Tag: Lily

Pouring rain today. 

But determined to visit Social Welfare.

My plan was to visit the big kahuna. I’ve only met him once, but this man is a blessing to the adoption world. If only there were more like him. If there would be anyone who could help us in this situation, it would be him.

Unfortunately I found he is traveling this week.

But since I was already at Social Welfare, I decided to visit Mrs. A, just in case. She had told me Friday that she still did not have Lily’s police report. Well, today was Wednesday. Worth a shot.

When she saw me, she said, “I think I have your report.” She took out 25 files and leafed through them. I think I held my breath for 5 minutes. I probably turned blue.

And then suddenly, there it was. A piece of paper that had our name and Lily’s name on it. Blessed, blessed piece of paper.

She read it in my presence. Furrowed her brow. Asked me some questions. Uh oh. She had some concerns about the report. And I almost had a heart attack.

I pulled out my phone and got ready to call our lawyer, the director of the orphanage, and the president of the United States. She calmed me down. “I think it will be okay,” she said. “Call back on Thursday.”

So next week, we’ll either be super close to getting our final letter, or back again where we were three months ago.

Consider the lilies.

Grace will come when it is needed.

I’ve struggled with this waiting.  July has been the hardest.  And still there is no end in sight; the report has not been received.  As I have asked around and pushed and pleaded, I have come to realize that the report is likely in a wasteland….figuratively, of course.  I have no idea what it will take to get it out of there.  There are many others in the same place as we are. 

It’s been three months since I met her, and I’ve had to come to the hard realization that we are still not close. 

I want her, desperately, of course.  And that’s not going to go away.  But I’ve also been worrying.  And I’ve needed to hear from God. 

Suddenly, I got it.

Lilies. 

Of course. 

Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life…Look at the birds of the air:  they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?  And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to the span of life?…Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow:  they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.

…O you of little faith!  Therefore do not be anxious, saying, “What shall we eat?” or “What shall we wear?”  For…your heavenly Father knows that you need them all.  But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.

Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself.  Sufficient for the day is its own trouble. 

(pictures taken in my Daddy’s garden….by Gil Medina, of course)

Consider the lilies.

Because God knows what we need.  He knows what she needs.  He knows when we need it.

Because He is the Provider of all good things.  Because He is Sovereign over the hearts of kings and men and social workers.

Because worrying won’t get her here a day sooner.  Because He gives grace for today, and for tomorrow only when tomorrow comes. 

He knows all.  He sees all.  He sees the big picture.  His plan is much bigger and better than mine. 

And all of a sudden, Her Name has a Story.

People keep asking me about something. 

What is it again?

Oh….that would be Lily. 

Not that I’ve really been thinking about her.  Very much.

I haven’t really had much to tell you.  I promise, if I did, I would be shouting it from the roof tops.  I would probably even use CAPITAL LETTERS.

We’ve just been waiting. 

Social worker in Mwanza told us she sent the police report.  I keep calling the social worker down here (we’ll call her Mrs. A) to see if she has received it.  Yesterday and today I made the hour drive to go see her in person.  Yesterday, no luck…she wasn’t there.  But today we talked.

She hasn’t received it.  But she also explained in detail to me the many layers of bureaucracy that must happen before she receives the letter.  Apparently the procedure changed in the last year, so things are going differently than with our previous adoptions.  Once that police report gets down to Dar, it goes through at least three other desks (for a stamp, a signature, a glance…) before it actually gets to Mrs. A.  And apparently there is pretty much no way to trace it until it appears on Mrs. A’s desk.

So our police report could be in three possible different places.  Or four, if you count the Mwanza social worker’s desk, since we still don’t have irrefutable proof that she mailed it.  Or five, if you count the post office, stuck behind a wall somewhere. 

Once Mrs. A gets it, she will write the final-final-final letter which allows us to go pick up Lily.  But she will write it by hand, someone else will type it (if there is power that day), and then it will go back through three other desks for signing and stamping before we can receive it.

It exhausts me just thinking about it. 

I so much want to bring Lily home before August 8th.  Because that week, we plan to go on vacation to our favorite beach house.  And it’s the very last week before Gil starts teacher meetings, and two weeks before Grace starts kindergarten.  I so desperately want us to have that week together as a family before we all split up again. 

Will you pray?  I know so many already are, and it means so much.

It seems impossible.  But we are trusting God is in control, and we wait for His will. 

Camp was amazing, as it always is.  Every year as we are getting ready, we say we won’t ever do it again, and then afterwards we admit that it’s worth all the stress and fuss and hassle.  Kids opening up in conversation who never do at school.  Kids singing worship songs who usually sit with their arms crossed at school.  So much laughter.  So many forever memories bonding us together with our students.  The Facebook posts the day they get home: “Camp was the best week of my life!”  And of course, the addtional ministry to the team of teenagers from the States who come to put on the camp.  Seeing their eyes opened; their lives changed.  And we know we’ll do it again.

My days were spent taking care of the First Aid campers.  Making arrangments with the kitchen staff.  Making sure the rooms got cleaned.  Spending time on the beach talking with students.  Watching for Grace and Josiah’s little heads, making sure they didn’t get lost in the shuffle.  They never did, of course, since they were being loved on by 50 teenagers.

But my nights.  I would put my kids to bed and wait for them to fall asleep.  And then I was Jacob, wrestling with God.

The police report just needed a cover letter and an envelope with a stamp.  A week after the social worker got it, she told us she mailed it.  Ten days after that, we found out that it had yet to be mailed. 

Two more weeks, wasted.

And so I wrestled in the darkness of that little cabin at the beach.  Dark moments of doubt.  And worry.

Worry….because every day that passes, our little girl inches closer to the age of 3, which is the “magic” age psychologists say by which time a child must make a permanent attachment or risk attachment disorder.

Worry…because every week that passes, our chances diminish of the adoption being finalized in time for us to visit home next summer.

Worry…because every month that passes is a greater assurance that our home assignment plans will be screwed up two years from now.  Lily will not receive American citizenship until she has lived with us for exactly two years…not a day less.  Thus every day that passes is another day we will have to push back our home assignment. 

And I hear her scream.

This is not a good plan!  I told my God.  I don’t like your timing!  We were not supposed to wait this long; we already went through this with Grace, why are you making us go through this again?  Don’t you see my carefully laid out plans?  Don’t you understand that my plan is the best one?

Lean not on your own understanding.

Lean not on your own understanding.

You would be very ashamed if you knew what the experiences you call setbacks, upheavals, pointless disturbances, and tedious annoyances really are.  You would realize that your complaints about them are nothing more nor less than blasphemies–though that never occurs to you.  Nothing happens to you except by the will of God, and yet [God’s] beloved children curse it because they do not know it for what it is.  (Jean-Pierre de Caussade, quoted by Ann Voskamp)

God showed up in both Grace and Josiah’s adoptions.  I’m waiting with expectation for how He will show up in Lily’s. 

Cheer up if your world is crashing at the moment and you are abiding in Christ’s will.  Tomorrow or next year will look completely different.  We see but middles. … The eyes of faith are more reliable than the eyes of sight.  (Andree Seu)

In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight. 

The text message came about 11:00 this morning:  The social worker has received your police report!

Finally, finally, after all these weeks!  Blessed, blessed news!

There is still one more step.  The police report gets sent down to Dar, and then we wait to receive one final letter from social welfare telling us we can bring her home.  With Grace and Josiah, that only took a week or two.  We have friends who waited eight.  You just never know. 

BUT the exciting part today is that now we can introduce her to you.  The police report was the key, because that’s the letter that releases her for adoption.  Up until that report, it’s just speculation.  

Anyway, what am I wasting time for?  You want to meet her! 

So here she is:

Her name is Lilly Zawadi Clement.  Her mother, Zawadi Clement, died two hours after she was born, and no one ever came to claim the baby or the body.  She was a premie and stayed in the hospital a number of weeks.  Now she is almost 2 1/2 years old.

We are going to keep her name but spell it Lily.  This was an endless debate between Gil and me, because I really like the significance of giving any adopted child a new name when she enters a family.  But she does already know her name, and Gil and I both really like the name Lily, so Gil won out in the end.  She will one day be Lily Zawadi Medina.

And there was great joy in the Medina household!