Longing to be Whole

I've become keenly aware of the different views people have concerning families and children.

When I go shopping by myself with the three children we have home, I usually get at least one "ya got your hands full" comment.

I honestly don't mind those comments!  Some see beauty if the lives of children and admire us for taking up the calling of caring for them, but some are literally dumbfounded that we would choose to outnumber ourselves by bringing more than two little hellions into the world to look after.

Then their faces REALLY change when I tell them we have another 5 year old waiting for us in Congo.

Sometimes, I forget to stress the fact that WE are also waiting for HIM.

See, we have been waiting for so LONG that waiting is now our norm.

Tobias has been our son since October of 2012 - 1 year and 8 months.  He has legally been our adopted son since May of 2013 - 1 year and 1 month.

We've had crazy roller coasters of hope and disappointment.  We never once thought we'd really be waiting this long to bring our son home.

But after all this time of telling our story to others and giving countless updates to our caring family and friends, I realize that I can become numb to the fact that I am desperately waiting for our family to be whole.

I'm so used to saying "We have no timeline," "We're still waiting," "There's nothing we can do except wait."

I can say, "It's been so hard and we just pray he comes home SOMEday" without flinching.

But today, as I read our friend's blog post (you can read it here, they are in Congo at Tobi's orphanage right now), I just sat and cried.

I never know when these moments will spring upon me, but when they do, there's no denying it - I JUST. WANT. HIM. HOME.

I was scoring their blog post for a glimpse of Tobi (they are bringing back plenty).  I just wanted to see his face, his large round eyes, and his infectious smile.

There were none.  There was so much to rejoice over in their post, but a selfish mama, was looking for a specific chocolate colored face.

He wasn't there....but more importantly, he's not HERE.

Part of our family is missing, and it just hurts.  Sometimes the everyday "I'm doing ok" facade crashes down when we least expect it.

And I AM usually doing ok.  We have been greatly blessed by the ones The Lord has given us here and we rejoice in His grace everyday!

And I'm sure by this afternoon I'll be able to give our adoption speal without a blink again, but right now I'm painfully aware of the empty bed in his brother's room, the closet full of clothes, the beautifully wrapped Christmas present from his Nonnie and Papa, and the gaping hole in our hearts.  

A piece of our hearts and a part of our family is across the world.  And we just long for it to be whole.