When my parents went on their honeymoon, they made an interesting purchase of a large quantity of "church" books. My father always loved to read, and I think he felt like this was an important part to the beginning of their family--to have a library of quality books for his home. Over the years they have added to that collection bit by bit, and as I have gone through them one of my favorites has always been a book of poetry by Carol Lynn Pearson. My very favorite poem in the book has always been "My Harvest." I remember first reading it around 10 or 12 and being so impressed with how she expressed her feelings in a way that would mean so much to some families, even if it it was something I would probably never relate to.
I did not plant you, true.
But when the season is done,
When the alternative prayers for sun
and for rain are counted,
When the pain of weeding
And the pride of watching are through,
Then I will hold you high,
A shining leaf above the thousand seeds grown wild.
Not my planting,
But, by heaven,
My own child.
Oh how the tables always turn. Decades later I find myself waiting anxiously for a baby to be a part of our family through adoption. We are hopeful it will be in the next week or two, and I can hardly stand the wait. I have faith that my Heavenly Father has a child that He has always intended to be a part of our family, just not through typical means. And we are so hopeful that this little boy will be the one. We know that so much incredible joy will be brought our family, but we also recognize the grieving process that it will bring to the birthmom. If you are reading this, please pray for us and also for her, that no matter what we will all be blessed with peace. We'll let you know how it goes. :)