I wrote this original post on October 11, setting it to autopost on the 13th. Even in the brief time in between, our story has quickly changed, but I thought the original post still had merit. The update follows:
Our dossier is now being forwarded to the Democratic Republic of Congo for translation and court approval. We now won’t hear anything about our case until it comes out of court. The cases that are just coming out of court now were submitted in April. Nearly six months of silence. Our case could take as little as one month, or as many as six or more. All we can do is wait.
Sometimes silence is enjoyable. Sometimes it is frustrating. Sometimes it is absolutely painful.
I tend to think of spriritual silence as being the latter two. To want to hear something from God, anything from God, but to only be met with silence is difficult. I wonder: Have I done something wrong? Is God punishing me? How can I get the lines of communication open again?
I read these words from My Utmost for His Highest today:
“When you cannot hear God, you will find that He has trusted you in the most intimate way possible— with absolute silence, not a silence of despair, but one of pleasure, because He saw that you could withstand an even bigger revelation. If God has given you a silence, then praise Him— He is bringing you into the mainstream of His purposes. A wonderful thing about God’s silence is that His stillness is contagious— it gets into you, causing you to become perfectly confident so that you can honestly say, ‘I know that God has heard me.’ His silence is the very proof that He has.”
These words reminded me that spiritual silence is a blessing. I don’t have to be frustrated or hurt. God has heard me, and His silence implies trust, not punishment.
Lamentations 3: 25-32, NIV
The LORD is good to those whose hope is in him,
to the one who seeks him;
it is good to wait quietly
for the salvation of the LORD.
It is good for a man to bear the yoke
while he is young.
Let him sit alone in silence,
for the LORD has laid it on him.
Let him bury his face in the dust—
there may yet be hope.
Let him offer his cheek to one who would strike him,
and let him be filled with disgrace.
For no one is cast off
by the Lord forever.
Though he brings grief, he will show compassion,
so great is his unfailing love.
Welcome silence. Feel free to stay a while. Indeed, God has heard me, and His love is unfailing.
Update: At the time of the writing above, I wasn’t even sure if our mountain of paperwork had made it to the Democratic Republic of Congo, and our social worker emailed me this afternoon to let me know that not only had it made it, but it was already translated into French, processed in court, put before a judge, and today he approved it! We passed court!
The wait that I mentioned above that might take six months took just DAYS! The judge is new, and very pro-adoption. It was taking him a while to learn the process, but now that he has, he is processing cases in RECORD time. Four families, including ours, passed court today. I can hardly believe it!
Our hearts are pounding, our heads are spinning, and our hands are lifted in praise to the God who cares deeply for the fatherless!