Delayed Sweetness

The posts I’ve written and saved — without making public — are becoming a blog in themselves. Hard to believe that what you’ve already read on this blog has made its way through a filter, isn’t it? I begin composing posts as an update but somehow my indiscriminate heart weasels its way into my writing. And before I know it I’ve encroached into the land of the “overshare.”

As I type, I’m not quite sure whether this post will make it through the filter. I’m feeling over-bold and I suspect this too will fall into the category of that which should remain in a locked diary. Nate’s first impression of me — well, that carried over for about 2 years — was that I was an “automaton”. Maybe it’s his influence that’s caused this rush of emotional expression 🙂

The wait continues… and as informed as we think we are, there is always new information making our little adoption adventure seemingly more complicated. As a result of this, and some other variables in our lives, I’ve found myself a bit shell-shocked. How did we get here? How is it that even the adoption we were so certain would end with a family still hangs in the balance — in mid-August?

I turn 31 in two weeks and any woman waiting on a child, or hoping for a husband, knows that birthdays–as a result–become way less exciting. Some of the (for lack of a better word) grief I felt a year ago has settled back into my daily life and I can’t help but wonder … what about the times when the bitter things don’t feel so sweet?

You see, if I step back like I am now, I can see the storyline forming. But before I give away some of what I think is the author’s intent for the narrative I’ll explain where I find myself most days.

Perplexed. The more I grow in God the more I realize how little I know Him. There’s a pride that’s come into my heart over time, strictly out of ignorance. When everything seems to work for you, it’s easy to *fit* God into the mix and make Him make sense in your world (and others’, for that matter). As things start to slide off-kilter circumstantially I’m forced to look at my wet-behind-the-ears self and say “I don’t really know Him.” Rather than just changing my view of God so that it fits my paradigm (which I suppose happens some without my even acknowledging it) I see even more of a need to search the scriptures, cry out in prayer, and wait on the Holy Spirit to reveal to me a new aspect of His nature.

So here’s where I am in the narrative and the most tangible example of the process I just explained above: What if every bitter thing doesn’t feel sweet? For the past few years I’ve found almost immediate relief to circumstantial pain in the form of deep heart connection with God in prayer. It made me want to choose pain any day because of the nearly instantaneous “reward” I found in tucking myself away in God.

But lately, the delay has moved from my circumstances into my personal relationship with God. The sting of pain is lasting a little longer. The relief in the form of deep heart connection with God has been more in fits and spurts than a constant IV drip.

As we struggle to hope for something that, in the “natural”, has more obstacles than we ever anticipated, I’m feeling less like a child who’s skinned their knee and more like a teenager with a broken bone who’s on the sidelines indefinitely. If the bitter doesn’t feel so sweet, does the promise still remain true? (Proverbs 27:7 — see the backdrop for this blog).

After what’s now become a month or so of wrestling, I have no other answer but yes. And I believe the Author’s intent is to display all the elements required in maturing His main characters. (I mean, Nate and I are very stubborn. It takes a lot to refine this little spitfire.) Can I rest in Him and cling to the Word revealed by His Spirit even when everything else around me — including my very heart — may tell me otherwise?


I can’t help but migrate towards the scriptures that talk of God’s heart for the brokenhearted, the lonely, the weak, the poor in spirit, the hungry … cause lately that’s me. I am way less driven than I used to be. I accomplish less in a day than I used to in one hour. I spend a lot more time praying and a lot less time getting things done. I’m “needy” (a word that still makes me shudder). My prayers are shorter and feel full of heart and lacking in power.

But the bottom line is that even in this state I will not relent in pursuing God and His promises for my life — including for us to have a family. I will not stop seeking. I will not stop asking. I will not stop praying. The weakness, the perplexity… well, it’s opportunity for the enemy of my soul to lead me down the path of complacency. (“Why keep praying if you aren’t seeing any movement?” and “You must have done something to cause yourself this much struggle?” are the lies the enemy speaks to me.)  But its at this nexus that I hear God saying … Press on. It’s “go” time! Do not turn back in your prayers.

So I will. And in about an hour I’ll read this post again to remind myself that that’s what I said I would do … cause I’ll probably not want to do that and my fickle heart will need reminding.

And then I’ll probably delete it. Or not.