Another Country Closes its Doors...

Yesterday Rwanda closed its doors to new dossiers being submitted at this time, while they focus on becoming a part of the Hague Convention.  Two weeks ago it was Nepal, and now it is Rwanda.  There are several bloggers that I follow who were on the path to adopt from Rwanda.  Some had their dossier submitted (which it seems they will still process).  Some were only weeks, even days, away, after months of preparing and waiting on paperwork to be finalized. 

I can only imagine the heartache these families are feeling.  Please pray for these parents who were dreaming of the faces of their little ones.  Especially pray for the little ones in Rwanda who still need homes and loving families.  And while it seems that nothing goes quickly in the world of adoption, pray that the Rwandan government moves quickly to restore the adoption process.

This most recent closure reminds me once again of how uncertain this process can be.  It reminds me that our faith cannot be placed in any government, agency, or country, or any child that we hope to call our own.  My life belongs to the savior of this world.  And come what may, I must trust in his unfailing love and goodness.  If every possible avenue for us to bring a child into our home falls to pieces, will I still declare God's goodness?  Will I still run the race set out for me?  How tightly do I hold my future children in my hands?  What if it doesn't turn out quite how I expected (that's happened plenty already!)?  What if instead, God told me that he was going to send us to a place like Rwanda or Ethiopia, and we would care for orphans and widows there?  What if we didn't have a piece of paper that said we were the rightful parents to those children, and yet they all called us Mother and Father?  Does it still mean as much?  Yes.  And while I don't anticipate this adoption falling to pieces, I am reminded again that not everything may turn out the way I expected.  And my babies don't belong to me.  They belong to my Father, just as I do.  I will call them my own, and yet I know their lives are not in my hands, but in the hands of the one who saved me.