Waiting for you is getting harder and harder. I know you are worth every minute of the wait, but the wait is starting to get to me. You see, for me, this process hasn’t been 6 months. It has been 1 1/2 years since God placed you in my heart. And ever since then, I have dreamed about what you would look like. I have wondered if you will be loud and outspoken or quiet and calm. I have wondered about how cute you will be all dressed up in the hand-me-down princess dresses Sydney has so generously donated to your closet. I think about the day when we actually get to hold you and see you face-to-face for the first time and whether you will scream bloody murder because you are scared or whether you will smile because you know you “belong.”
I know there is a good side to the wait. I am supposed to be finding a “hobby” or reading many many books on how to “attach” to you. I should be researching China and the culture. I should be working on my Mandarin so I can ask “where is the bathroom?” once we get there. There are so many things I should be doing, but all I really do is dream about what it will be like when we finally get you home.
Your dad and I have been talking about your room – about where to put your crib. I know it doesn’t really matter to you. You are probably used to sharing a room with 40 other babies…so, you won’t care. But we want it to be special for you. We want you to know we put thought into it. We care that you have a pretty room.
I don’t know how the attaching will go. The books almost scare me. I just have to believe that God has you picked out just for us. That He knows you need our family and we need you just as much. What has surprised me so much is how I thought I would be saving you…but somehow you are already saving me. My comfort zone no longer exists. I don’t care about big savings accounts. I don’t care about fancy vacations. I don’t really care about any of the things I thought I cared about.
Now that my world has collided with yours, none of the things that I thought were so important are quite as important any longer. Thank you for teaching me that every good thing is worth waiting for. Thank you for teaching me that love can happen – even sight unseen. Thank you for showing me that every person has value.
I cleaned out Sydney’s closet, and I just smiled as I put the beautiful little dresses in your room. To think that they will be twirled in once again just makes my heart happy. No dress should ever stop twirling. I think that should be our motto.
Ben has started praying for you. He prays for you every night. He whispers in a quiet little voice, “thank you God for Eliza.” It is my prayer. It is your Dad’s prayer. It is Sydney’s prayer. We just can’t wait to get you home sweet girl. Rest easy in the meantime. You be waiting. I’ll be reading. Ok? Ok.