Two Weeks

It has been fourteen days since we first heard the news. In some ways, it feels like so much has happened since that dark day. In many ways, it feels as if we have not moved forward one inch.

The first week felt as if we were in a fog, wading through dark and heavy waters. We wanted to do something, to try to get more information--but it seemed as if all doors were locked, all lips shut tightly. We still didn't even know what exactly our agency had been charged with doing.

On the Thursday right after, a well known adoption lawyer met with all of the affected families via a conference call. She advised us toward what would likely happen. Although she certainly did not make any promises, contingent on Ethiopia's response to the circumstances and the proof that our individual children were proven to be orphans, it could be possible for the adoptions to be completed. But it would not be cheap. It would not be easy.

At the time, the conversation concluded that we would all likely need to either hire a lawyer to help us complete our adoptions or to hire another agency to assist us.

As we began to call around to other agencies, many of them treated us as if we had the plague. I went to the online adoptive parent support groups, and the responses there were similar. In these groups, I felt despised and looked down upon. Suddenly, all of these other adoptive parents, who had breathed no warnings or advice on our agency previously, claimed that any families foolish enough to be found in our position must have not cared at all about ethics. We all must have only cared for ourselves and "getting" a baby. We must have crawled out from under a rock. These words stung. We felt shunned by the very ones who were meant to support us in this adoption world.

Many of the adoption agencies do not want to touch any of us families with a ten foot pole. Many of them just flat out said they would not help. Others may help at a high cost. Most of them are experiencing their own set of problems. Again, we felt pushed away and cast off. Does no one care what happens to these children?

We did find a few agencies who, although still asking high payments, would agree to help us contingent on a positive OSV (orphan status verification). At least it could be an option.

To be honest, an OSV is at the top of our own list. We want to know the truth about Oliver. Whatever it is. I count my role in his life at this point to fight for justice for Oliver. If he has a birth family searching for him, I want to find them and deliver him to them. If he is truly an orphan, I want to give him a mother. I want to be his family. And I will fight for him. I will fight for the truth.

By Friday, the children had all been moved out of our agency's care center. No one seems to know exactly where they are. There are speculations. At this point, they still have not all been found. For two weeks now, I have no idea where my son is. To me, he is lost...somewhere in Ethiopia. We have people searching.

God, please help us find him. My stronghold of truth at this fearful prospect is that my God does know exactly where Oliver is. Father, lead us to him. 

The following Tuesday, we officially hired our investigator. By late evening, we prayerfully e-mailed our signed contract and wired the payment. So very scary. Praying desperately that we can trust them. Praying fervently that they will be able to discover the truth.

That same evening, God-in His sovereignty-had me preparing to teach on that week's lades Bible study topic--Trusting God When Life Hurts. The truth of the Word has been like a salve to my aching heart. It seems that every other day, we have received disheartening or devastating news related to this whole situation. These truths have been my sustenance. They have been my daily bread, nourishing me to be strong with my Father's strength. God is still good. 

With King David in Psalms, I cry, "My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." I battle to think on this truth.

Then Wednesday afternoon, my eyes laid on the full indictment, the details of the charges against our agency. Until now, my heart had been holding out hope that perhaps the charges would not be so very horrible. But now I read through them. I read of deceit and bribery, falsifying government documents, coercion, dirty government workers, wicked lies...

I felt dirty. Dirty that any part of myself could have been complicit in this. Filthy. Disgusted. Seethingly angry at the injustices. Because of some man's greed, these children may never be safely placed in a home, sheltered from further possibility of these wicked things. Because of these evil ones, my Oliver, who has already experienced the fear and loneliness of abandonment, was now abandoned yet again-torn from the new home (orphanage) that he'd grown accustomed to, from the nannies who fed and cared for him. Once again, afraid and isolated in a foreign place. My heart breaks for yet another great loss in his life. The fear he must be feeling.

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The following morning, directly after hiring our investigator, we received an e-mail from them. They had already tracked down the man who found Oliver originally. From the first details, it was appearing that his story was checking out. The investigative agency told us that this is probably the fastest that they had every tracked down needed info to secure an OSV. Record speed. We knew why. We have had hundreds of warriors, bowing before the Father's throne, interceding on Oliver's behalf. We rejoiced at this shred of light in the midst of the darkness.

Almost a whole week has passed since that news. We have no new information. We still do not know where Oliver is. We had hoped that our conference call with the US Department of State on Monday morning would offer more direction, more information...Unfortunately, they had nothing new to say. No more information.

So we wait.

God is my strength. He is my Hope. He is my Shelter.