I have a feeling I might be at the beach most days this summer.
I also apologize that I might write about the beach more than anyone cares to read…then again, it’s been five long years apart so hopefully you understand.
A couple weeks ago when my sister was here and we ventured to the beach two mornings in a row…the first ones of the season might I add… I remember such an overwhelming happy feeling. I couldn’t stop saying “I live here” and “this is my summer”. Thankfully sister didn’t think I was crazy- she laughed and agreed. But I felt hope.
It’s been a little while since I’ve felt hope. Going through a failed adoption leaves room for doubts that I’ve tried to shove far away and sadness I want to run away from. But the worst part is losing hope. I am thankful it didn’t last for long and I’m grateful that my ultimate hope is in Jesus- who I cling to tightly. However, the thoughts of going through the whole adoption ring again left me feeling tired and hopeless at times.
But that day on the beach sitting next to my two sons and my favorite sister…I felt hope. I felt alive. I saw the future in a different light. I don’t have to just “get through” the next few months in despair that we haven’t been given a 3rd baby but instead rejoice and enjoy the beauty that Jesus has brought me to. I get to introduce my boys to the ocean- one of the greatest loves of my life. I know, dramatica much…but it’s true.
Yes, I long for another baby. But at this very moment I am content. I know that I have Jesus to thank for that. Hope brings a new day. And that new day is here.