Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Another "night before court"

Tonight I feel like there are several different posts that would be appropriate to share. We could share with you the usual "night before court" stuff - What we hope will happen tomorrow, what we expect might happen and all the different ways it could possibly go. We could remind you of all the different ways to pray tomorrow for an outcome that would keep Waverley's best interest in mind. We could share all of that, but we feel like most of you know how to pray for tomorrow.

We could share what it was like to drop Waverley off for her first overnight away from home and in the home of someone she's just gotten to know over the last week or so - the feelings that you have when you show her a room that's been prepared for her in a home that isn't yours. We could try and give you a sense of what it was like to walk away from that house to the car - how long that very short walk was. We could share all of that, but I'm sure you can begin to imagine how heart wrenching that was without us going into the awful details.

We could also share what it was like tonight to get a bitter taste of what the near future holds. A house that is much too quiet. A certain chuckle missing from our night time routine. A gaping hole that's going to be in our family for who knows how long - maybe forever. We could share that and probably will, once it becomes our reality.

There's something different from all of that I'd like to post tonight, though. It's something that's been on my mind since noon today. I've debated with myself all day about posting it, but I'm going to anyway. It'll take a little bit of context to get there, but if you're in a reading mood....

Over two years ago when we began this journey there was something else that was taking root in our lives as well. Several months before we began the adoption process to adopt Waverley we began volunteering at an organization in the inner-city here in Kansas City called The Hope Center (you can read more about it here if you're interested www.hopecenterkc.org).  It was something we felt God calling us to get involved so we decided to volunteer to tutor middle school kids in the inner-city once a week. Working in the inner city has a profound and lasting impact on every part of you. Along with the success stories you see systemic poverty, injustice, and oppression in ways you didn't think existed. When you see it in the lives of kids especially it leaves no part of your life unchanged, especially your own suffering. It doesn't ease the pain of your suffering or make it more palatable, but you see it from a different perspective - a perspective that humbles you. You are able to share in the suffering of others and they in yours in a unique way and there is a depth of comfort from that.

About a year and a half ago, I had the opportunity to take a staff position at The Hope Center. It's been unbelievable difficult and incredibly rewarding. I can't think of anywhere or anything I'd rather be doing with my life right now. As part of our regular schedule our staff takes a break from work at noon each workday and we spend some time in a guided prayer. It's a time to refocus and recalibrate our day. We go through a liturgical type prayer and then read and reflect on a chapter or two from the book of Psalms. This has been an incredibly rich time for me personally as we've struggled through this adoption process. The Psalms are incredibly authentic and are very open about struggling honestly through things with God and still finding Him good and true in the midst of the awful things that happen in this world. The most significant part of this time for me has been a blessing that ends this time each day. Liturgy and definitely become rote and lose much of its meaning or it can be done thoughtfully and become woven deep into your soul - I think it depends on how a person approaches it.  The idea is that, as we recite this blessing together, we are saying it with others in mind - fellow staff, family, those in the community we serve, friends, etc. This part of  has stuck with me and has become embedded in my soul. The longer our personal journey with this adoption goes and the longer our suffering remains the more meaningful this becomes and the more mindful I am of my family as I recite it. Today, I could barely get the words out. I'm not sure where it comes from.

Let nothing disturb you
Nothing frighten you
All things are passing
God never changes
Patient endurance leads to all things
Whom God possesses
In nothing is wanting
Alone God suffices

My hope is that this is a reality for our family, no matter how messy things get or how overwhelming they become, or how bleak the outlook seems. If you're looking to pray something for us as we move into this extremely difficult place, this would about cover it.

Thanks for letting me share this, and thank you as always for your thoughts and prayers for us tomorrow and over the next few weeks. We'll be updating this blog sometime tomorrow once court is over and we're able to sort through everything.



nikki said...

praying in fort worth....always love reading your thoughts- you and molly always give me much to think about and process- both of you are so very gifted with words.

Jenna Anderson said...

thanks matt... i truly don't have words... only tears and prayers that i'm mustering up. i simply cannot imagine the pain that you and molly and your girls faced tonight. thank you for your words... reminding us of the hope.

Bethany said...

Our whole office is praying for you today. Take heart.

pinktulips said...

We are praying. We love your family even though we don't personally know you and our hearts cry out for you. God is near. Love, ally stouse and family.

Anonymous said...

I have been following your story for some time now. As a birth mother who placed my first son for adoption 25 years ago, I just cannot comprehend what the courts and the birth father's family are putting you through...putting Wavy through. It breaks my heart for all of you. As difficult as it was for me to place my son, I couldn't imagine ever trying to tear him away from the only family he'd ever known. You, Matt and Molly, are Wavy's mommy and daddy...and someday she will know everything you did for her and how much you have always loved her.

You are in my heart and prayers,

Kenyon Anderson