There are dreams, and then there are God sized dreams.
I am a realist so I tend to put a cap on my dreams, intentionally shielding off the disappointment of unmet expectation.
When we were told we could not have any more biological children, five years after the birth of our first child, I raced to embrace this “fact.”
Reality stings and I wanted to rip the band-aid off, look full on the wound, and start the healing process.
Accept it, move on, keep going. Face reality.
So when my husband opened my eyes to the possibility of adoption, I panicked.
Dreaming and reality fought hard to win my attention and I was incapable of moving forward. Decision time!!!
The reality of adoption for me was dollar signs. What would it cost and where would we get the money?
I was not worried about bonding with our adopted child. I knew that would happen.
I was not worried about adjustment issues or even health concerns. We could accept whatever happened.
I was worried about money.
Dollar signs kept me awake at night and hindered my ability to immediately follow what the Lord was leading us to do.
You know that first step of faith when you recognize what the Lord wants you to do, but you can’t see how it will possibly be accomplished?
Yet, you lift your leg, and step forward, unable to see the sidewalk under your feet.
And one day as I was polluting my mind with uneasy thoughts of committing to something we weren’t sure we could pay for, I spotted something shiny out of the corner of my eye. I remember leaning up against the front hood of my car and looking full on at my husband’s Harley. My husbands Harley, which he bought out of our savings from his hazardous duty pay while in Iraq.
And it struck me so deep I had to laugh. My husband and I had maybe two conversations about purchasing that motorcycle. My husband said he wanted it, and after I briefly thought about it, I said get it. That was the extent of that decision making process.
So why was I so quick to throw down money on a piece of machinery when the thought of spending the same amount on adoption sent me in to deep panic mode?
Without simplifying the decision to adopt based solely on money, let me just add that for me, myself and I, money is what held me back. My heart was in it. I already felt a tug on my heart the size of a mama bear hug to a child out there somewhere, waiting for me.
The glimpse of that motorcycle aligned my priorities with God’s priorities. That shiny Harley was a reminder of God’s abundant provision in our lives. Why would I think He would provide so abundantly for unnecessary material possessions but forget about the money we need to bring our daughter home?
And so we began that faith walk. One baby step forward. At times it was downright scary, and other times we felt the hand of God so completely providing for us, there was no denying it.
That Harley is long gone and our daughter is belly laughing in the other room. I could not imagine my life, our family, our hearts without her.
Our bank account is not bulging, but our hearts are.
Every day I wake up to a love so deep and strong for this little girl. I equate it to the feeling a child has on Christmas morning. Such pure excitement and joy at what lies under the Christmas tree. I feel this each morning as I wake to the sounds of three of the best gifts the Lord has ever blessed me with.
November is National Adoption Awareness Month. Some facts on orphans:
In the U.S. 400,540 children are living without permanent families in the foster care system. 115,000 of these children are eligible for adoption, but nearly 40% of these children will wait over three years in foster care before being adopted.
Source: AFCARS Report, No. 19
Around the world, there are an estimated 153 million orphans
who have lost one parent. There are 17,900,000 orphans who have lost both parents and are living in orphanages or on the streets and lack the care and attention required for healthy development. These children are at risk for disease, malnutrition, and victimization.
In what way is the Lord asking you do to some Faith Walking of your own?