Are you sure? Really?

It's been interesting to note the many reactions we've received as we've been slowly letting the world know of our intent to adopt our daughter from Ethiopia. Some folks can barely mask their surprise. We've received many, "Why Ethiopia?" questions, a few "Why not adopt a kid here?", several smiling, shaking heads, and some folks who just have very little to say. We have also received smiles, hugs, offers to stay with our kids while we travel to Africa, and excitement over little girl things. 

I didn't really expect anything different. 

It's a lot to wrap a mind around. There are moments when I feel just as mixed in my own reactions. I think about how easy life is starting to feel. After 6 years of newborns, we're rounding the corner. We can leave kids with babysitters, I'm done nursing, most nights everyone sleeps. We're able to just enjoy our 4 children. 

And now, we're about to rock the boat again. 

I've questioned if I'm someone who just can't seem to enjoy life, who craves drama. I've wondered if this will be the biggest mistake of our life. And usually, as I'm entertaining these thoughts, I hear another voice saying, "Don't panic. You'll be sure again tomorrow." And thus far, every single time, the moments of anxiety pass, and once again I know that I know that I know that our daughter is waiting for us. And we have to go get her.

I think the difficult part is that we're not perfect. Isn't that ALWAYS the problem??? We're imperfect parents. We love our children, we enjoy them immensely... but we also identify with the desire to be "done" with having little children, to move on to the next stage. We aren't those people (if those people even exist) who are just incredible with their 12 kids, who seem to want their entire world to revolve around caring for their children's needs. We're impatient, we're selfish, we like to go out, and we really like to sleep. 

But there's a difference between what the flesh wants, and what brings peace. There's a huge difference between what our culture values and what beats in time with the heart of God. And there is something about realizing that for the first time in your adult life, you are about to do something, to enter a season in which His strength really will be your strength. Somehow, it makes this faith thing real. It carries with it an assurance that imperfection is the name of the game and we are not disqualified because of it.

It doesn't bother me, not really, when I sense disapproval from those we share our plans with. It doesn't hurt when I answer the same questions over and over. Because I feel the same way. I feel conflicted, I wonder why we're doing this. I fear for my boys, I worry for the stability of our family. I wonder about our friends, about our extended relationships. I fear judgment now, and later. 

But, we can't escape the truth that if we choose to ignore this pull on our hearts, we are telling a child no. We are saying that our convenience, our sleep and date nights, matter more. And frankly, that makes me sick. Because of course they don't. 

One of the greatest desires of our hearts is to see more people open their homes and families to children who need them desperately. If that means that we have to offer our imperfect selves, parenting, finances, and lives to be used as an example of exactly how creative and capable our God is, then so be it. It will be uncomfortable. It will be humiliating. It will be difficult.

But hopefully, it will mean children find homes.

And for us, it means that we will bring another precious child home who will drive us nuts, make us crazy, and force us to laugh so we don't cry. Just as we've done 4 times. 

We can't wait.