Our first visit to the orphanage was perhaps one of the toughest days of our lives. We went about an hour outside the city, through the rural KZ countryside to a small village called Paludina. It is here that the orphanage for 4-7 year-olds is located. Within 10 minutes we are introduced to two young beautiful boys. We go on to play with them for about an hour.
Unfortunately, we knew instantly that these two boys were not ours. It's hard to explain why, but we just knew. Saying 'no' to two orphans was one of the toughest things we have ever done.
We went back to Paludina to visit another 5 orphans (no siblings). We played with them for about an hour, but again, we felt no connection to any of them. Saying goodbye to those kids was again an emotionally draining.
That wasn't the end though. Afterward, we were informed that there were no other children in our age range (under 5 and 2) available for adoption. Suddenly we were faced with the prospect of adopting two children whom we knew were not ours, or heading home alone. A third option would be to adopt a child much older than we were expecting.
We had the weekend to ponder this. That first weekend was perhaps one of the hardest of our lives. We wrestled through the 30+ hours with a range of emotions. Why did God abandon us? Why did he set our hearts one way, only to have reality dictate another? We desperately tried to trust that he could overcome any obstacle, but we couldn't see how? Were we wrong to desire the children we had 'expected'? Were we supposed to adopt from KZ? Were we cut out for adoption at all??
Needless to say, it was a rough two days of struggle with God. We knew in our heads thaat God is soveriegn over all, but we just couldn't see it. The government was adamant, therre were no other children within our age range available.
On Sunday night, we were informed that we would be meeting another sibling group (ages 4 and 8). We again had strong reservations. We just weren't ready for an older child. Were we?
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