The after.
When you hold onto something for so long as hard as I had, you
have to will yourself (or be willed by something externally) to let it go. Then this amazing thing can happen…when you
open your hands, release that strong grip…you look down and your hands are
filled with something new, something you never would have picked up on your own
because your hands were too full. The
fear was, for so long, that I would let go and my hands would be empty. And the
pain of those empty hands kept the healing at bay.
After the adoption was officially over I had a hard time
letting go. I was openly grieving and
trying the best I could to heal through forgiveness and the steady flow of
tears. Someone said recently, if you are crying you are healing…so I must
be. I knew I was starting to move on
with my life, but there was never much time (with two little kids) to be quiet
and hear from God on exactly how I was to move on. I had experienced my first
great loss in this life and I was still in it, unable to see the big picture…the
redemption of the story. The After.
I wasn’t sure how to let go…not in a way that would open my
heart to another child. Tony and I would
talk about all the possibilities. Africa was still on our hearts…which was
baffling to us. Were we nuts? We didn’t
know why this wouldn’t go away, in fact, we wished it would.
I had signed up for an adoption retreat with some moms at my
church months ago and as the date neared, my anxiety heightened. I didn’t want
to go. I was back to “normal” busying myself with kids and life and I knew
this retreat would just re-open a wound I didn’t want to re-open. I almost didn’t go. But as with most things
in my life, the more anxiety I have about them, the more valuable the
outcome. I knew God wanted to work in my
heart in a place I could quiet the noise and hear Him.
The first night I met a woman who was another DRC mom. (The
only one there that had been through a DRC adoption) Their timeline was very
similar to ours. Her little boy was the
same age as Moses. They met him when he
was a little over a year in the fall of 2014 (we went in August). I was so encouraged by her. She had been through what I had been through
and although her outcome was different than ours (they were able to bring their
sweet one home) it was so refreshing to be able to talk to someone who just
knew. She understood my loss and we
bonded through our shared pain…and I have a feeling we will be longtime
friends. Tony always talks about the
comraderie soldiers have…going to war with your brothers and they have your
back and you go through so much together.
That’s how I feel about my other DRC moms…we went to war together. We fought so long and hard for our kids.
The retreat turned into much more than I anticpated. Sitting in the first session Friday night it
was maybe the first time my mind was quiet and empty and free from the
static. I heard a voice audibly say “It’s
time to say goodbye to him” and in the next moment I heard “Write him a letter
and let him go, and be free” I was like, “woah, heavy.” But then I couldn’t
wait to do it. When I had a break the next day I wrote him a letter through
tears (of loss mingled with hope and joy for the first time).
Being in it, I didn’t have a clear view
yet of what God was doing or what he COULD do…I had lost my hope. My dreams were going to have to change shape
and morph into something else…something new and unexpected.
I saw another old dear friend of mine at the retreat and she
gave me the words “severe mercy” It’s the severity of the pain with the mercy
of the “after” I am ready to run with
open arms into the after. His mercies
are new everyday am I right? At the end of the weekend they encouraged us to leave
something there. Something that was
weighing us down or keeping us from moving forward. They gave us each a little piece of wood to
write on the thing we wanted to leave. I wrote one word “Moses” It was time to
say goodbye. To leave him at the alter…knowing the alter is the only/best place
to leave him…right at the feet of Jesus.
So I did it. I left him there and walked away. I said goodbye for the last time to my sweet
boy. And for the first time in a long
time I had hope for the future.
The day after the retreat I was having some quiet time while
Lucy napped and I got a text from the DRC mom from the retreat…who just happens to work with our
new agency. They were looking for a
family that was far enough along in the process to be able to move quickly on a
little boy (about 9 weeks old) from Africa.
He is in need of heart surgery and this would be a very high risk
adoption. She said she hesitated to
bring it to us after knowing all we had been through. I asked a bunch of questions and told her I
would talk to my husband. Honestly when
I brought it up to Tony I thought he would laugh (just at the idea of us doing
this again) and then we would pray that God found this little boy the right
home. That’s what I was kind of hoping
for. But Tony did not react that way at
all…and now after much prayer, not that much time and a couple “are we freaking
nuts?”, we have decided to go down this road.
We are obviously terrified and we know more than anyone how this could
end. But what if it ends another
way? What if this is the after? What if we are the right family for this
sweet little boy, who at the moment, has no one? I won’t get to ahead of myself because I know
how I can do that…you all know me…it’s like I fall in love quick, so I am
cautiously stepping into this.
The logisitics are nuts.
We have to pay for an adoption that we have no money for. We poured everything we had into the last one
and now we are depleted. So there are
already funds due and we are praying that our people will rally around us (even
though you all may think we are nuts too) Our agency asked if they thought we
could raise the funds in time…and we have no idea…and honestly we are freaked
out by the amounts. But we have decided
to approach this adoption in faith not in fear…the worst scenario has happened
to us already and we made it out on the other side and I wouldn’t change a
second of it because it has taught us so much about our need for God and it has
brought us closer as a family.
So, that being said, we are about to battle for this little
boy friends, will you battle with us? Will you pray for us? Will you help support us? (the asking is humbling and HARD you guys)
Both Tony and I wish we could do this whole process in private or just asking
for prayers until he is home but the truth is we can’t. We didn’t have time to save for this one and
we are humbly asking for our team to come through. We can’t wait for the day when we don’t have
to ask anymore and we can start giving and blessing others in their own
adoptions, missions trips, endeavors.
This little guy needs us village.
He needs surgery and he needs us to step up in a big way. We love our people and if all you can do is
pray, we get that cuz we broke too! And we need those prayers.
We also need about 20,000 more dollars...so yeah there's that. Uh, and we need it soon. So if you feel led to join us on this crazy adventure...there's a couple ways to do it:
1) Keep an eye out for any fundraisers we may be doing
2) Donate now! You can donate on our PayPal in the sidebar at the right or for a tax deductible donation you can send a donation to Lifesongfororphans.org go to "give to an adoptive family" type in number 4361 and name Schmid.
3) keep following on facebook/my blog for more updates.
Here we go again...