Update

Elena's region is currently shut down to processing adoptions.  I had thought, naively, that we would skirt by this shut down because we had already registered with the Ministry of Education and had made our first trip.  I thought we would be grandfathered in, and have news of our court date later this month.  I was wrong.  And now we're a little in shock.  I guess we got spoiled, being the region 23 family who was just sailing along while all our other adoptive friends in other regions hit snag after snag.

I cried angry tears for the first two days.  And now I'm just trying to find a place of peace.  Throughout the course of the day, I'll hear my children laughing upstairs or I'll catch myself daydreaming about Elena integrating into our family and it's tears of sadness now that pop into my eyes.  "Lost time!" my mind says.  "But God's time," my heart responds.

There is some hopeful speculation that we can resume our process in May.  There is no way to know for sure, but we are holding on to that hope.  

Jeff pointed out that this feeling is like when we were in the midst of infertility.  After our first failed in vitro fertilization, we felt so sad and in despair.  We also felt hope for the next try.  But in the background was that ugly, lurking fear of "what if this never works?  what if it's failed attempt after failed attempt?"  

Right now we feel sad.  But we also have hope that things will reopen in a few months.  But there's this ugly, lurking fear that we may never get to resume our adoption process....

The path of infertility obviously resulted in so much joy and blessing in our family.  We are holding tight to the hope that the path of adoption will result in the same.  I can only think that God in all His wisdom was trying to teach me a thing or two about trust and patience during our struggle with infertility, as He knew the adoption path that lay ahead for us 7 years later.  

The biggest thing for me--that Elena be protected during this time of waiting. That her little heart, her little mind, her little spirit be protected.  I pray that more time in an orphanage does not equal a heart that is less able to receive love from us, less able to make her place in our family, once we get her home.  Please pray with me.

Now I'm just trying to focus on the joy in my every day tasks again, and stop focusing on the uncertain future.  It's hard not to let my thoughts run away and get lost in worry as I go throughout my day.  Sometimes I wish I wouldn't think about her so much.  Is that a terrible thing for a mother to think?  But I'm not sure it's even in my power to do such a thing anyway.

Even now as I'm typing this, I'm struggling.  I see her face in my mind and I am twisting inside knowing that even if get to see her again as early as this summer, she will have changed in that time.  Changed without me.  And even if it's only a few months that we are delayed, those are months that I wanted to be a part of.  Influencing, teaching, loving, showing a new way, introducing what it is to be a part of a family where hugs are freely given and there's always a song at bedtime.

A few years ago, in the Esther Beth Moore study, I learned that we must wait solely on the Lord, not on any other goal or event.  Isaiah 40:31: Those who wait on the Lord (not Russia) shall renew their strength.