The clock on the wall read just before 10:00 when the notification rang I had an email. I’d been standing in front of the mirror curling my hair but when I saw the sender, I snatched my phone instead, spun and sank onto the bathtub surround. I opened the email as quickly as my phone would flip through screens and read the short message. Rob’s voicemail picked up when I called. He was in a meeting but promptly texted to ask if he should leave. I gave him the run down and said I just need to make sure he was still good with our yes. He wasted no time in responding, “Absolutely.” So I typed up a quick email and sent it. Then watched the clock.
I texted family and friends asking them to pray. I sat down with my kids and explained the situation the best I could on their level. We huddled together on the worn, chocolate brown recliner that sits in the corner of the living room by the front corner window and prayed together. Lucas led us this time and his prayer was simple, “Lord, help this mama to pick the right family for her baby girls – even if it isn’t us.”
It wasn’t long before my phone signaled another email. An email… Which meant the answer I’d been dreading. No.
I mentioned I was curling my hair. Do you want to know why? It’s because I was hoping by this time today I’d be headed to the hospital to pick up my daughters. Twin baby girls. Instead, I sit here on my back porch with the screen brightness turned up as far as it will go for the sunlight. The breeze is blowing a cool breath through the heat’s warmth on my left shoulder. Instead of the whirlwind of adventure, and stress of making all the pieces fit together, today seems from the outside peering in, a typical day in the life of a homeschooling mama.
But today isn’t. It’s a day my world almost added two precious tiny humans to it, but then…didn’t. I was almost the mother of four children, but instead my two are curled up on the couch watching a show.
See, that’s what’s going on on the outside. What’s going on beneath the surface is a roller coaster of emotional turmoil. But please hear me, I don’t say any of this to ask for pity. Not one iota. See, because under the surface of this disappointment is a heart clinging to her Savior. Under the mess of the ups and downs, twists and turns is a conscious that believes what the Word says is true: What I ask for, I receive when I believe.
I asked for God’s best for these precious baby girls. And while I want to be so upset at the fabric of my world being jerked to and fro on this journey, I just can’t. Today I had the privilege of being the hands and feet of Jesus as my yes released the work He had set forth to accomplish. This mama was prayed over, cared for and loved deeply because God used my yes to move in her stead.
My heart’s cry all along this journey has been for God to create in me the heart of a mother my children will need. Today, He answered that prayer as He walked me one painful step closer toward rejection and has taught me to stand in the face of it. Because down to it’s very core, this journey is not about me or my arms being filled. It’s about the Lord being glorified. And I simply cannot be angry when He answered exactly what I prayed for – even if it isn’t wrapped in the pretty pink bows I wanted.
One day I will tell my child about this day. I will curl up with them, hopefully on a new recliner set by the window, and tell them the mess of happy and sad tears that fell from my eyes. Happy I had the privilege of praying this mama through her decision and sad because I had to wait another day for their form to fill my arms. But see, here’s the thing, I’ll also get to tell them that every one of these days was worth it to hold them in my arms each day after.
If you’re considering adoption, I won’t tell you this road is easy. In fact, if you’ve read any of this blog or ask me in person, I’ll probably confirm your worries to say it isn’t. Nor is it for everyone. But I will tell you I consider it a divine privilege to sit here plucking away at these keys recording the story as the Lord writes it. Because, friends, it has all the makings of the best tale. And you’ve picked a good seat.
To Him be the glory. Forever and ever. Amen.