This weekend started just like any other. But as of 1pm today our lives have been changed forever.
About a year ago Jenn and I attended an adoption fair in downtown CLT. We sat in a seminar where a couple was sharing about their journey to adopt a baby boy from Las Vegas, NV. They spoke of the long, agonizing wait they had in LV before the paperwork cleared and they were allowed to return home. I thought to myself, 'agonizing'?? I leaned over to Jenn and said "Um, I think God is calling us to adopt from Las Vegas too!" :)
Friday night Jenn and I ditched the kids for a quiet dinner together followed by a surprise party for a friend. We hadn't been out in a while, and I wanted a goooood meal. So it was when she suggested fondue that I about threw-up in my mouth. Seriously? Months without a date night and you want melted cheese?? I'll go to my grave believing that my willingness to speak her love language and stomach fondue is the cause of what happened next.
As we sat and stared into the bowl of boiling broth, Jenn checked her Blackberry only to find an email about a new adoption case opportunity that matched our interests exactly (newborn: bi-racial + female). The catch was that this was a BOG or baby-on-ground: a premie born at 33 weeks in where else but Las Vegas, NV. I immediately asked for a bigger glass of wine.
After a late stop into the surprise party and 3 hours of email exchanges with our adoption consultant on the west coast, we had our paperwork submitted for consideration and were in bed by 2am. After the boys flag football game Saturday morning, our lunch had barely digested when we learned the NV agency was going to formally recommend us to the birthmom.
If being stuck in Vegas is 'agonizing' then the last 24 hours were inhumane torture. At church today I spoke to 1st-5th graders about how God created each of us for a unique purpose. All I wanted to know is if we would have a role in this specific baby girl's purpose. The minute I sat down at home after church I opened this laptop and our answer awaited.
Jackpot!
So we're headed to LV, and after a few days at grandpa Stewart's house the boys will join us. We'll update you once we're settled. Our little one is expected to be in the NICU for a min. of 2 more weeks, so our Thanksgiving buffet is sure to be at the local hotel/casino and all-you-can-eat. Good thing too, as we have A LOT to be thankful for.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Monday, November 8, 2010
Bonsai Trees
Doug here. Over the past month Jenn and I have each found ourselves (more than once) in that place of painful disorientation when trying to make difficult decisions for what happen to be very good causes. The dilemas are something like (a) make the rational choice, vs. (b) hand the large unknowns to God and act on faith (specifically when we don’t get an uber-clear answer to prayer). For me the pain is equivalent to being flogged with Clay Aiken playing overhead. I hate it. My perfect world is an open-book multiple choice test.
But then I say to myself ‘a monkey could do it that way’. And I’m right. So then I say to myself ‘boy I wish I had an ounce of discernment in me’. And I forget God made me with personality type ENFP for a reason. So then I start to say to myself ‘If God would just answer…’ but then I stop because, well, He hasn’t.
So then I arrive at that place of painful disorientation. A station in life that means I’m being worked on, pruned, enhanced – and God is Mr. Miyagi. All I want Him to do is finish up the work with the shears, douse me with water, and place me where I’m supposed to go. But no, I stay on that work bench for hours…days…and He does a little bit of work whenever He feels like it.
Something inside me needs to learn to like the table, and the shears. Last month the table for Jenn and I was adoption, and the shears were a specific opportunity presented to us in Oklahoma City. After a few weeks of good sunlight God picked us up, put us on the table, and started pruning A LOT of places we thought looked just fine to begin with. So the pile on the floor was not the outcome we expected, and our new look was unfamiliar in an uncomfortable way.
In the end, after getting no more familiar and no more comfortable, we had to make a decision. It may have been somewhat rational, and we didn't throw a ton of risk at God, but we decided to put our faith in Him that our princess is still out there somewhere else. So we wait...which for those of you who follow Jung know how painful that is for an ENFP.
But then I say to myself ‘a monkey could do it that way’. And I’m right. So then I say to myself ‘boy I wish I had an ounce of discernment in me’. And I forget God made me with personality type ENFP for a reason. So then I start to say to myself ‘If God would just answer…’ but then I stop because, well, He hasn’t.
So then I arrive at that place of painful disorientation. A station in life that means I’m being worked on, pruned, enhanced – and God is Mr. Miyagi. All I want Him to do is finish up the work with the shears, douse me with water, and place me where I’m supposed to go. But no, I stay on that work bench for hours…days…and He does a little bit of work whenever He feels like it.
Something inside me needs to learn to like the table, and the shears. Last month the table for Jenn and I was adoption, and the shears were a specific opportunity presented to us in Oklahoma City. After a few weeks of good sunlight God picked us up, put us on the table, and started pruning A LOT of places we thought looked just fine to begin with. So the pile on the floor was not the outcome we expected, and our new look was unfamiliar in an uncomfortable way.
In the end, after getting no more familiar and no more comfortable, we had to make a decision. It may have been somewhat rational, and we didn't throw a ton of risk at God, but we decided to put our faith in Him that our princess is still out there somewhere else. So we wait...which for those of you who follow Jung know how painful that is for an ENFP.
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