I have no idea what other prayer requests were brought forward that night, but we went up with Mason and asked for our church to pray for our changing family and the fear we still faced of potentially losing Timothy in a few weeks. I took Mason with us in the carrier, when another sweet friend, Jenny, whispered, "You can take him out and hold him.". "I can?", I asked so sheepishly it's almost embarrassing admitting how unsure of 'how to be' with a newborn I really was. So, I once again with trembling hands, took him from the carrier and held him against myself while our dearest friends prayed God's blessings and promises over us. It was a powerful moment. The emotional release while they prayed, when I processed what all we had been through that day. How God had worked in our favor and the protection of our sons. I realized, that while these visits, intended to transition Timothy, were a hurdle that would be hard to get over, HIS faithfulness to us was unchanging. And, although we could absolutely not interfere with the transition, I was comforted by the same overwhelming sense we'd had five months before, that these boys would be ours.
After getting help from Mimi and my Gram in learning how to bathe a newborn...again I ask, where are the instructions?!...we said goodnight to everyone, got the boys to bed, now singing to two boys the same bedtime song, and took our first deep breath of the day. We cried. We held on to each other and agreed to hold tight to our faith, no matter what happened. We promised to continue to love with reckless abandon and to trust in the same God who saw fit to bring these boys to us, that His timing and His plan was perfect and that we had to believe this with our whole heart. What good would it do if we did adopt them someday, to look back and say we guarded our hearts, or that we didn't have faith? The same God...and He is worthy.
|Mason with his Great Gram|