Failed. We’ve all been there. We’ve felt that sting of disappointment & burden of doubt. But in adoption, the label of 'failed' holds an entirely different meaning. It is built by delicate intricacies of a weighty decision, usually born from brokenness in some form. I’ve felt that, lived it, bought the t-shirt to prove it. And statistically speaking, a significant number of hopeful adoptive parents will feel it too. I still remember looking over the ocean watching the waves crashing onto the tiny grains of sand, as my hopes and dreams of what could have been shattered into a million pieces with one phone call. Failed. Sitting there with my face in my hands, asking all of the million questions about what I did wrong for her to change her mind. And as hard as it was, my response is, can you blame her? She took one look at her sweet, beautiful boy who grew inside of her and that she knows in ways no one else will and said that she needed to try. Powerful, really. Today, that’s not necessarily the space I want to speak to. Maybe someday we can do that. I would love it. And if you are reading this and are walking through a failed match, sit with me here. I promise it will be worth it. I look back at that time of absolute grief and instead of seeing tear stained cheeks & callused knees, I see sovereignty. God’s absolute sovereignty. Beauty from ashes. Gardens from graves. In Isaiah 46, Isaiah is writing to the people of Israel as their faith wavered between pagan gods and the Lord God. The people of Babylon, maybe you know that story. Isaiah shares God’s affirmations of His own uniqueness, lordship, knowledge, and control of the future. God’s rightful authority, power, freedom to bring about everything He intends to happen, and that nothing happens except what He purposes. God’s sovereignty. Isaiah desires them to hope in their future while feeling confident that God is for them in their present. And that’s what I see now. I look back at that space in my story, thanking God that we had a consultant that helped us see through the dust of the shattered pieces to the hope found in Jesus. Someone to walk me through the unknowns of trusting God to make something beautiful from that grief. Giving me the confidence to say ‘yes’ to what was next for me. That sweet, baby boy of her’s was never mine to hold and that’s okay with me. Because you see, I get to see the beauty of God’s sovereignty in the eyes of a boy I get the treasure of looking into every day. I see it when I look outside my window and see him planting a tree with his dad. I see it when the deepest dimples appear on his sweet face as he laughs. I see it when he plays with such wild imagination of castles, Spiderman, Buzz & Woody. I feel it when he hugs my neck and says, “I love you best”. Failed is a word we never like to hear, do we? We avoid, fear, and hide from it at almost every cost. But let me be someone to tell you that even in the deepest pits of grief and fear, in adoption and otherwise, that there is a place of safety and assurance. A place where failing is not the end of your story. Trusting in the absolute sovereignty of God looking back at your past, being held in your present, and giving you a hope for your future. ISAIAH 46: 9-11
9 Remember the former things, those of long ago; I am God, and there is no other; I am God, and there is none like me. 10 I make known the end from the beginning, from ancient times, what is still to come. I say, ‘My purpose will stand, and I will do all that I please.’ 11 From the east I summon a bird of prey; from a far-off land, a man to fulfill my purpose. What I have said, that I will bring about.
2 Comments
Wendy Tekler
5/25/2021 11:53:53 am
Just beautiful! You found your calling!
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Lianna
6/7/2021 07:57:35 am
Incredibly tender and beautiful, my heart...many blessings on your new journey MacKenzie
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AuthorMacKenzie Mygatt Archives
February 2023
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