What do you say in a moment like this, when there are no words to be found. When you hug your Russian born child all day long, as your mourn for his best friends who no longer stand a chance of finding a home in our country?
We do the only thing we can do, pray.
We pray for all the lives affected by such a serious decision. Surely there are millions of souls who mourn with us today - both American, and Russian.
We pray for a spark, a shift in attitude, a subtle change that will reopen hearts that have been slammed closed. We ask for ears that will hear the pleas of the needy and reconsider. We ask that they will think about the big picture of the decision and not see the problem through their own eyes.
We ask that God would draw near to the millions that are also mourning, that He would take this time to pull those in need close to his side. That He would reveal Himself to the lowly, the way He revealed Himself to our son.
And mostly we need to remember that it really isn't our job as Americans to fix Russia's problems. It's not our job to rescue, save, or restore. Those things can only come from the healing that Christ brings. We need to remember to take our loss to the cross and leave it there.
One of my favorite mantras from our adoption process is: God has a perfect plan, and this is a part of it. We don't have to like it, but we do have to accept it. With those words in mind as I spend my day in mourning, holding my son for as long as he can stand me, I'll choose to be thankful. Thankful that my heart was stirred in time to do something about his needs. Thankful that God chose to bring hope to this one. And thankful that God has a perfect plan for the others.
Will you join me?