Perhaps he's with Carmen Sandiego...

We had a conference call today with our agency.  Chin@ is saying no.  Definitively.  Were our agency to make more of a ruckus on our behalf would be to put in jeopardy the adoptions of many other people.  

Oddly, we both were at peace when we learned of the decision.  I think Sloan and I were both surprised at that.  Not that we haven’t and aren’t grieving, just that we have been here before, the giving of our hearts to a child that was not to be ours and that has turned out perfectly. 

Whenever I’ve spoken to folks going through the domestic adoption process, people always ask me if I regret getting blankets monogrammed and going whole hog for Emma Sloan.  I suspect the same could be said of our hearts getting set on little J.  But “all in” is the only way I know how to love.  I’ve said it before, when the roof caves in, it doesn’t matter if your hopes have built a rancher or a high rise, you are still standing in rubble.  So build a freakin' high rise.  

Pain hurts.  Sad things are sad.  And my brother and King Jesus has taught me that loves always bears pain for the sake of a greater glory.  I suspect that once we finally hold and kiss our son we will remember this pain as the agony of labor and shout from the rooftops about the goodness and faithfulness of God.

For God is at work.  

This afternoon, I took the picture of J off of our mantle and sat the kids down in our family room.  I said, “Henry and Grace, I need to tell you something sad.  This little boy is not our Charlie.  He is not your little brother.”  

Henry eyes got glassy and he trembled as he asked, “Who is he?”  I told him his name and said that our Charlie did not live in China.  Through tears Henry replied, “Well where is Charlie?”

I said, “Henry, I do not know.”

And my darling son said, “Well we need to ask Jesus to find him.  He could be anywhere!”

“Yes,” I said, the words sinking in.  “He. Could. Be. Anywhere.”

At present, we are sitting still and trusting that God will show us where in the world our son is.  We are investigating every avenue available to us.  Perhaps he is in Asia, perhaps Africa, perhaps he is in the foster system here in the States.  We don’t know.  So in some respects, this grief also brings with it some excitement.

If you had asked me on Monday if I would be this together when I heard the news, I would’ve laughed at you.  I cried so much on Monday that I had to use Afrin just to breathe.  But God in his wisdom sent Sloan on a business trip so that both of us only had Him to process the news with. 

He has been and will continue to be faithful to us.  

For those of you who have donated to our adoption fund, we fully understand if you want your money back.  I will say that most of the monies we have paid will be transferable to whatever program we do pursue.  Our homestudy is complete and will be reworked for another program.  Once we determine what direction we see God leading us, we will get our case worker to change things up as it was written with the Chin@ program in mind.  I can tell you that our family is NOT complete.  There is at least one more Phillips somewhere out there.  

And we. will. find. him.

Please also join us in continuing to pray for J.  He is such a great little guy.  His diagnosis is so much scarier on paper than we suspect it actually is.  He will always hold a unique place in our hearts.  While he is not our son, we pray that he will find his forever family soon.  

Thank you for your emails, calls, texts, and messages.  I especially appreciate the few friends who’ve said, “Hey, if you need to just call someone and scream obscenities, call me.  And if you need booze, I’m there for you too.”  You ladies speak my love language. And for those of you who've cried alongside me and over the phone, thank you.