The Truth Hurts; The Truth Heals

Well, I’ve been searching desperately to find the right way to do this. This post is not easy to write, but I know I must write it. I can’t put it off anymore. No more stalling. No more excuses. It’s time. You deserve to know the truth. So here it is:

I was lied to. I was manipulated. I was deceived. I was robbed. Pure and simple. I was robbed…robbed of my time, robbed of my resources, robbed of my dignity, robbed of everything I hold dear. The unimaginable, the unthinkable, the unfathomable has happened.

After Esteban’s no show on the Sunday I arrived in Managua, I began to suspect something was not right. Something felt different, very different. It was an incredibly unsettling feeling. The fears and doubts that I had fought for so long were beginning to come alive like never before. But I still refused to believe…I kept holding on to hope…the hope and belief that my best friend and Nicaraguan brother was a good man, a trustworthy man, a loyal friend; the hope and belief that no human being could possess the capacity for such deception and malice. It was impossible. Or was it?

Wednesday, June 3, 2009, I finally learned the truth. I sat down with my lawyer in a crowded café in the heart of Managua, and slowly watched my entire world dissipate into dust. As we talked, it became evident that the one thing I had refused to believe was the new reality I needed to swallow. Esteban was not the man I thought he was. His deception runs deep and wide…it is unyielding and undeniable, and it’s scope is beyond imagination. Everything he has told me has apparently been a lie. There was no court last July, I never was granted custody. Will never appeared in any court. The crisis with the birth mother in January never happened, there was no final court. The adoption was never finalized. There were no documents, and therefore UPS never lost anything. Will was never living in Matagalpa the past 4 months; he was not attending high school in the morning and English school in the afternoon. He was, in fact, living in the ghetto with his aunt again. There were no extra judges or lawyers helping with the case. All those trips Esteban took into Managua that I paid for, those meetings with lawyers and government officials never happened. It never happened…

As my lawyer became aware of the lies I had been told, she became incredibly incensed. Esteban had used her as leverage in all this. She couldn’t believe that her good name had been used to perpetuate such deceit. Both of us couldn’t fathom what was happening…could someone really do this to another human being? I began to search for other possibilities, perhaps there was a good explanation…maybe this was just a big misunderstanding. Maybe my lawyer was lying to me…maybe she has ulterior motives…but then I stopped. The past year of my life began to flash before me. I began to recall the many conversations, the phone calls, the e-mails. I didn’t want to believe it, but I couldn’t ignore the truth any longer.

For the past few months I had fought the shadow of doubt. Secretly questioning, but outwardly defending. Many friends and family had tried to ask the question: “Can we trust Esteban?” I had been unwavering in my defense of him. I had spent so much time with this man…he had translated for two of my Project Serve teams…I felt like I sincerely knew him. He was my brother. He was committed to assisting me with this adoption. He was committed to my son. Of all the Nicaraguans I had ever come in contact with, I felt Esteban was the most trustworthy. Other friends of mine who had spent time with him confirmed this notion. And so I trusted. I wanted to trust…I needed to trust. This was my son’s life at stake, everything was on the line. There was no adoption agency, there was no one else who really knew my heart, who truly understood my passion for bringing my son home. I needed that one person to help me, to look out for my son, to help me communicate with my lawyer. 3000 miles from my son, attempting a seemingly impossible journey, thrown into unthinkable circumstances, I needed someone I could trust with my son’s life and this process. With Esteban I felt like I had found that person. I truly believed that God had brought him into our life for this purpose, that the intersection of our lives was part of a divine plan. I needed him. I trusted him.

And yet there were these shadows…the whole situation with the birth mother, my lawyer not being present at final court in January, the government randomly taking and releasing the final documents whenever they felt like it, UPS losing the docs, UPS saying the docs were delivered, never receiving scans of the docs as was promised, never having proof of the adoption… there were these shadows, but I had held on to my belief that Esteban was telling the truth. What would be gained from all these lies? It was inconceivable.

What about all the e-mails Wilber was sending me the past few months? He seemed to be enjoying school and his English was showing impressive improvements. But here again the deception runs deep. Esteban knew Will’s hotmail password, and was emailing me pretending to be Will, in order to maintain my confidence in the situation. This is the one lie that hurts the most…Will has explained that the past few months have been very difficult. He has been despondent and depressed thinking that I had forgotten about him, as we had no actual contact since the end of February. Here I was, thinking that I was corresponding through e-mails three times a week, when the reality was that Wilber was sitting in his aunt’s house wondering why I didn’t call. This kills me inside. This is where it hurts the most.

Of course there is also the financial reality of this story. You know very well that this adoption has been expensive, more so than I could have ever predicted. And now I understand why…the judges, the lawyers, the trials, the documents, the car rentals, the gas money, Will’s ‘expenses’, the school fees…it goes on and on. The reality is this: it would now seem that none of that money, or very little of it, actually made it to where it was supposed to be going. In 15 months, close to $15,000…gone, with nothing to show for it. I tried to do everything right, but in the end my naivety and my trusting spirit cost me more than I could have imagined. It is like a nightmare I can’t wake from.

So I sat there in that small café, face to face with this new reality, trying to make sense of what was happening. I was flooded with a thousand different emotions. What was I going to do? But then the most amazing thing occurred: I felt at peace. I felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I actually felt a sense of relief. Now I knew the truth. There were no more shadows of doubt. No more warring factions within my heart and my head. Now I knew the truth. And it felt good. Amidst the overwhelming sense of bewilderment and betrayal there was this undeniable peace. Where I expected bitterness and rage, there was acknowledgment and acceptance. There was no thirst for blood, no quest for vengeance. Yes I was devastated, hurt, angry, confused and sad. But the sensation that transcended all of those things was peace. A peace that passed human understanding. There was something else that began to rise up in me as well…a greater resolve to see this through and to not allow the devil to have victory. I will continue to fight even harder now, of this I am certain. I don’t understand what God is doing, but I need to trust that He is still for me, and He is still for my son. I refuse to throw in the towel. It’s not over yet.

But it still hurts…a lot. In fact, I feel the most ache for what my friends and family have endured because of these lies. We’ve been though so much together, an emotional and spiritual rollercoaster. It seems like it was all for nothing. The sleepless nights, the anxiety, the tears of despair, the many fervent prayers going up for situations that weren’t even happening…thinking that Wilber was legally my son, when in fact we’re still in process. Hope and despair, heartache and celebrations. Up and down. All I can say is that I’m so incredibly sorry that you were caught in the middle of this, and that these lies have potentially caused great distraction for you throughout the past year. I was communicating what I thought to be the truth. I always knew deep down that I could not walk this road alone, and so I asked for help. And so many of you have been so kind and generous to me, your financial assistance, your kind words, your many prayers. I can’t being to tell you what they have meant to me and to my son. I never want to take them for granted or minimize their effectiveness. Please don’t give up on me. Don’t give up on Wilber. He deserves better. He deserves to be home. We can’t give up. We won’t give up.

So where is the case now, you may ask? Well, it’s been moving slowly along the whole time. And while Esteban didn’t do anything to help the case, he didn’t really do anything to hurt it either. He never had contact with any judges or lawyers or government officials. He just fed me the lies and took my money. The process is nowhere near where we thought it was, but it’s still moving.

From the very beginning there were always two issues to work through: 1. the birth mother’s name was written incorrectly on Will’s birth certificate, and 2. The birth father was never issued a proper birth certificate. Then first issue went to trial and was resolved this past January. The second issue is at trial right now. The initial judge was going to resolve it months ago, but it moved to another judge who is taking his time with this because it’s the first time he’s come across this scenario. Nubia, my lawyer, told me that she hopes this trial is resolved within June. If that happens, then we can finally move to the Ministry of the Family, (for the first time), and have both Wilber and the birth mom sign. Then it needs to move to the adoption council, which meets randomly whenever they can. Nubia says that could be in August or September. Following that council, if everything is approved, we go to the final court where the judge makes the final decision. Following a successful final court, Wilber can finally get his new documents with his new name, and then we can finally get things moving with Canadian immigration.

So now we have actual things to pray for. Please pray that these next steps could happen quickly, and that Will could be home before the next school year. I know that seems unlikely, but I pray for a miracle here. Will is living at the aunt’s house again, and while it is not ideal, it is the best option for now. Nubia told me that it won’t cause any problems with the process, as some of the new Nicaraguan laws are more relaxed now. The aunt is not the enemy, as Esteban tried to make her out to be. She actually was trying to warn me about him for awhile, but knew that it was easier for him to convince me than it was for her. She actually seems to care a great deal for Wilber. Please pray for continued safety for him.

So that’s it for now. I’m sure you must have a zillion questions, and hopefully I’ll be able to address all of them in time. The one thing I will say is this: no matter how deeply Esteban has hurt me and my family and friends with his actions, now is not the time for bitterness, hate, and revenge. I will not and cannot excuse Esteban’s actions, but we must guard our hearts from the desire to bring our own brand of justice. The devil has destroyed too much already, and we must not allow him to get the upper hand by creating a spirit of hatred within us. Now is the time to draw on God’s power and grace. We must believe that God will deal with Esteban in his own way and in His own time, and we must not be consumed by thoughts of retribution. Peace and grace must prevail. My son deserves the best of us now, not the worst. He deserves our unyielding prayers and support. He deserves to feel the grace and peace of God, and that is what I want to administer to him. So let’s rally around him with the full armour of God, ready to protect and defend. Now we know the truth, the truth has set us free. Let’s now declare that freedom and that victory over my son and over this process.

Are you still with me?