Still

Still. This word has two meanings to us right now. It is an adverb that describes the verb "waiting." As in, "We are still waiting to see where God directs us for our next step in our adoption process." We don't quite know yet what we should be doing as Haiti is trying to figure out what the new, revamped process will be. However, we do have confirmation that adoption is, in fact, open in Haiti and the U.S. is also willing to process applications. This is GREAT news! Remember how my last post said that we both felt like something big was about to happen? Well, it did! The very next day after writing that post God began to move. We received confirmation emails regarding Haiti being open again for adoption and a big prayer regarding an issue with Mark's business was answered in a huge way. This was something that we had been praying about for about 4 months.

Still. The other meaning is a state of being. We need to be still right now as we wait on and rest in God--trusting that He has our BEST in His mind. He knows what we need and He is so good to give His children good gifts. "Be still and know that I Am God." This is His Word to us. I am reminding myself very frequently that my job right now is to rest in Him and trust Him and His timing. I know that I probably sound like a broken record, but this is where I am in my learning and growing process.

In the meantime, please pray for Haiti. There is so much suffering, and I'm sure that I only know of a tiny bit of the true suffering. Families are living in patched together "shelters" made out of sheets and tarps. The rains have come and there is no basic sanitation and very little food. Babies and the elderly are sick. People are cold and wet all night and hot and humid all day. The billions of dollars of aid need to get to the people. Pray and help if you can.

Here is the latest post from the Livesay's blog (I don't know these people, by the way, I just found their blog a few months ago....)

"This is a photo of a family. A beautiful, strong family.

A mother, a father, and five of their six children.

The oldest son is 24 and has gone to school. He is their hope for a better future.

When he comes home from school he will join his mom and dad and brothers and sisters in a "home" with "walls" made of sheets and a "roof" made of woven banana leaves.

They might be able to cook some rice for dinner. They don't eat dinner every night. They need to be careful about their food and charcoal supply. If tonight is a night to cook, to eat, they will step outside of their "home" and cook in a large pot over charcoal just outside their front "door". If their neighbors need food, they will share.

When the sun begins to go down they will whisper to one another by candle light as they lie on thin mats placed on top of the rocks. Throughout the night the rain will fall and the sheets will be blown by the wind. They will move things around to try to avoid the steams of water that run through, under, and around their meager belongings. As hard as they try, they will not rest, they will not sleep.

The sun will rise, a new day will come, and they will survive another day."

We truly have so very much. Thank you, Lord. Please comfort Haiti tonight...