Todd is currently on top of the roof hanging Christmas lights and swearing. I’m sitting here writing while downloading really cheesy Christmas music. I’ve got a warm cup of tea and a cute little snowman candle glowing. We got all our Christmas decorations out and up. We just need to trim the tree, and then we’re done! And then everything will be better, right?
We woke up on Thanksgiving Day, both of us cranky and unsure what to be thankful for. Yes, we are the Bah-humbugs this year. OF COURSE we have plenty to be thankful for – and we aren’t so cynical and bitter that we can’t find some gratitude. It is just that we are now on the fourth holiday season without our sons here to share it with us. We are angry, and mostly sad and heartbroken – not just for us, but for their young and tender hearts. It is way past time for them to come home.
Yes, so now onto that popular question – WHEN WILL THEY COME HOME? ANY NEWS? WHAT’S THE STATUS? We wish we knew. We wish it was easy to explain the process. We don’t even understand it sometimes. The trouble is that every situation is different, and every stage of the process requires something that sometimes we have to wait even longer on. Most recently, we’ve been waiting on an ID card for one of our boy’s biological parents. We couldn’t progress to the next stage until the courts had the proper ID for that parent – and that ID took over a year to obtain. There is no explanation for this. In fact, I just renewed my driver's license here in Tennessee a few weeks ago. It took me 1 hour – not 1 year. But with every step of this process we learn more and more about the difficulties Haiti faces every day in just doing “normal” business. That ID finally did come, but now there is a strike, and courts are not open. So we wait some more.
Yes, we were under every impression and belief this Christmas would be different – that our boys would be home with us. But we are hanging lights and trimming the tree just as the year before – with continued sadness but no less hope than before. And we truly don’t mean to be bah-humbug. We just want to be honest and authentic about where we are. We are hurting. But we press on. We continue hoping. And we knew when we started this journey it would be hard and painful. While so many people mean well, we don’t need anymore pep talks, bible verses, or fluffy spiritual jargon. We believe in God, His Son Jesus, and the Holy Spirit. We know and trust their great power and love through this. And we don’t ever begin to assume we know better than God and His timing. We lean on Him every day. And we also know it’s possible to love and lean on God and still hurt.
So I drink my tea and listen to Kenny and Dolly sing “I Believe in Santa Claus" one more time. I hang the ornaments we all made together last Christmas and put them on this sweet little Charlie Brown Christmas tree that proudly sits in our front window. It somehow screams to the outside, “our boys are coming! They are coming! They will be here!” We hang their stockings. We cry. And we hold each other tight because we have each other to get us through the wait. And we have the comforting presence of God who also knows very well how it feels to hurt for His children.