In the words of encouragement you all gave me yesterday, many people have said that they consider me strong. I'm not. I'm a big wimp. I'm not strong at all as you can see from my despair yesterday. I know in my mind and in my heart that God is my strength, my only strength because in my human self I am so not strong.

In her blog, Deana shared the scripture Isaiah 40:27 "Why would you ever complain, O Jacob, or whine Israel, saying, "God has lost track of me. He doesn't care what happens to me"? Don't you know anything? Haven't you been listening? God doesn't come and go. God lasts. He's Creator of all you can see or imagine. He doesn't get tired out, doesn't pause to catch His breath. And He knows everything, inside and out. He energizes those who get tired, gives fresh strength to dropouts. For even young people tire and drop out, young folk in their prime stumble and fall. But those who wait upon God get fresh strength. They spread their wings and soar like eagles, they run and don't get tired, they walk and don't lag behind."

I felt like a drop-out yesterday. There have been only two times in this adoption that I've really felt like quitting. Yesterday was the second of those times.

Many times people will say, "God won't give you any more than you can bear." That's not true, it's not in the Bible. If God never gave (or allowed) more than I can handle, then I wouldn't need Him. The twists and turns this adoption has taken are way more than I can handle. (***The scripture that people confuse is 1 Corinthians 10:13 No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; He will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it.)

Throughout the months of ups and downs in this adoption, I've cried out to God, shouted at Him, that if we are going down the wrong path to please let us know. But the peace is still there underneath all the pain of the waiting.

In this adoption journey I have to have a touchstone. A place where I can go back to and know that I know that I know that we are doing the right thing. These are my touchstones:

• (1) It goes back to D's adoption and the decision to step forward in that adoption. I heard the voice of God as close to audibly as I think I ever will. After over a year of going back and forth between hubby and me being ready to step forward, I was the one holding back. But on September 12, 2000 I heard God say in my soul, "It's time, your child is in Russia. Get started."
• (2) On our second trip, when we were in Moscow before we traveled to the region for D's court hearing, I heard Him again. We were walking down a side street in Moscow and again another very strong feeling/voice told me, "You'll be back." and I knew right then that our second child would also come from Russia. Since we've had D home, I've had two miscarriages and two private domestic adoptions fall through. Although those were all hard, I could understand that they weren't meant to be because I knew in my heart that our next child would come from Russia.
• (3) During the wait for V's referral I would look at the eight baby girls in our age parameters in the region on the Russian Databank website. I was drawn to the blurry picture of the little girl named V.S. I knew that it could be any one of the babies and I didn't obsess over this one child. I was just drawn to her every time. I really strongly figured it would be another little girl named Inna that we would be matched with out of all of them. But when our casemanager called with the referral, as soon as the V-sound came out of his mouth, I knew it was the same V that I'd seen all those months and I was full of peace knowing that it was her. When we went to the MOE for the official referral, when the director turned the computer screen for us to see her picture, it was the same picture I'd seen for 10 months.

It takes getting into the pit sometimes to appreciate joy. I'm usually a pretty joyful person. Even in my pit yesterday, I was remembering the scripture Psalm 30:5 . . ."weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning."

I couldn't get through this without my faith in God. I know that when I get down low in the pit, God hasn't walked away from me, I've walked away from Him.

This horrible wait makes no sense to me. It may never make sense. I know God's ways are not my ways. I also know that He is all powerful, and if He wanted to snap His fingers and make everything fall right in place for V to come home next week, He could. For some reason He has chosen not to do that (not for lack of my begging Him). But I know that He loves her even more than I do.

I'm climbing up, it stinks in the pit . . .