Timing

During my first week as a student at Harding University, I heard someone say, "I've known her a couple of months, but they were 'Harding months'. It was the first time I had heard someone express this shared sense that at this stage of our life time was flowing differently. The beginning of our marriage was another wacky time when it felt like we were packing decades of "big experiences" into weeks and months. (got married, moved, changed jobs, moved again, took in foster kids, took in those kids' parents, family deaths, changed jobs again, foster kids returned to family, moved again)

 Neuroscientist  David Eagleman explains it like this:
The more detailed the memory, the longer the moment seems to last. This explains why we think that time speeds up when we grow older,—why childhood summers seem to go on forever, while old age slips by while we’re dozing. The more familiar the world becomes, the less information your brain writes down, and the more quickly time seems to pass.

While not the first time I've felt this way, the past month has been an amazing example of this phenomenon.  The calendar reminds us only a few weeks have passed, but they've been great big long ones--and it seems the coming weeks may be even bigger.

We returned from (what we thought of as) a whirlwind time in the US on December 13. We were settling in for some slow times, some waiting. We knew there wouldn't be many visiting groups to the mission for a while, we knew most government agencies and other organizations would be on holiday and in the reflective new year planning season. We saw this as a time to work on all those big projects that get shuffled to the back burner when things are hectic, and a time to focus on hospitality and relationships. The next few months were clearly going to be the sort that slip by all too quickly.

We worked on glasses inventory, planned for children's bible programs, delivered "smile boxes", sorted through boxes of donations, organized school supply distributions, and had various kids/teens parties at our house twice a week.

Then on January 13, precisely a month after our return to Nicaragua, we were sitting at our dining room table with two case workers from MiFamilia completing our adoption home study. I can't express how surprised we were with the timing. We delivered our paperwork to the ministry of families the day before we flew to the states in November, and based on the 20 months that it took to establish residency with the immigration department, we expected to settle in for a long wait before there was any action. But one week after dropping off an updated form, the case workers were asking folks around town their impressions of us.

Those same case workers explained the next steps in the process to us. They will prepare our report, it will be evaluated by the adoption council at their next monthly meeting. (*note that in this case "monthly" means they meet once during a month not necessarily that they meet every month). At that point, we will be given an appointment to come to Managua and find out if our application is approved or denied. If approved, our names go into the pool of families waiting to be matched with adoptive children. The case workers advised that the timing for this matching process is generally between six and eighteen months. After that comes an in-home adaptation period and if affirmed by the council, the legal process of formalizing an adoption can begin.

So, excited about this progress we returned to our projects, settling in for the first of many coming wait-ings to find out if we might be approved.

>>>>Now, I just have to insert that "waiting" has such a negative connotation to many people, but I find it kind of comforting. I think I am good at it. To me, waiting signifies that your actions/decisions are not needed. Your part, for now, is done. I like that feeling. Maybe that means I'm super-spiritually patient. Maybe that means that I'm far too lazy. Maybe it means that I am deeply indecisive. (Yeah, O.K., I know, it's not the first one.)

Just 23 short days from the home study a phone call came:
"Will you accept two children?"
"Will you come to Managua on Monday?"

These last few days have been long and passed slowly. Not just because we are too excited to sleep at night. There is so much to do, and think, and feel packed into so few hours. What happened to the waiting?

And suddenly it is Monday. We met with the ministry of family (who are sooooo nice!) and heard the case file on some precious little ones. In less than an hour we were headed across town to the shelter to meet them.

After a little while with balls, dolls and swings, the counselor and case worker were explaining that papers granting us permission for an off site visit were complete.  Lunch, playing, sight-seeing...the day was a whirlwind of play-dough and giggles and french fries and getting to know you questions.

And already, rather than feeling like the first day we met, it feels like the first night we are apart.

We dashed back to Jinotega to gather some clothes and make sure things are in order. Tomorrow we will head back to Managua for several days of visiting, followed (we all hope) by bringing these beautiful young hearts home.

During this period of adaptation, before the legal parts of the adoption take place, we will be tempering our excitement and desire to share every detail in order to protect the privacy and identity of P. and J. We hope you will use any moments of curiosity for details as a reminder to pray for these two very special and loved little ones.