Last week was crazy.
There has been a lot of buildup getting to the announcement of the adoption.
Lots of paperwork. Lots of emails.
Switching our application from China to Kyrgyzstan.
More paperwork. Signing our life away with no guarantees.
Lots of emails. Lots of questions.
Lots of money paid. Initial program fees.
An overwhelming amount of more paperwork covering my desk to get done.
Lots and lots of lists of things that need to be happening like yesterday.
Lots of googling for things like if I should apply for a passport renewal or a new passport (old one expired under maiden name), adoption grants, and tax deductible crowd-sourcing platforms.
Researching all the crowd-sourcing platforms to choose which one is best.
Telling close friends and family.
Making sure our kids don’t spill the beans before we tell close friends and family.
Buying binders, dividers and tabs to try to keep all the paperwork organized.
Fighting with my printer to make sure it’s fully functional to print out lots and lots of paperwork.
Making announcements and rounding up all the addresses that it seems I’m always missing.
Creating fundraisers and customizing the pages.
Timing the sending out of announcements to out of state and local friends and family and addressing and stamping.
The writing all the words about what we are doing, and how we are going to do it.
And after all the buildup and work of the initial process, now everyone knows, and it’s this real thing, that’s really happening, that we can really talk with people about.
And after all that work, there’s so much more to go.
And so I sit at my computer, typing the words because I would rather hide behind it than stare at the large amount of money that we need (and a payment due this week for $1800), and the pile of paperwork.
For the most part, I believe that God has got this and can totally do this thing, and I trust. But then there are these times…
Like when we were laying in bed the other night and I whispered to Chris that I have these moments where fear just overwhelms me and almost paralyzes me (because I believe that when we voice the fears they have less power over us), and he whispers back that he does too.
Sometimes I have fear.
$50,000 is a conservative estimate on how much this adoption will cost. Outside of several thousands of dollars in fees we have already paid, there is the little things you just slip into the budget, not even bothering to label them under the adoption expense. The office supplies, the many printer cartridges, the inevitable new printer we will need to buy, the little fees for an extra marriage certificate, required doctor visits, or 5 passport applications. At times it seems overwhelming and crushing. I voice the fears and hope they loose some of their traction.
Today feels hard. The excitement of the announcement has faded and now the real work needs to be done.
We are hopeful and prayerful that people like Aaron will come alongside us to hold up our arms when our strength fails to do this thing we were called to do, but if I’m honest sometimes I doubt they will come.
Sometimes I doubt.
Already I sense this process is building in me a sense of trust and faith that only a complete lack of control can.
As much I want to do all the things, at the end of the day, He has to do all the things.
I can create fundraisers and do marketing, but at the end of the day He has to stir hearts.
I can fill out paperwork quickly and efficiently, but at the end of the day, He has to open doors and create timing.
The confetti has settled on tables, the room is quiet and the kitchen is full of dishes and trash. The party has ended, seemingly before it even began and now the real work begins.
Those who have walked this road before talk of how much it stretches you, how hard it is (and yet good), and how it reveals the darkest places in your heart.
As much as it feels like we’ve barely caught our breath after one season of stretching and tumultuous waters, we plunge back under fighting for air again.
Who sees the dark forest and willingly enters?
Those with lots of faith in their guide.
Today feels hard and like it requires extra strength and faith that I’m lacking.
Lord, give me faith.