. In part because I haven't taken the time to remember and write it out. But remembering is good for the soul.