Life lately has dished out some major disappointments. Disappointments that have left me reeling for a safe place to land. To be honest, there have been moments I’ve felt paralyzed in fear and anxiety and uncertainty about where to turn next. Along this adoption process, I’ve questioned. But in the past several weeks, I’ve questioned everything.

The other day, the Lord gave me a vision of a Roman soldier standing in full armor on a bed of sand. As he stood, the earth began to shake and sand particles shifted beneath his feet. He didn’t run. He stood firm, resolved. With hands on his hips, he was the picture of confidence and steadfastness. The earth continued to tremble, and the sand shifted but instead of moving, he stood even more secure. For as the earth convulsed, the sand sifted away to reveal the Rock beneath his feet.

See, I’ve been angry because the shaking hurts. It’s not fun. Everything in life seems unstable and loose, like there is no solid ground for my feet to rest. And yet, moments like tonight happen, when the second I spun the key in the ignition of my dark car on the rare occasion I was alone, the opening notes of a song struck that spoke so directly to my disappointment they couldn’t have been a coincidence.

He had the solution before you had a problem
You’re closer than you think you are
Don’t ever lose hope, hold on and believe
Maybe you just haven’t seen it yet

Haven’t Seen It Yet by Danny Gokey

Or the one that followed where I felt the Lord call my name to say “I will never stop fighting for you.” This is my solid Rock. This is where I find my security. Not in my talents or my husband or my kids or a someday, “completed” adoption. I won’t find it in my church or my home or anything material that is here today and gone tomorrow. I will find it solely in Jesus.

These disappointments and uncertainties make me want to shrivel back and hide. I want to protect my sensitive heart that is afraid of getting hurt, again. I want to lock it up and keep it hidden away. And I almost did that. I almost said no to our most recent adoption opportunity. But then not only was our profile book shown, we were chosen as one of two families to meet the precious mama who requested to see it. So last week, we did just that. We interviewed with her and our agency and we’re now awaiting her decision.

Every detail feels unsettled. Every aspect of this situation and every other uncertain. As if it’s all in suspense. Yet, here I stand, tonight on the solid Rock that says “Jamie, I will never stop fighting for you.” Life doesn’t feel any less shaky. It doesn’t feel wrapped up with a bow or neat or tidy. And I certainly don’t feel dressed for battle. But somehow, it all feels doable. He isn’t after just a completed adoption or a comfortable life. He’s after my heart. And it’s in the untidiness of life that feels precarious and unpredictable that He’ll keep fighting for it. Fighting for me.

And that is something I can stand on.

If you would, pray with us for this mama. As unsteady as my life feels, I imagine hers feels even more unstable. And my heart aches for her to know God is fighting for her heart too.