a night and a day

While you were sleeping last night, I was praying.  It was daytime here, and while I folded laundry, your name was on my lips.  At lunchtime, the four of us gathered around the table and lifted you up.   In the evening when your daddy was gone, I lay on the bed cuddled with Libby and Tucker, and they both prayed for you.  And after they were asleep, I washed dishes and responded to messages, and sewed, and worked on a Bible study and I simply called out “Lord, Lord” because I had run out of words and tears.  Or I thought I had.  But then I sat at our table again and wrote in my journal to Him the hardest words … the words I had offered before. 

“We want Aida to be ours… so badly.  But even though it’s hard … more than that, we want what’s best for her, we want Your plan.  And if that means her staying in the place where she was born… then let it be done Lord. “

And while I was getting ready for bed, I pictured your relatives getting ready for the day.  Making the long trip to court. And I prayed for our Provider’s supernatural peace and wisdom and comfort to overcome them.  To let them know what is best.  

I fell asleep, knowing that while we were sleeping, people were going to court and making a decision that would alter the rest of two families’ lives.  And while we were sleeping, they were given an unimaginable choice (that no one should ever have to make) for the third and final time.  

And while we were sleeping, they chose to love you by letting you go. 

And while we were sleeping, you became one step closer to becoming ours.