Yesterday marked the first day of National Adoption Awareness Month and exactly one year since we announced we're adopting.
We've identified the three boys that we're adopting. They're wonderful. We've seen their faces and heard their voices in videos. We've already chosen their new names. They've even been showing up in our dreams. Alison and I deeply long for them to be home. To be with us, their family. But here's the catch: they don't even know they're going to be adopted yet. That comes later in the process. And we have really, really been wanting to get to that point so that they can know they matter, they are wanted, and they are loved.
Sure, we've spent a tremendous amount of time and tackled a mountain of paperwork. But the only real obstacle has been money.
I Can't Do Enough
I've been really wrestling in prayer. I mean really wrestling. All aboard the struggle bus! Our adoption has put down deep roots in my brain and caused me to question some of my underlying assumptions about my own identity. Deep unconscious stuff has been bubbling up. I mean, I'm supposed to be the provider, right? The man with the plan? You know, bringing home the bacon? But this is so much bigger than anything I can do as the single income source for our family. Considering the timeline, there's no way I can provide enough for this. These two hands are not enough, and there aren't enough hours in the day.
As I have looked back at my life prior to the Lord calling us to adopt, I have literally cried tears of grief over the ways I'd spent my time and money. I have been so angry at myself about my former complacency and lack of concern. It has really dragged me down. Why had I been so stupid?
A Straight Furrow
Last night, I remembered a moment of time. I was a small child standing barefoot in the dirt of our family garden with my dad. He was plowing with his old Gravely tractor, and I remember how he used it as an opportunity to explain Luke 9:62 — “No one, having put his hand to the plow, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God.” My dad said, "When plowing, you have to fix your eyes on something in the distance." He pointed his hand. "See that fence post? That's what I'm looking at. I'm keeping my eyes on that one post. As long as I keep my eyes on that post, I can plow a straight furrow."
Knowing the goal that God has put in front of us, I have to fix my eyes on it. I can't look back. So I've been preaching Luke 9:62 to myself and moving forward with my eyes on the goal, trusting that God is the provider, trusting that He has the plan, trusting that He knows what we need and when we need it. Trusting that He has enough. Trusting that He is enough.
He is Enough
Because there are several funding sources to tally and we've been very busy, I typically update our adoption fundraising numbers only once a week. I hadn't been able to get to it until this morning. I ran the numbers. I rubbed my eyes. I ran the numbers at least three more times. We have enough to pay our third round of fees! Sure, there's still approximately $38,869.59 to go, but our dossier is now covered and now our fees are up to date!
I hollered out to the folks in my office, "We have enough!" I texted Alison. "We have enough!"
Those tears of grief I mentioned have been replaced by tears of joy. And I've been crying all morning.
Soon our three new sons will find out they are going to be a part of our family!
OK, enough, already. I really can't stop crying. Take it away, George Müller: