Flashback to 2009. Living in Austin, Texas, my husband was attending a rigourous, full-time MBA program. With little income for the next 20 months, we rented an old house as close to campus as we could afford. Selling a car, we paired down, content to wrestle through the next two years of whatever adventures lay ahead.
Two precious little girls filled our home, and dreams of a third were fresh on our hearts. We knew we wanted to try for another biological child, and weeks later the test came back with joyful news. Excited, we began to prepare for her arrival.
About halfway through this pregnancy, I began researching adoption agencies. Though a weird thing to do while carrying a child in utero, I filled out an online inquiry form and hit SEND. I wanted information on international adoption. God had lit a tiny spark of interest earlier in our marriage, and I desired to get a window into the future possibilities. Though the time wasn’t right to start the process, I knew at some point God would give the green light.
Holding this paperwork helped keep that desire alive.
Fast-forward a few years and life looked much different than that day I first held the adoption packet. Grad school graduation had happened, a cross-country move had taken place, and that sweet little baby was now two years old. After prayer and contemplation, God gave that steady green light. It was go-time. Pulling out those dusty papers from long ago, I emailed the agency, and set off on the adventure of international adoption. It was August 2012.
Like many things in life, adoption is hard. The process, the emotions, the financial requirement, the transition home, the healing. All of it. Walking beside several close friends who have adopted, we have cried over doors being closed, rejoiced when new ones opened, lamented as timelines got extended, and watched families lose hope only to gain it back on the other side. It isn’t for the faint of heart or the easily discouraged.
As of today, our family has been in process over four and a half years. We’ve dreamed, we’ve prayed, we’ve sometimes been low on hope and weary. After this many years, bumps in the road have oftentimes obstructed our view of the finish line, not sure if our family would ever see the day a referral would grace our kitchen table.
Two months ago it looked like that was all about to change…
Through certain events that can’t be shared here, we were made aware of a little girl that needed a new home. On paper, we were a perfect match. Pouring over her file, we prayed for her, as if she were our own. Having videos and pictures gave us a face to put with this long-hoped-for anticipation. It brought hope in this journey, something we hadn’t experienced in a very long time. Bringing in our community, we needed their prayers. An urgency filled our bones. An assurance that we were meant to be part of her story. We truly thought she could be ours.
Last Friday the fateful email hit my inbox. This prayed-up, loved, and hoped-for girl was chosen for a different family. She was out of our life as quickly as she had entered (cue the tears.)
Y’all…Obedience hurts sometimes.
There are times where things just don’t make sense. We hear God’s promptings, take a step forward in obedience, then feel like the rug gets pulled out from underneath us. Doubting whether it was God’s voice after all, we wonder if we made this up in our heads. Did we pray the wrong prayers? Did we take misguided steps? We can’t make sense of what He asked us to do, and we aren’t sure what plans He has for us. For her. For our future separated.
So, I have to go back to what I know…
I know that His plans are for me, not against me (Jeremiah 29:11)
I know that He loves this little girl more than I ever could (Psalm 139:16)
God makes everything beautiful in its time (Ecclesiastes 3:11)
God’s ways are not mine, His thoughts not my own (Isaiah 55:8)
He will continue His good work in us until we see Him face to face (Philippians 1:6)
I know that His word (and voice) never returns void (Isaiah 55:11)
And I know that being obedient should be my goal, not getting my dream fulfilled.
Saying YES to God doesn’t mean that we will always get what we want. It doesn’t insure that our desire will be satiated. It certainly doesn’t guarantee a happy ending to every story.
Yet, my YES shouldn’t hinge on Him saying YES too.
Sometimes it is good that we don’t always know the outcomes of things. If we had known this little girl wouldn’t join our family, we would have not pursued her. Would we have avoided this loss? Sure. But I believe God is less concerned with us going through a trial, than He is with the sanctification of our hearts. His desire is to build His kingdom here – in our hearts, in our cities, on this earth. His goals aren’t ours. We don’t see through the same lens. His purposes are often beyond our comprehension. But, I can still choose joy, knowing we stepped out and lavishly, without abandon, said “yes” to what He was calling us to do. And that was to love and pray for this girl without boundaries for two solid months, helping bring her into the forever family God had chosen before the foundations of this world were made. We got to play a part in a story that will last for eternity. And that should be enough for me.
It is hard. The future of our story is unknown. But I am choosing to trust Him in my YES today, no matter what the outcome will be. And my prayer is that we will continue to step into obedience, unafraid of the outcome, but rather consumed with the process of surrender.
I know we aren’t along in this. I’d love to hear how God has called you to obey. When has it been hard? When it has felt easy? What has He taught you through it all?
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