After seven weeks of waiting, the day of our first of our embassy appointments arrived this week. Given all of the chaos going on surrounding adoptions from the Congo, I had a sense of dread rather than excitement. I called or emailed our agency to make sure everything was ready to go, and that the appointments would be met, both the week before our appointments and the day before.
I was assured each time that everything was ready to go.
The day after our appointment, I received an email that our representative in the Congo did not have one of the necessary documents, and did not go to the appointment — the one that took seven weeks to get.
Then in an even more cruel twist, I have found out from several different sources that the document he was missing wasn’t even necessary for our appointment to begin with. There was no legitimate reason for missing our appointment.
We have no idea when we’ll get another.
We are frustrated and frankly, feel betrayed by those who are representing us.
Our kids will spend an entire year in an orphanage before we can go get them. This delay means our son doesn’t get to start kindergarten on time. It means we will now have to pay to have our home study redone, spending money that should be going to buying a swing set, for Christian school tuition, or even a trip to Disney. And every month we pay hundreds of dollars to support the incompetence that keeps them there.
Picture in your mind the children in your life who are most important to you. Maybe your own kids, nieces or nephews, grandkids, or kids that you babysit.
Now imagine that they have been taken against their will and put in an orphanage in Africa. There is no air conditioning in the scorching equatorial heat. They get one meal a day and very limited access to water, and the water they do have access to is not clean. So they have intestinal parasites. And ringworm. And scabies. And lice. Medical treatment for these? Nonexistent. Malaria is frequent. Baths are rare. They sleep several to a mattress, with no blankets or pillows, and their entire life exists between the high stone walls immediately surrounding the house with no grass, no playground. There are no toys. They are taught that they have no personal property and that the rule of life is survival of the fittest. No significant learning opportunities. No one rocking them to sleep or reading to them before bed. They fall behind developmentally. They begin to fall off the growth charts.
Remember, these are the kids who are most important to you. How does that make you feel?
For us, this is reality. These are not imaginary children. They are, in fact, our children. And as good as it sounds to say, “It’s all in God’s perfect timing,” “I hope you have peace about what’s going on,” and “It will all be worth it,” it rings hollow in the face of the suffering that they (not us) are facing. This has never been about Ken and I. This isn’t wistfully thinking, “Gee, it would be nice to have some kids running around.” This is an all out battle against the gates of Hell for the souls of two children, now OUR children, because this is what the Bible tells us that true religion is all about, and God has called us to the front lines. But frankly, the enemy is having a heyday right now, and his fiery arrows are striking our children.
Forgive me for my rant, but I think if these were your kids, you’d share in the rant too. Forgive me for not wanting to talk about all of this in casual circles when asked, “So, when are you going to get your kids?” The ugliness of the situation runs far more deep than I can summarize in two sentences, and is certainly more than I can post on this blog.
Just pray. The power of prayer the only thing that can rescue this situation and get our kids out before things get worse.