I am bone tired this week; weary more in spirit than in body, although I can physically feel the weight of it. I used up my time and energy in collecting, organizing, pricing, hauling, and manning an enormous yard sale, basically on my own. Having a two year old in need of constant vigilance kind of necessitates that. And it was worth it. I'm so thankful that even with as little traffic as we had, we still cracked the $1,000 mark after a couple of craigslist sales in the same weekend. Not too shabby for a yard sale. But my heart sank into my shoes when I realized I'd have to do that about 30 more times to come up with all the funding we need for this adoption. And I can't. I just cannot do this alone.
Community is not something that everyone naturally seeks out (ask my husband), but I live and breathe in it. I don't mean that I merely relish having a room full of people around me, although I do enjoy that at times. I mean I feel starved without intimate relationships of a select few fellow pilgrims. Never have I yet found any earthly thing like the bond I have with my sister. The Lord is my defender, my rear guard, the lifter of my head; and my sister is the tangible form that mirrors those attributes, the tangible hand that grasps mine and hauls me up when I'm too tired and discouraged to even ask anyone for help. After a rather tumultuous journey, I am thankful to see that kind of depth rooting firmly in my marriage as well, although in a different way. In fact, I am blessed beyond measure to have that kind of comfortable, unconditional, relentless love in my entire immediate family. That is the kind of love I hope to share with the child the Lord has for us someday.
The only thing is, my family, other than S, is here in spirit, but elsewhere in body, and we need a band of brothers (and sisters) right here at home too. I have been praying that the Lord would gather a tight circle of "family" around us here as we begin this journey. It always makes me smile to see or hear others who are happy and excited for us when they hear our story, but we will desperately need intimate community even more. We need a select few who are willing to lock arms with us, grasp our hands, lift us up, and go the distance with us. We need a band of warriors who will be in the trenches with us through prayers, brainstorming ideas, through the waiting, and all the post-airport days when we are learning how to love and care for a broken, wounded child. Those are the relationships I am begging the Lord to provide right now.
I think it is easy to get by, maybe without even realizing it, void of true intimacy in the day to day. We don't want to bug anyone with our struggles; we can handle it. We don't make the time or have the energy to reach out and forge that bond that can only be built through time and shared experience. We can't get out of our own world long enough to notice or care about what might be going on with someone else. We're slowly starving ourselves and we don't even know it. Guilty as charged. But let me tell you, when you stand on the brink of something enormous, you suddenly realize with complete clarity that you don't want to plunge into the mist without someone's hand to hold. It's not enough to know that there are well intentioned people all around you. You want the person next to you who won't complain when you leave claw marks in their skin because you're holding on so tightly. You need the person by your side who straps you to their back and hauls you along when you can't walk anymore on your own. I don't know who that someone is yet. Maybe it's someone we've known for years. Maybe it's someone we haven't yet met. Maybe it's you. Whoever it is, I am grateful, and I am praying for you.