I’m Not Okay

No. Today, I’m not alright. Today my heart was broken. Probably not for the last time either. In all honesty, it was probably just one of many blows this adoption journey will throw at my sensitive heart.


I want to be alright.
I will be alright.


Someday, I’ll be rocking my precious little one, gazing out at the rising sun and remember this day, along with all the ones I’m sure will come that threatened to make me shrink back and hide. Someday, I’ll laugh at these days, knowing the outcome the pain served. Someday, this day will be a memory.


But for today, it just hurts.


It hurts to think I was passed over. Stings to know the decision was made to go in a different direction. And as much as I want to be angry, I know this is for what I prayed. I prayed for God’s best. His best, for that situation, wasn’t me. Or maybe that situation wasn’t the best for me. Whatever the case, it means waiting. It means I have yet to find my child. It means the “express lane” wasn’t our lane. I could wallow in defeat. Indeed, a part of me wants to throw myself to the floor like a toddler in a temper tantrum and never expose my sensitive heart to hurt again. But instead, I’ll scrape and claw my way out of this pit. I will get back up and fight. Anything less would be ignoring this call, ignoring my perfect position to witness once more my God’s infinite sovereignty and His heart for me.


So no, right now, I’m not okay. I might not be okay tomorrow or even the day after that, but I will be. Someday; someday soon. Though right now, my emotions are threatening to tear me apart shred by shred and I’m teetering somewhere on the spectrum between righteous indignation and self-loathing, I’m choosing what I know. My feelings will only lead me astray. So, I’m choosing to trust. To trust this too will work together for my good. To believe He who called me, will make a way. To believe not a one of my tears is ever wasted. Trusting that each and every time I allow the Lord to scoop me up from my despair, brush off the world’s dust and keep moving forward, I’m that much closer to my destiny. That much closer to my child.


Mama’s coming little one. I promise, I won’t stop fighting for you. We’ll make it.


We’ll make it.

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