I lay in my husbands arms a few nights ago, tears once again streaming down my cheeks. They have permanent roads now, and they know where they are going.
It had been a particularily difficult few days, adoption-wise. A roller coaster of yes, no, maybe, someday soon. Doors opening and closing and slamming and cracking open again.
And as we lay there, my husband, wise man that he is, commented that really, I'm not cut out for this.
This up and down is hard on my heart.
My exuberance and utter defeat are not easy.
I give myself fully to the hope and then am shattered when it doesn't pay out.
But then I got to thinking, isn't that the point? I'm NOT cut out for this. I'm not supposed to be.
When we come to the end and acknowledge that we can't do it anymore, that's when God can freely work. That's when He can get all the glory. Because at the end of the day, when our story unfolds, I won't be able to take any credit. None at all. I have no ability to influence the minds of birthmothers. I can't change judges decisions. I can't be the one to get the social worker to recomend us. I can't.
BUT HE CAN!!
And that's the point. At the end, He gets all the glory, all the praise, all the adoration.
Look at Abraham and Sarah. The Bible tells us that her womb was shrivelled and he was as good as dead. They couldn't have children. No matter how hard they tried. No matter if they had prayed for many years. No matter if they had taken matters into their own hands and produced a sudo-heir in Ishmael. They couldn't fulfil God's promise for a son.
But. God. could.
And at the end of their life, as they would look back, He is the one that gets all the praise. He's the one who gets all the glory. We look at the story and marvel at His miracle in bringing Isaac so that Jesus could be born.
We're praying that God would get all the glory. That years from now, when we look back at what He's done, people would marvel at the God we serve. That His handprint would be clearly seen in our lives.