We expected to be heading back to Ethiopia to take custody of our son three to six weeks after returning from the first trip. That won't happen. It might not happen for three to six months.

We're on God's clock. We always have been. But recently that fact has become more and more apparent, and it offers what little peace we have.

When you pursue an inter-country adoption, you put yourself at the mercy of a country with its own culture, laws and policies. The American way is the least motivating factor in their business decisions.

Somehow, the Ethiopian government and its agencies think they can do whatever they want whenever they want. Shouldn't they be more concerned about what I want and when I want it? They aren't.

This process has been very instructive for me. I have learned a lot about patience and faith and really believing in God's perfect timing. God doesn't hurry.

An agency we are waiting on to make crucial decisions is not only withholding rulings for our agency, but when they do resume it will be at 12 percent of the normal capacity. The idea of slowing down a stalled process seemed impossible –– until the e-mail came Monday.

Do I still believe God is in control? If I do, then why is waiting so hard? Shouldn't I find peace in knowing that his timing would be far superior in every way to mine? I should. But "should" and "do" are not synonyms.

I expect Ethiopia to somehow work within my expectations when the United States government can barely manage to keep the doors open. Congress narrowly avoided a government shutdown this week. They gave themselves a two-week window to seek a more permanent solution. If the government does shut down, it is likely that non-essential personnel in Embassies would be furloughed. At that point, all inter-country adoptions would be halted until the impasse is breached.

So for now, I am working on my patience and trying to ensure that my faith works in concert with my thoughts and emotions. I wrote in a previous column about God as a father figure and seeking out the "greater McDonalds." My son wanted to stop at a McDonalds, but I knew there was a McDonalds with a playground –– a greater blessing –– just a few blocks down the road.

My son was very upset with me for driving by his choice of restaurant when I had promised he could choose. When we "finally" pulled into the greater McDonalds, he saw why I had made him wait.

We expected to be heading back to Ethiopia to take custody of our son three to six weeks after returning from the first trip. That won't happen. It might not happen for three to six months.

Why is God making us wait? Is there a better McDonalds in our future?
Maybe. But until then, I'll be talking to him about it every day, asking him to get us there as quickly as possible.

God doesn't need my advice, and I'm happy about that. His clock is better than mine and, because of that, I should be glad that we are being delayed.

I should be glad. Maybe soon I will be.