Still, We Will Praise Him . . .

Just a few hours after writing my last post, The Insecurity of Shame,  I received a call from the U.S. Embassy in Kinshasa.  I cannot believe the timing of that truth from the Lord:  without my knowledge, he was preparing my heart to face the thing I feared most. 

JP's birth mother had stated, in a written affidavit to the Embassy, that she did not relinquish her rights to JP and that she did not approve of the adoption. He was telling me that, while he cannot deny our petition to adopt, he is sending it on to the office above him as Not Clearly Approvable.  Without further evidence to negate his findings,  our adoption would fail.

Over the next day, I barely slept, questioning what had happened.  I could hire a private investigator, but would I really know that they got to the truth without any coercion or suggestion? I wanted to meet the birth mother; I wanted to know what would happen to Jean Paul; I wanted to get to the truth.  I had prayed and prayed to God for understanding, for peace, for wisdom on what to do next.  And, I got the answer in a phone call from our facilitator: Why don't you go? Why don't you go and ask the questions so that you can understand what happened, so that you can have peace of mind? 

And, so I spent last week traveling to and from the Democratic Republic of Congo.  And, in a surreal experience with the birth family that I hope to write about at a later date, I saw the difficulties and intricacies of international adoption like I had never seen before.

I was prepared for them to say one of two things:

• I lied to the Embassy.  I did relinquish my rights, but I was embarrassed to admit I just abandoned him.
• Everything I said to the Embassy was true.  I did not relinquish my rights, and I want to care for JP.

In a turn of events that left my mouth hitting the floor, the mother did not say either of these things.  The mother essentially said, "I allowed JP to go to an orphanage because I was sick, but I was not aware that he was going to be adopted.  However, I cannot care for him, and our family wants to give him over into your care."  In this moment, two things happened:  I realized that the assumptions I had made throughout these adoption proceedings were not entirely correct, enough so that I did not feel comfortable moving forward; and I learned that this family has a deep need, one as an American foreigner, I felt powerless to help. 

I went back to my hotel, withdrew my petition, changed my flight and left a day early.  (there are a few procedural things I am leaving out here for the sake of you, the readers, who could probably care less)

I do think there is responsibility here for the events that occurred, but I honestly do not know where that responsibility lies.  This post is not about passing blame anyway.  If I learned one thing, it is that international adoption is messy.  There are emotions and interests and cultural differences and procedural hurdles that get in the way of simply doing that which is the right thing to do.  This post is about revealing the Lord's work in our lives, regardless of circumstances.

In the end, it only comes down to us.  It is our family's job to do all we can to ensure that we act rightly and justly and compassionately in all things. 

Finding the right thing to do has not been easy.  On Saturday, as Philip and I drove to get our own children, I sobbed in the car, "Why? Why would God give me this knowledge? Why would I know JP's plight and feel powerless to help him?"  I asked the Embassy, "Please go and meet with her again. See what she says."  Part of me wanted him to say, in some heroic act that extinguished the problem, "You were right. Here is your visa", but part of me wanted him to say, "Your fears are unfounded. The family is fine and can care for him," so that I would be able to wash my hands of it all, so that I could move forward without this heavy weight.  But, that didn't happen, and for some reason, I must live with this burden.  I must live with this knowing.

And with knowledge comes responsibility.  We acted with fervor, we emptied our pocketbooks, we devoted time and resources to bring him home with us.  Why would we not do the same thing for his well-being, even if it means he stays in the Congo?  That is a question I have had to ask myself: Was I really loving my neighbor as myself, or was part of my devotion because the end result would bring our family joy?  Let that not be so.  Let our love overflow so that we fight fervently for the orphan and widow, even when we get absolutely nothing in return.

And, so our intent has changed.  Without many resources or contacts in-country, we still want to try to help JP's family either remain intact, or we want to get him into safe care--where he can receive a bed, food, and an education--hopefully with a family, in his home country and culture.  Over the last few days, I have learned that there is an avenue for us to start a new adoption of JP in the future, but we now want that to be a last resort, only after we have exhausted all possibilities there.

I have found comfort in several things over the last few days. I have a husband whose heart is moved by those who suffer, and we will be forever changed by actually loving someone who faces true poverty.  I have realized that God has surrounded me by a group of wonderful family and friends who comfort and encourage me and point me to Christ. That is a blessing that is to be cherished.  I have realized how beautiful this process has been--that there have been people praying for JP.  Before this adoption, no one may have prayed for this little boy before, and now his provision and safety and salvation have been pleaded before the Father of the World.  That is no small thing. 

And, for the first time in my life, I have faced the place where the Why? has no answer.  And, I have a choice: to shake my fist at the heavens, or to trust.  This has not come easy.  It has not come without tears and turmoil and despair and screaming and a feeling in my heart that I won't be able to breathe.  But, I can't deny my Father, even in my faithlessness.  I am His: I have only to praise Him.  I still have faith in His goodness. I still expect Him to reveal Himself mightily to JP.  And, in His mercy, I still hope He will allow me to see the culmination of His plan in this little boy's life.  







   

The Insecurity of Shame

I have been trying to read Jeremiah this summer. It has held some beautiful truths for my spirit.  I have read Jeremiah before, but I obviously missed the point.  I was much younger then and know I saw the world through a different lens than I do now.  I love that about the Bible; it speaks to us in all of our life experiences, and it "reads" differently to our soul as we journey.  It is not just a story, but a book that speaks to our hearts, a gift from our Savior.

So, yesterday, I started reading chapter 32.  It was titled Jeremiah Buys a Field During the Siege.  "Wow! That sounds interesting."  And, I didn't really mean that.  Jeremiah ranting about the sins of God's children, Israel:  Jeremiah giving amazing and scary images of God's wrath:  Jeremiah standing up to those who would oppose him and bear false witness.  Those were exciting chapters. But, Jeremiah buys a field?  I was pretty much preparing for a snoozer.

Then, I started reading (and I hope I get the history right).  God's warnings were coming true.  Jerusalem was about to be overtaken by Babylon.  Exile from Jerusalem for God's people was imminent. They were about to get what they deserved by continuing to ignore their Maker.  And, then Jeremiah hears a word from the Lord:  Go and buy a field.  That seems unreasonable.  A waste of money.  Why would you buy a field when the enemy was set to overtake you, when you may never see the fruit of this work?

And, the Bible does not ignore Jeremiah's reservations.  God sends a "sign" to Jeremiah:  one of his cousins shows up and tells him he is giving him the right to buy his field. He stands in front of witnesses and all of the Judeans and makes the purchase, at God's command, knowing that many of them likely question his sanity.  And, after he followed through with God's command,  he prayed to the Lord for clarity, saying "Nothing is too hard for you", but really God? This doesn't make sense to me (italics are my made-up symbol for a paraphrase).

The Lord's response is beautiful.  It starts by saying, "Behold, I am the Lord, the God of all flesh. Is anything too hard for me?"  He continues to recount Israel's disobedience and need for discipline.  But, then he changes.  He promises that once the time of exile is over, he will restore them.  God says, "I will bring them back to this place, and I will make them dwell in safety.  And they shall by my people, and I will be their God."  And, his beautiful promises continue through several more chapters.  A story of love and relationship that comes from seeing God sustain.


I don't want to intimate in any way that we are like Jeremiah.  He is a prophet, prepared for a special time in the making of God's beautiful story of wrath and redemption, that culminates at the coming of Christ.  But, this season has made me understand a bit more clearly how Jeremiah must have felt buying a field that seemingly had no value.

There is a great deal of discussion about ethics in adoption in the DRC.  Our case, along with other cases, is tied up in lengthy investigations that often raise more question marks than answers.  We have showers, make flights, pack suitcases--only to be stalled for months.  And, we (meaning, I) have chosen to go through this process publicly, because I honestly make sense of things by writing and because I like to be social. And, because somewhere amidst all of those selfish emotions, I hope God get the glory in our story. (my husband honestly just suffers through this public display because he loves me)

This chapter illuminated for me one emotion I have not fully tapped: that of doing something, seemingly foolish, in front of a group of witnesses, who honestly are the people I care most about.  When we have been disappointed, and surprised, and overwhelmed, I feel the weight of that.  But, I have also noticed another emotion creeping up that colors my perspective more than I would like: shame.  What if we go through this whole thing and end up looking stupid, duped, naive?

Shame is not from God, though.  Shame is a lack of trust in God.  At the beginning of this journey, a friend who has gone through adoption told me that God will be working behind the scenes in ways I could never understand until I see them play out. I am starting to see small glimpses of that, where what I first expected to be the case is not the case at all. Where the Lord planted a desire in my heart, and it is coming to fruition, but never how I had once imagined. Where first I had to step out in what seemed like ignorant and blind obedience to see Him.  Where there is lots of pain before the promise.

In the Lord's beautiful response to Jeremiah, he says, "I will give them one heart and one way, that they may fear me forever, for their own good and the good of their children after them.  I will make with them an everlasting covenant, that I will not turn away from doing good to them.  And I will put the fear of me in their hearts, that they may not turn from me.  I will rejoice in doing them good., and I will plant them in this land in faithfulness, with all my heart and all my soul."

Oh, the promises of God for those who love Him, for those who suffer His discipline in restoration, for those who step out in obedience, even at the cost of appearing a fool. I cling to them. They're really all I've got. Shame cannot stand if we truly believe in God's promises.  So, where I do not believe them, I confess my weakness, and I ask the Lord to plant me in the land of His faithfulness.

Manna . . .

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. James 1: 2-4

A friend shared that verse with me today; in the midst of her own desert time, she encouraged me.  Another friend, who is in her own period of waiting, has sent notes and messages of things that have lifted her up in this season.  And a friend who just passed through a deep valley of her own lifted my spirits with the same comfort that helped her through her own difficult time.  

For the past five years, I have had the opportunity to sit under the teaching of another friend who believes in the incredible role of suffering, who even prays for it.  She sent me a text on New Years' Day this year, praying for my suffering.  My first reaction was a sarcastic, "Happy New Year's to you, too," but really I am grateful.  I am grateful to have a community who teaches me that suffering is a normal--and sanctifying--part of a life in Christ.  It has prepared me in this time--while we deal with frustration and disappointment--to see difficult times from a perspective of hope, not despair.     

The value of suffering runs throughout the New Testament.   

• Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. 2 Corinthians 1:3-5
• The Spirit himself bears witness that we are heirs--heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him. For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. Romans 8:17  
• More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. Romans 5: 3-5
• Since therefore Christ suffered in the flesh, arm yourselves with the same way of thinking, for whoever has suffered in the flesh has ceased from sin, so as to live for the rest of the time in the flesh no longer for human passions but for the will of God. 1 Peter 4:1-2

I am especially encouraged by the verses that discuss the value of Christ's suffering, as He clearly did not need it for His own "personal growth" but suffered for a greater good, the restoration of all things and as an example for us when we face trials.

• For because he himself has suffered when tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted. Hebrews 2:18
• So Jesus also suffered outside the gate in order to sanctify the people through his own blood. Therefore, let us go to him outside the cam and bear the reproach he endured.  For here we have no lasting city, but we seek the city that is to come.  Hebrews 13:12-14

And, then, we see a beautiful picture of God's provision when our suffering is in the midst of His will. While the Israelites wandered in the wilderness to the Promised Land, He provided manna daily, double on the sixth day, so that His people could rest on the seventh.  In Exodus, according to the Lord's instruction, the people put a piece of manna on display to remember His goodness.  They were elated at His provision, as they clearly saw Him care for a large group of people, daily, for years.  Yet, one book of the Bible later, they are begging for meat.  Over time, the Lord's provision had become boring, insufficient and unable to bring them the comfort they desire.    

One reason I believe the Bible is that the followers of God often come across as idiots (and I can be a similar idiot in my faith).  I would think that a self-serving faith would make its followers always obedient, always worshipful of their god.  Why? Because worship and obedience in His provision give Him glory.  My faith in His manna should not make me look good, but should make Him sufficient in all things.  

One of the friends I mentioned above sent this to me this morning.  It is a portion of today's devotional by John Piper--

We do not earn or merit anything by taking refuge in God. Hiding in something makes no contribution to the hiding place. All it does is show that we regard ourselves as helpless and the hiding place as a place of rescue.

The condition we must meet to have this grace is not a meritorious one; it is the condition of desperation and acknowledged weakness and need.

Destitution does not demand or deserve; it pleads for mercy and looks for grace.

I desire to bring unabashed glory to the character and nature of God.  I desire to see His manna--whether through a physical answer to prayer, through the encouragement of a friend, or through the encouragement I find in His Word--as good and perfect.  I desire not to demand or think of which I am entitled, but to trust that what He has provided is enough for my present circumstance.  I desire to be desperate--not for the things the world promises--but for the things He promises to those who believe Him.  I desire to put the "manna" He has provided me on display to show His goodness and not to later tire of it for something better. 

But, it is not in my nature to do that.  My nature wants its own good; it wants comfort; it wants immediate gratification.  So, I am thankful for the Spirit, for the community of saints, and for Christ's example that allow me to move beyond that which is natural, and into that which is eternal and holy and full of promise.   

Post #41

When I posted the last blog, I was intrigued to see that it was Post #40.  That should have been the last post before we got our little guy.  And, like the Israelites who roamed in the desert for 40 years, we could see our  arrival in the "Promised Land".  Our time in the desert was over, the Lord's work on us was over, and we were awaiting the chance to enjoy the culmination of the Lord's work in our lives.  

Ah, but what did the Israelites do constantly in and after the desert? They GRUMBLED.  "I'm sick of manna."  "Let's turn our attention and affinity toward other gods."  "The people we are supposed to overcome look really huge and strong; let's try to outsmart them."

And, just yesterday, one day after the 40th post when we should have been fully chiseled to the likeness of Christ (please read in my sarcasm), I found myself GRUMBLING.  The visa from the U.S. Embassy that we fully expected to be finished on June 11 or 12 has still not been issued.  Our attorney is extremely careful; my husband is extremely careful.  And, we all felt confident buying tickets last week.  Then, on Friday afternoon, when we still had not heard any news on the visa despite our efforts to make contact, we found ourselves on the phone with United trying to figure out how we can cancel those tickets if we don't have the visa by Wednesday.  We were mad; we were discussing how illogical this whole thing is; we were tossing blame and trying to understand how the "done deal" could be unraveling yet again.  

Today, though, something in me has changed.  While I still don't get the "reason" behind others' inability to accomplish tasks in a manner I think is timely, grumbling is disobedient.  The Lord is clear.  We are not supposed to complain and grumble, even when it seems we are walking aimlessly. This shows a lack of faith in His sovereignty and care and concern for our lives.  This shows that we don't believe who He is or who we are in Him.  

How can we be in the desert, though, and not complain?  According to the Bible, there is only one way we can accomplish that kind of outlook: by remembering His wondrous deeds and using the way He has sustained us in the past to allow us to continue to trust Him in the not-yet now.  

So, here is the testimony of our Lord and Savior over the past year (throughout this frustrating process).  While I know this list is mostly to help us remember His goodness, I hope that one or two things remind you of ways the Father has cared for you in the past: 

• He has given us a new member of our family, regardless of when we get to bring him home
• He has allowed me to fulfill a dream of adoption that He started in my heart when I was 18 years old
• He has changed my husband's heart to fully desire the same thing (after praying for many years that He would give us the same vision)
• He has strengthened our marriage
• He has allowed me to travel to Africa and gain a new perspective on the world
• He has allowed me to meet people there that have taught me sometimes those who are physically poor are spiritually rich
• He has taught me that those in poverty do not deserve my pity, but require my compassion
• He has made me more content with what I have and more willing to live with less
• He has helped me to overcome fears that, in the past, have stopped me from stepping out and doing His will
• He has allowed me tangible expressions of His saving grace that I will savor for the rest of my life
• He has taught me so many things about the futility and destructive nature of anger, something with which I have struggled in the past
• He has made me passionate about this nation that we live in.  While a free nation will always have conflicting opinions from its people, we have a voice.  The rights and protections that we are afforded are incredible to me, and I will be forever grateful for them 
• He has made me rely on Him, as this is the first time I have faced something that was completely out of my control and for which I had no answers or power
• He has allowed me to network with many other families, who share my same heart
• He has given me hope for using my law degree in the way I could only dream I would be able to use it, by helping families adopt
• He has allowed me to meet a man and several women who sacrifice all of their free time and more energy than they have for orphans
• He has humbled me, by making our family dependent on the prayers of the saints
• As a result, he has increased my prayer life for others
• He has revealed His character to me in countless ways, and he has shown me His love and concern for our family and for the anonymous little boy, lost in a sea of chaos
• He has allowed us to give to others, through the bed drive, the bracelet drive and the Bible drive
• He has wowed us with His provision for our family, with unsolicited donations that come right when we can't give anymore
• He has shown us how tightly we hold on to our money 
• He has forced us to give as far as we thought we could give and then to give a little more, and that has taught us to give, for He will provide
• He has taught my children so much about love and acceptance and concern for their fellow human being
• He has allowed me to rekindle the joy I have in writing
• He has been with me in our triumphs and sustained me in the struggle

We may have less money in our bank account.  We may have had less down-time while doing endless paperwork.  We (meaning I) may have even gained ten pounds from the stress.  But, one thing is certain:  even when we didn't expect it, we got more of God.  

We pray fervently, we beg and plead with Him to allow this season of waiting to be over, but WE CAN"T GRUMBLE, not in light of His goodness and mercy. Who am I that He is mindful of me?  His child, and that is enough. 

In praise of my Heavenly Father and my Savior and Friend, Jesus, I will end with one of my (and my daddy's) favorite hymns, which we sang tonight at church:

Then sings my soul,

My Savior God to thee,

How great thou art! How great thou art!  

Reality . . .

So the time has finally come.  We are packing our bags and getting set to end the Journey to JP and begin the Journey with JP.

And, we must not be mistaken that it will be a journey.

If you could imagine an x-ray that looked inside the emotions of our family, you would see relief and excitement and joy.  The best word I can think of to describe how we feel: anticipation. We are ready to introduce him to his new home and his cozy new bed.  We are ready to watch him bake in our kitchen and learn funny English words that make him giggle and join our family dance parties.  We are ready to watch him grow and learn and flourish in our home.  We are ready to be forever changed by his presence, and then one day, to not even remember a time when he was not here.

But, if there were an x-ray that looked inside the emotions of JP, I think the best word to describe how he feels would be apprehension.  Sure, he might think we are kind and smiley and interesting.  But, those observations are not enough when he needs to trust us as his parents. In a week from Saturday, we feel that we will be giving him the hope of a family; but, to him, we will be taking him from all he has known.

And, while I would like to think he will not feel fear, I am certain he will feel apprehension.  Will they be kind to me? Will I get hurt in this bathtub, this car, this plane? Why are they so different than me and everyone I have ever seen? Will I ever understand what they are saying? There will be some comforts of home that we will never be able to replicate.  And, there will be a piece of his heritage, perhaps even himself, lost that day.

Of course, we plan to spend months, if not years, refilling that which was lost with beautiful memories and unconditional love, so that the Bell Family and America become his home. But, adoption always comes after trauma, and Philip and I can't be naive in thinking that he will see this transition as amazing as we do.  Not now, anyway.

So, this is our new reality.  Teaching a little one--who has had few trustworthy people in his life--the important lesson that we can be trusted. That we aren't going anywhere.  If he is scared, we will be there.  If he tests us or rebels against us, we will forgive him.  If we struggle emotionally or financially, we do so as a family.

If you have felt led to pray for our family, please pray specifically for JP's heart.  That the Lord would give him peace in this transition and that the Lord would give us wisdom to minister to him in ways we cannot even imagine.  Without the ability to communicate orally, much of what we say in our earliest times together will be in our actions, our facial expressions, and the unspoken emotions we convey.  We ask Him to guard those communications to foster trust and love, not apprehension.

Thank you all for walking alongside us, for encouraging us as we wait, and for going to the Father on our behalf.  We are grateful, and we know the Lord will sustain.

If Our Adoption Fails, Does God Fail?

While we wait to hear news of the Embassy investigation, and with the possibility of a failed adoption looming before us, this is an honest question that I have asked.  And, I haven't asked it for us.  If the adoption fails for the Bell family, we will be really sad and really disappointed (my kids maybe even more than I will never know).  But, we will recover.  What keeps me up at night is this question: If the adoption fails for JP, how could that be a win?  I really wrestle with that question, in light of the poverty and lack of education and absence of a family he would face. 

First, I know in my heart and mind that two things are true:

1.  God is good, in ALL things.  I know that; I believe that; but, I can't always wrap my brain around that.

2.  I don't have a right to question the Creator and Sustainer of the world.   I, as mere clay, don't really get to shake my finger at the Potter and say, "You aren't fair!"

But, I do.  And countless believers have done the same in light of what they see as failures by God.  Is that sinful? Certainly. Is that beyond the grip of God's grace, steadfast love and understanding?  No way.

So, I was at dinner with a dear, sweet friend two weeks ago.  She is in her own journey in the adoption story, and she is just a great listener and supporter.  When talking about the chance that this whole thing could fail, I told her, "You know, I am going to be honest.  I am going to really struggle with the fact that this is good.  I mean, what is good about a kid being left in poverty, without hope?" She smiled.  She reminded me that God works in all circumstances. She knew she wouldn't convince me that day. She has seen God convince me of many things over time.

What it took me two weeks to realize is that she also knows God well enough in the midst of what we define as "failure" to know how faithful He will be. She has suffered some of the greatest "failures" we can imagine.  An elementary student, she was the oldest of three children who lost their mother to breast cancer.  She cried out to God, she prayed, and at the time, it appeared He failed.    Later, after only one year of marriage, she suffered a horrible virus that attacked her heart and nearly killed her.  One year later, she learned that--while her healing was miraculous--her heart would never be strong enough for her to have children of her own.  Another deeply painful failure that could have tested her marriage and her faith.

That has resonated this week.  Not because God fixed everything, but because he used what was "broken".  What a beautiful--and thoughtful--and successful servant she has become.  She is a happily married wife of 10 years.  She is a great mother to a beautiful boy she and her husband adopted two years ago.  She helps women at a pregnancy resource center who feel they are in the midst of a huge "failure".  And, she is a really good friend. 

If the adoption fails, not only will it create an ache for JP's well-being that I am not sure will go away, it will create a noticeable void in in the third-row of the van we bought for his arrival and in the top bunk of the bed waiting for him. Not to mention our hearts.  It will force us to think deeply about how we care for and love a little boy a continent away.  It will force us to reevaluate what is "good" in the world and what are we doing to help all of the children suffering without hope. 

It won't be an easy fix, but failure never is. Those who have lost marriages, sons and daughters, dreams of having children or growing old with their spouse, feel the ramifications for a really long time (some would say it never fully goes away). 

People aren't easy fixes either. And whether we love him up close or from afar, JP will need healing from the "failure" that currently surrounds him: a failed system that creates failed families.  Really, our world is full of things that are not as they should be.

So, I have to rest in that.  And I have to look to the people I know who have suffered great loss--who know the Lord--and the good that has come out of that. And, I have to be okay with being out of control.  With loving someone I may not be able to help.  With trusting God even when something totally stinks.  I have to believe His promise applies to me, "The Lord works out all things for the good of those who love Him."

And, I have to pray heartily for JP's soul, as only God saves.

To What Then Have We Been Called . . .

So, if you look at the timing of our adoption, it would seem to be we got the short end of the stick.  Based on years of past practice, our little guy should have been home by Spring Break.  We have friends through adoption that were about three weeks ahead of us in the fall; they have had their kiddos home for 4 months.  We were literally requesting our Embassy appointment when the announcement came down--this is going to take longer.

Through the last three months, we have learned what longer means. 

It means the Embassy is doing everything it can to ensure, when we walk our little guy out of that orphanage to bring him home, he is truly an orphan.  And that is important. 

It also means other mishaps can happen in the wait.  In a place like the DRC, restructuring is common. Illness and strife are common. For the Congolese, waiting is a way of life.  They take it with beauty and stride.  But, for an American working in the Congo, it brings stress and uncertainty to which we are not accustomed. 

Finally, it means this whole thing could fail.  As we wait, as the Embassy investigates, we may hear that we can't bring JP home.  Lots of factors--health, national stability, family dynamics--could come into play that affect our ability to adopt, issues I never would have thought would happen to us last September when we first saw his picture.

There has been a great deal of discussion about adoption ethics over the past few months.  As I go through the emotions of the uncertainty in the midst of this discussion, I must constantly check my heart.  Despite all of the chatter, the thing that touched me the most was a comment to a recent blog post that said, "Maybe you weren't called to the adoption destination but to the adoption journey."

At this point, we desperately want to the destination to arrive.  But, I cannot express what we have learned in the past year.  And, I don't want to miss what the adoption journey--frustration, excitement, and possibly even grief--has taught me about myself, my marriage, and my God. Not to mention the gift I have been given to see Africa in a real and heartbreaking and awe-inspiring way.

He does not call us to use our wisdom, might or money to make all things new.  He does that.  He just calls us to be obedient in the moment and to meet Him in the Journey. 

"Thus says the Lord, 'Let not the wise man boast in his wisdom, let not the mighty man boast in his might, let not the rich man boast in his riches, but let him who boasts boast in this, that he understands and knows me, that I am the Lord who practices steadfast love, justice and righteousness in the earth. For in these things I delight, declares the Lord."  Jeremiah 9:23-24

Blessings to each of you as you travel . . . may you find His steadfast love in the journey.