Oh God, I cry out to you. We cry out to you.
In the midst of reccuring needs for paperwork, we’re frustrated.
After far too long with no official update, we’re discouraged.
Aren’t we following your call? Why have you been silent?
Hope seems to tease us over the horizon, and vanishes before the dawn ever comes.
Time stands still, and flows steadily on without us.
Stop. Breathe deep.
I see others following you, Jesus, and doors swing wide open.
I watch those who don’t even know you get what they desire.
I hear others struggling, and praising you for quick response.
Meanwhile your daughter is waiting. Your son is waiting.
Your children are waiting. Will you move? Will you speak?
Stop. Breathe deep.
God you hear our cries.
In the midst of our notarizations and birth certificates.
As we check our e-mail hourly.
As we flood our agency with reminders and requests.
You are near. You have not turned away. You will not leave us.
Hope is not over the horizon. Hope is here in our midst.
Hope is with your children, as they are waiting.
Stop. Breathe deep.
In a last minute late-night e-mail – you are here.
In the potential for immunizations – you are here.
In an overwhelming response to a fundrasier – you are here.
In the prayers of our children already tucked into bed – you are here.
In the transformation of a heart that might otherwise feel too easily contented – you are here.
And there. With her. With them.
And so the Truth comes – as we spend time with you, we are with her.
Lord, come near. I want to be with her.
With you.
Stop. Breathe deep.
words from wick 