We Wait, We Weep, We Pray

UPDATE: So Putin officially signed this ban into law yesterday, devastating us and hundreds of other familes who were waiting. There is a thin thread of hope that they will allow families currently in process finish, but for us to be counted in that group, we need to be filed with the Russian officials before January 1. WE NEED A MIRACLE!

So officially, we are at a bit of a stall at this point. Yes, the law Putin signed states that effective Jan. 1, Russian adoptions are closed, but what exactly that means for those of us in process is unclear. The law is being challenged as it violates Russian Family Code and is against the Hague Convention on Children’s Rights, which Russia has signed. There is a petition with 100,000 signatures on it at the Duma asking the law to be annuled, but the likelihood of that happening is pretty low. With New Years and Russian Christmas on January 7, we likely won’t know any more until around the 10th of January. So we continue to wait and pray and hope that something changes.

On Christmas night, after the gifts had been unwrapped and the harried activities of the day ended, we put the kids to bed. The house was quiet and still smelled of cinnamon and love. I sat on the couch with a cup of hot tea and stared at the Christmas light and prayed.

Last week, Russia proposed a ban on US adoptions. I prayed for peace and for wisdom for the leaders. I wondered what our Christmas would look like next year. Would there be another child dancing around the tree? Would she be here? I prayed and I asked God to give me a specific word on the adoption.

Then I sat in the silence and waited.

I don’t know what I was expecting. Maybe the tree to ignite in flames and a voice to speak to me? Maybe a sign or a phone call or something significant?

I didn’t get any of those. Instead the word “Wait” kept rolling through my head. At first I thought that word was coming from me, that subconsciously I was just telling myself to wait for God to give His obvious answer.

Then I realized it was coming from Him. The word “Wait” was rolling out of my heart and repeating on a loop in my mind. Wait. Wait. Wait.

Yesterday, Russia’s parliament unanimously voted to uphold the ban and still I chose to wait.




Today, Putin has said he will, indeed, sign the bill. Today I wept. They were hard, hot bitter tears. Our paperwork officially went to Russia just this week. We were right there – right on the cusp and I feel heartbroken and sad. I told you recently I have been fearing the floor would drop out from under this whole process…

And yet still I feel that I must wait. I don’t know what this means for our family, I really don’t. Just thinking about telling my kids that there’s a chance this won’t happen brings on a fresh crop of tears. I’m sad and I’m scared and I’m confused, but I will wait.

This doesn’t change the fact that I feel our family is incomplete. This doesn’t change my desire to adopt. It doesn’t change my deep, deep love for the country of Russia, for the people, for the culture. So many things have remained the same and so I wait.

What will God do? We have a mountain of completed adoption paperwork. Do we go to another country? Adopt domestically? Wait and see if things open with Russia? I don’t have answers to any of those questions. So I must wait.

And while I wait, I will probably cry. And while I cry I will definitely pray.

We are headed into a new year. There are so many possibilites. I am waiting to see what God has in store.


Will you pray for us as we wait? And please pray for the 750,000 children who are currently living in orphanages throughout all of Russia. They are the true victims in all of this…

Onward and Forward

We did it.


Yesterday we mailed out a package filled with every detail of our lives to the capital building in Tallahassee for apostilling. From there (and barring any major mistakes on my part) the package will head to our adoption agency, most likely by the end of next week. I have one piece of paper that needs to be apostilled in the State of Arkansas and I’m waiting on one more document that will need apostilling in the State of California.

And then?

Then our dossier is complete.


As in done.


Into the hands of Russia. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

And now we don’t know what will happen. Will Russia close? Possibly. If that happens we will take a little time to breathe and are open to exploring other adoption options. But they might remain open. This whole political stand off may pass on by and if that happens, then we are that much closer to seeing this thing through.

So we wait and you know what? Waiting isn’t a lot of fun. It just isn’t. I want to know. I want to know now! I don’t want to wait. I don’t want to see what kind of blessing might be at the end of the unknown.

I’m so human and so impatient.

A friend reposted this video the other day and it’s served as a good reminder for me. This was made a few years ago and yes, that’s Sloan you see in the video. He was around 6 when they shot this at our church in St. Louis. Besides being an awesome and adorable look back at him and all the other kids I love so much, it’s been a good reminder that even when waiting is hard, there are rewards to patience.

I want my cookie now. I don’t want to wait for two cookies.

But I will wait. I will wait and I will work on patience and grace and love and peace until we are presented with the next step. I will wait for the blessings.


What are you waiting for? Can I be praying for you in the wait?