Jacob's Wounded Hip

"(Jacob) wrestles with the angel of (God) and he begs the angel for a blessing (Genesis 32:23-32). And what does the angel of Yahweh do? He strikes Jacob on the hip and wounds him—and for the rest of his life he limps. What an unexpected and unwanted blessing! And then the angel of Yahweh says, “Henceforth, you will not be called Jacob but you will be called Israel because Israel means ‘he who struggles with God wins’” (Genesis 32:28). It becomes the very name of the whole Jewish people.

When we struggle with God we always lose, and only later do we know that such losing was, in fact, winning. That is what we mean by “falling upward.” Wrestling with God, with life, and with ourselves is necessary. The blessing usually comes in a wounding of some sort and for most of us it is an entire life of limping along to finally see the true and real blessing in our life."

 The story of Jacob has come across my path (and Micah's) several times in the past week. The above is from an email of contemplations that I get daily, written by Father Richard Rohr.
 
I feel like my hip is in the process of being mercifully wounded.  I have experienced enough pain in my life to know that I whole-heartedly believe that pain is oftentimes the surest way to intimacy with God, to growth, to peace and freedom.  I am who I am because of painful things in my life.

But none of this makes the experience of the pain any less painful and gut-wrenching.

Every time we get adoption news right now, it is bad.  Bipolar disorder.  Known to lie and exaggerate (we already knew this one).  An entire family who is unsupportive of her intention to choose adoption.  Who wants her to keep the baby, knowing full well that she can't take care of him (as she isn't even taking care of her 15-month-old daughter and apparently never really has).  We have learned that the grandmother prefers for Timon to stay in their family, where she and Nicole's aunt and other family members will take care of him.  Nicole's daughter currently sleeps in this grandmother's room.  The grandmother prefers this scenario for Timon to him being placed for adoption. Because "he is family."
This really pisses me off.  I understand that he is her blood relative, and she doesn't want him to be placed for adoption. I can understand that that would be very hard for her.  But the idea that it would be best for him to stay with his blood relatives over adoptive parents in this case is beginning to seem more ludicrous the more I know.  I meant what I said last post about the fact that we cannot know what is best for Timon, and that I have to trust that if this adoption fails, somehow that is what's best for Timon - or at least that God will use it for good in his life.  But it's becoming harder and harder for me to believe that staying where he is could be the best thing for him.  Blood is not always the answer.  The idea that he would be better off bouncing around from house to house, caretaker to caretaker, than he would be with Micah and Douglas and me - in one house, with two parents - the same two parents every single day...this idea seems ridiculous, and it really makes me angry.

What if he inherits Nicole's bipolar disorder?  The worst thing you can do for a child with that genetic predisposition is give them an unstable home environment.  They need consistent wake/sleep patterns, low stress levels, consistent support.  I am terrified OUT OF MY MIND at the idea of raising a child with bipolar, but I will do it if I am meant to do it.  And I will work my little ADD ass off to give him as much consistency in his routine as I possibly can every single day if that's what it takes.

The family doesn't get to make the decision.  Nicole is the only one who can sign the papers and decide.  But having an entire unsupportive family is less than ideal, to say the least.

The real bitch of it is that we can do nothing but limp forward into this dark space where we will very possibly get burned.  Because we will not choose against Timon.  We will limp wherever we have to limp to be there until the last second, until Nicole makes her decision.  And if she makes the decision to "keep the baby," which really means to let him be raised by various family members, then we, with our broken hips, will limp all the way back home and find a way to keep walking forward.