My last post found us in the middle of our home study. We were knee-deep wading through social worker visits and medical forms, financial records and inspections. (During which we realized we had never gotten a birth certificate for our sweet and sassy little Ella Grace. Ooops! Fret no more, that’s now been corrected. ha!) I shared how we were struggling through financial limitations, vehicle maintenance dilemmas and certain documentation issues. Just everyday life “stuff” compounded by requirements of the home study process.
Today, I am so deeply impressed by how we’ve witnessed the fingerprints of God in our midst this past month. (I can’t believe it’s been a month already! Where has the time gone?!) Here are just a few of the miracles seen:
- Rob’s car was able to be fixed and put back together – in our own garage – within a few hours and is back on the road! The cost FAR better than we’d anticipated.
- Our garage door was fixed in a matter of moments thanks to my jack-of-all-trades daddy!
- We received a $500 pledge as well as a tax return which allowed us to pay for the second half our home study!
- We passed our fire inspection on the first try – with high praise!
- We passed our safety audit!
- ALL paperwork on our end is FINISHED!
- Our cultural diversity class is scheduled!
- And, after the first test failed requiring the installation of a UV light filter, the newest and final piece to this crazy complex puzzle is: OUR WELL PASSED INSPECTION!!!!!!
If those don’t seem like miracles, it’s because you weren’t there when I dropped and contaminated the water sample in the parking lot of the health department and very nearly cried after all it’d taken to get it there. Or the one driving “The Beast” – as Luke has so fondly named our old, rusted-out hauling vehicle – back and forth to work while the newest car we owned sat on jack stands in the garage for months. Maybe it’s because the everyday normal stuff “we” seemingly work through has lost its wonder when the piece just suddenly falls into place. But when a five hundred dollar check, which you know was given in faith of both you and the Lord to bring home your baby, is handed to you… I, for one, am hard-pressed to miss the absolute triumph of a God who calls and equips.
I’m told there are still several weeks of writing on our home study before it is stamped with completion. However, we have already begun the final step before being matched: Our adoption profile book!
Initially when I thumbed through the different examples we were given to peruse, all assembled by families we knew nothing of but what they shared there, I found myself growing anxious. I realized, after much prayer, my issue with this process didn’t lie in the completion of it, but rather in the seemingly necessary marketing of it. I felt as if I had to put my family on display, shouting from each and every page “Pick us! Pick us!” The perfectionist in me wanted the entirety of it to draw attention to ourselves, our story and our longing for a child. The task was daunting and seemingly impossible.
I was wrestling, down to the very foundation of our calling, the complexities wrapped up in this form of adoption. Until one simple truth shouted louder than the web spun of insecurity. God knows our child. My mind had been fixed on the unnatural system that places a book of smiling faces into the trembling hands of expectant parents unsure what their next step should be. My heart broke over the hardship of confining the unique characteristics of our family to a few short pages in a way of insisting we were the ones they should choose. And yet, broken system or not, I firmly believe:
God called us here for such a time as this; for such a child as this.
No amount of fretting, no amount of time spent pouring over picture placement or specific words will change the calling we know and the child who will be ours. And so, we march on constructing a book to introduce ourselves to our child’s first parents. Trusting there is no need to wave our banner overhead, because the God of the Universe waves His. Believing in the hope of adoption knowing we ourselves were adopted into His family. Choosing to stand firm on the Rock who is higher; for the journey and for our child. So it is with confidence I say:
Regardless of the daily struggles and the fight to stand firm on this ledge which overlooks the great unknown, there is no other place I’d rather be. I honestly have no idea how the rest of this puzzle will be assembled. But I do know, God is in this thing.
And it is GOOD to be on His side.