PATIENCE. Patience is the state of endurance under difficult circumstances, which can mean persevering in the face of delay or provocation without acting on annoyance/anger in a negative way; or exhibiting forbearance when under strain, especially when faced with longer-term difficulties. Patience is the level of endurance one can take before negativity. It is also used to refer to the character trait of being steadfast.
Patience is the level of endurance one can take before negativity.
Patience is exhibiting forbearance when under strain.
Patience is persevering in the face of delay.
Patience is without acting in a negative way upon provocation.
I am not patient.
It's been months. And I have had no words. Well, rather I have had MANY words, but my mother always told me that if you can't say something nice, don't say it at all. I'll plead the 5th on that one, but at least I have employed enough self-control not to put ALL the words swarming around my head like a hive of angry bees on the internet. I suppose the blessing in being knocked down by wave after wave of salty sea water is that you're so occupied with trying to find and hang onto your breath that you don't have time to formulate words, much less propel them out into the open where they can find a dry patch upon which to land. The good news is that EVENTUALLY the tide draws back, you manage to get to your feet even though the sand is still shifting underneath you and the wind is whipping around you and you come to the conclusion that Thank God, you are still alive and....you are glad to be. And once the tide has drawn back, and you have caught your breath and established that you are still alive, you then can begin the process of assessing the damage and sorting through the debris left strewn about......
"It has been determined that you have been selected for the adoption of two of the four children in question. Congratulations and good luck." December 31, 2013.
A naïve person would think that was IT! The training and paperwork had been completed, our qualifications vetted, the decision made, the room readied......what could possibly be left but to meet and bring our precious girls home and begin the process of healing and growing and bonding and thriving?
A naïve person would think.
"The next step will be to wait for the redacted file. Once you receive and review it with your caseworker, we will set up a staff meeting during which all parties will meet and you will have an opportunity to ask questions."
REDACTION. A form of editing in which multiple source texts are combined and altered slightly to make a single document. A method of collecting a series on a similar theme and creating a definitive and coherent work. Later came to be used in a sense of adapting a document prior to publication or release.
How hard could it be? Surely they have most of this together? Surely all of the important information is kept in one place? Surely there is a nice, neat file somewhere that has already been prepared for the day when they anticipated that someone would come along to adopt the girls? Surely.
Imagine if every paper that had your name mentioned since you were born had to be collected, reviewed, and assimilated in coherent order. Birth records, counseling records, medical records, monthly reports from CPS, foster parents, CASA workers, school officials, dentists, doctors, prescriptions, report cards, transfer papers. Every shred of anything in the history of ever that existed in your entire life. And then imagine that each of those thousands of papers had to be scanned individually for sensitive information that cannot be shared with prospective adoptive parents. Biological parents' names, addresses, descriptions, ages, socials. Foster parents names, addresses, information. Counselors names, addresses, information. Cities where they live. Schools that they attend. Now imagine ONE REDACTION UNIT for the entire state of Texas, with merely a handful of Redaction Specialists, in a room, likely a basement, with stacks upon stacks--hundreds of thousands of files and a fat, black Sharpie.
Even Rumplestiltzkin would be no match for such a task.
So we waited, patiently at first, for the pieces of paper that stood in between us and our future. It couldn't possibly take more than a few weeks, we thought. We thanked God for the time. Time to finish up the room. Time to enjoy being childless. Time to read, pray, prepare. Patience is a fickle mistress though and the space between 'time as a gift' and 'time as a curse' is a sharp 90 degree angle. A few weeks passed and the patience began to wane. My dad always taught me that being proactive is key. So we started calling. Emailing. Texting. Calling again. We pestered caseworkers. Anyone and everyone who's number I could track down got weekly, sometimes daily reminders that there were two orphaned little girls out there who needed to know about their new mom and dad and two hopeful parents who were watching a magical bedroom gather dust. People called. People emailed. People reached out. "Do you have your girls yet?!" they asked excitedly. We responded with equal excitement. "Not yet! But we're ready! We're hoping to meet them soon!" Then, as the excitement faded, as all things do, more tentative inquiries became the norm. "Any word on the girls?" We tried to stay upbeat, positive, confident, assured. Hoping that our own unquenchable enthusiasm would sweep others along. "Not yet, but we think we'll get a call any day now! We're so excited!" We pretended to be experts. Feigned confidence. Blamed the broken system; "too many kids, not enough caseworkers", we said with assurance. More time passed. We distracted ourselves. Bought stuff for their room. Talked about what it would be like when they were finally here. Researched tips and techniques to promote adoptive bonding. Joined support groups with other foster and adoptive families. Anything that could keep us connected to the fact that we would be parents soon. Our girls were on their way. We wouldn't let go.
People eventually stopped asking. We found our enthusiasm hard to maintain. What WAS taking so long? Had they changed their minds about us? Had something gone wrong? What exactly was IN the files that warranted such time and careful examination? And in the silence and space between, one of our girls had a birthday. An acute representation of time passing and moments missing and the lives of four people continuing on, without each other.
And then it came. The call from our caseworker telling us she had received the files. We were ecstatic! Finally! After months and months! We had been waiting for what seemed like forever. Little did we know, all of the time in the world could not have prepared us for the information we were about to receive.
But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience. Romans 8:25
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