Disclaimer: I'm writing a tale of our journey to adopt our third daughter who is our fifth child. Yes, we're crazy. No, I haven't won the argument to get an Armored Personnel Carrier to carry all these people. And yes, I'm writing it from a dad's perspective. I hope it helps some dad out there who wonders what in the world God has put on his plate.
With our other two daughters (both adopted from China), I distinctly remember The Moment.
With our other two daughters (both adopted from China), I distinctly remember The Moment.
With Peanut, it was when we got an update picture and she was sitting there holding the pillow with our pictures that the Queen had sent over. I was undone. Over. Through. I literally stood up from the bed (where we were looking at the update) and walked to my computer. The Queen asked me what I was doing. I said I was buying plane tickets because I figured I could fly over there and just show up at the orphanage with my nose pressed against the glass until they handed her over. And no, I didn’t buy the tickets. But no, I wasn’t kidding in the moment.
With Minion, I knew from the moment I got a screenshot of my beloved playing with a little cutie. I was ready. I told The Queen to stay there and I’d do the paperwork. I just knew.
But in this process, I hadn’t had The Moment yet. I definitely felt like I had been obedient. I had prayed diligently and listened quietly. We had organized a compromise that put us in the process and readied us for more without committing us to something I wasn’t fully committed to yet.
But this was different. The only thing I was certain of was that my wife was more certain than me. The picture clarified a little more when we stepped out in obedience to get a home study done. But no certainty. Just struggle and a consistent plea for God to make things clearer than they were. I am a big enough boy to know that I am not owed The Moment. Faith-filled obedience is enhanced by something like that but it’s not a key ingredient.
The thing that I took from this stage was that my feelings and my obedience can be wondrously congruent. But sometimes they are not. I get to obey without feeling like it (and model the fact that I’m obeying for eyes and ears close enough to see) because that’s what God asks of me in every area of my life. I tell our people at church at least twice a year that feelings are great companions but terrible guides.
And now was the time for me to live that out.
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