Over time the
anger within me subsided. I learned to accept the final outcome, even though my
questions still begged for answers. My heart leaned more toward absolute
surrender, and healing loomed closer than I knew.
The first
weekend in May, I attended a spiritual retreat for women after a friend
suggested it. I struggled with mixed feelings about the retreat. My husband
attended the one for men the weekend before and came home different, almost
like a new person. I knew I needed the time away, but I didn’t know a soul
there. Since I’d already taken the time off of work and arranged for a
substitute to cover my class for two days, I went, but reluctantly.
This retreat
differed from any other retreat I attended in my life. The women did almost
everything corporately, and the leaders packed the schedule tightly, leaving little
room for reflection or time alone with God. However, God used a few periods of
silence to speak to my heart.
I almost
laughed when I heard the whole weekend themed around the concept of restoration.
“Okay, God,
I’m listening. I’ve been on a quest for healing for the last seven months. I
guess I’m exactly where You want me this weekend.”
Once again, the
songs hit a chord deep within my soul as we sang about God turning our weeping into
dancing, lifting a weight of sadness from us to give us joy again. Would God do
that for me? Did I still have a reason to sing?
I met some
incredible ladies that weekend, and I found a kindred spirit who remains a dear
friend even today. She and I connected almost immediately, and we barely spent a
moment apart whenever we found a chance to hang out together. I thanked God for
giving me this new, dear friend to help me continue through this journey.
Many tears
spilled that weekend, which happens often on spiritual retreats, but not a
single tear belonged to me. I watched others bear their hearts to one another
and let go of hurts they held onto for far too long. Seeing their walls come
down helped me realize how many walls I’d built up around myself. I suddenly
saw how many people reached out to me over the last several months only to have
me push them away.
My heart finally
softened. I really didn’t have to do this alone.
The final day
of the retreat, God pressed heavily on my heart and asked me to trust Him. I
wanted so badly to grow in my faith again, but as long as I held on to my whys,
my faith couldn’t grow. I couldn’t grow. I needed to trust Him even if I never found
answers. Did I trust His character more than I trusted in His power to bring it
all together?
Holding on to
Juan David and Viviana kept me stuck in a miserable pit of self-pity. I knew
they held me back from the growth I desperately wanted. I silently cried out to
God that morning, finally surrendering those children to their Father who gave
them to me in the first place.
“God, I do
still trust You with them, even if I never know anything else about them. I
trust You to give them the family they deserve.” I felt like a huge weight
lifted from my shoulders.
Our final
hour, each woman shared how God spoke to her during the retreat. I stood there
in front of everyone with tears finally streaming down my cheeks.
“I came here
grieving the loss of two children after a failed adoption. These have been the
hardest six months of my entire life. God took my faith at its strongest point
and crushed it.”
Then, without
knowing where the words even came from, I continued, “But I believe He broke
us, broke our family, in order to make something beautiful out of our story.”
I did not realize God began to lift us out of
the valley that very moment, carrying us right back up toward the mountain we confidently
stood on a year ago.
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