Until that point, though, we’re stuck in this mind-bending limbo. To be sure, the process — any international adoption process, for that matter, and quite possibly a good bit of domestic as well — is almost defined by periods of limbo. You get a bunch of documentation together and then wait for your homestudy. You get all the homestudy visits done and then wait for the final product. You get more documentation together and then send in your dossier, and wait for a referral. You accept the referral and then wait for the kids to be moved to the care center. Etc., etc. It’s just the nature of the process. But this particular limbo, by its very nature, feels the most awkward to me if not flat-out wrong. Not that anyone’s doing something wrong, or isn’t doing what they should — not that sort of wrong. But…well, here’s the deal. I’m a parent, right? Been one for over five years now, three times over before this adoption, and while that’s not “long” by parenting standards and I make no claims to having parenting all figured out, I at least can say that I have the parent mentality somewhat figured out. I love my kids, I want what’s best for them, I want to provide for them, etc., etc. Not that I’m making light of it, but it’s all the sorts of things any half-decent parent would readily say about their kids. And what would any half-decent parent do if a couple of their kids were suddenly stuck halfway around the world and needed to get home? You’d do whatever you had to do, make whatever arrangements you had to make, sparing no expense, to make sure they could get home or you’d go and get them yourself, right?

That’s where I am. I now have two children halfway around the world, and I want to bring them home. But I can’t, because it’s not time yet. And that’s what just feels wrong. Even though they don’t understand it, even though they know nothing about me yet except a single photo I’m hoping they saw today, I’m their Dad now. But I’m here and they’re way over there, and I can’t fix that. It’s not time yet.

I was telling one of our pastors about this on Sunday after worship, about how it just feels weird to suddenly have two more kids and not be able to go get them and bring them home, and his comment became a trigger to a deeper realization for me. He nodded in understanding of what I was trying to convey, and then he said, “You know, God knows exactly how you feel. He has children all over the world…”

And suddenly it hit me. It hit me so hard I couldn’t help but blurt it out even as I was still grasping its reality: “And he wants to bring them home!” Now I’m not talking about “coming home” as in believers dying. I’m talking about people who are incredibly loved by God and don’t even know it yet. People who have no idea how much He loves them and wants them to come home to Him. People who don’t understand how much He paid to give them a way to do that, no matter how far away they are now.

Is that you? Please come home. He loves you so much, and can’t wait to pick you up and hold you and be with you. The ticket’s already paid for, in full. You just have to get on the plane.

Go check it out and get involved!

We had heard all the stories of folks going into mad cleaning frenzies in preparation for the homestudy. But we also heard/read some folks advising that the homestudy isn’t really about how clean or orderly your house was, and we decided to take that to heart. As I recall we probably did the basics — vaccuum, give the bathrooms a once-over, etc., but there were still toys all over the floors, piles of mail and papers on the table, etc. It’s not that we like having stuff all over the place, it’s just that it never seems to fully go away for very long.

And you know what? It was fine. I even brought it up to the social worker in one of the interviews. I gestured at all the stuff, mentioned deciding not to go crazy cleaning up, shrugged, and said, “This is who we are.” She said, “That’s fine; that’s not what I’m here for.” She even mentioned at one point that at home she’s all about keeping things organized and clutter-free, so I know it wasn’t that she just sympathized. I think it was more that the important stuff was in place — the kids had proper beds and were clothed and fed, we had gates and cabinet locks where it made sense to have them, we were legally married and had sufficient income, and neither one of us has ever committed a felony. That sort of thing.

And now we have the draft homestudy ready to send back to her, and we’re ready to move on with submitting the dossier. God is good.

Hat tip: Owlhaven