I am so unbrave. Some days, (no all days), I want to feel brave and confident and sure of our decision. I desperately want to feel hopeful, but there is little of that left. Unlike the author of this article, nothing new is happening in our adoption and we don't know if it ever will. And that my friends is where trust comes in...and trusting that whatever the circumstances are, that they are for the good of those who love Him. I truly hope this whole four years of waiting turns out in a way that I can feel confident that God is in control and knows the desires of my heart and wants to give good gifts to his children...but right now, all of those things seem so distant and so faint that I am afraid the glimmer of hope is fading quickly and it is all but extinguished. And when I am left at the end of this standing with empty arms and a broken heart, what is left of hope? But the risk that is so big, that is because of this hope, is a risk that I have to take because if I don't I cannot live...
"When you’ve got a big enough hope in your heart — you’re willing to risk being told you’re not enough.
I licked and sealed what felt like a hundred believing envelopes.
There’s some risks you have got to take because it turns out you can’t live not taking them. You can't live with dreams drying up inside you like some dying and parched riverbed. You can’t expect to keep breathing if you aren’t breathing in hope....You clearly not being enough —- is what makes the enoughness of God most clearly seen....Even when you’re afraid of not being enough — God’s making everything into make more than enough grace. You only have to keep believing — and keep stepping out unbrave."
Check out the rest of Ann VosCamps's post to see what else she had to say about their process.