I Pace the Floor

It's 1:00 in the morning...and, I'm wide awake.  I'm not awake because I have to be.  My bed lies empty and beckons me to rest.  But, I can't.  My body aches.

This isn't an ache like the flu or the result of a good work-out.  It's the ache that comes from yearning...for longing...from dreaming.

I would like to believe that I am simply awake because we are on vacation and I'm so relaxed.  But, that's a lie.  I'm pacing the floor.  If I was at home, I'd be cleaning and moving furniture.  There's something so therapeutic about the physical activity of moving a large piece of furniture.  Maybe it is the proof that I am strong enough to push a couch...or just being active and ignoring the nagging thoughts that haunt me.

Tonight, I leave the furniture alone and simply pace the floor.

You see, tomorrow begins another fundraiser.  It is one more time that we ask our family, friends and community to support our adoption.  And, doubt is taking over.  My mind races with worries:
"What if no one bids?"
"What if you offend people?"
"What if the donated items don't sell for a price that honors the item's true value?"
"What if this fundraiser doesn't make enough money? What next?"
The worries and negativity threaten to take over as I cry out in prayer to a God that has brought me here...to this place of angst.  The desire for another child and the unclear, uncertain path of making that a reality.

I remain convicted that God has called Brian and I to adopt another child.  Yet, I worry.  I want proof.  I want an easy path.  I want the MEGA check to show up in the mail so I don't have to ask for help.  And, so I pace the floor.

I have tried sitting down.  I've opened up the I-pad and wasted the minutes away with Facebook, Twitter, Instagram (aren't I the modern mom?!?) and e-mails.  I have even opened the Kindle app to read one of the three books I have started.  Yet, my mind wanders and my body aches to move.

It seems surreal.  But, I can smell HER.  I can almost FEEL her tiny body in my arms.  And, I KNOW that she exists.  Call me crazy, but I know that this child for which we have prayed is just out of our reach.  My fingers ache to touch her hair and my lips almost tingle with the anticipation of kissing her sweet cheeks.  But, at this late hour, the "maybe child" has become a baby girl.  My body aches with anticipation...yearning...desire.  It feels almost as intense as the 8th month of each of my four pregnancies.  I have to move.  I have to act.

And, yet, there is nothing left to do. The silent auction website is ready.  The homestudy paperwork is done.  The first of many grant applications have been filled out.  So, I pace the floor.

I wait.  I yearn.  I seek.  God's hand is in this...and, it is His time to act.  Yet, I cannot let go.  I SO desire control...and God and I struggle.  He assures me that He is in control...and, I, like a caged tiger, pace the floor seeking control.

Down deep, I know I will have to conceed.  Every time I have given "up" and let God lead, that's when the best and most wonderful miracles occur.  Why is it so hard for me to recognize the pattern of God's continual provision and simply trust?

I don't know.  But for now, my heart takes over...and, in anticipation of all that may be, I pace the floor.