Last November, after our trip to Israel but just before Thanksgiving, we were able to open our home to a couple traveling here from Alabama to await the birth of their daughter. They were wonderful people who, in the end, wrote us a card about how they would never be able to thank us enough for letting them stay with us. But, truly, the pleasure had been entirely ours. They'd brought that pink bundle to our home and we'd held her and snuggled her and fallen in love with adoption all over again. My oldest son was just crazy about that baby and, when their Christmas card came in the mail, he confiscated it off the kitchen counter, and, for several days, slept with it bent tightly in his hand. Eventually, it made its way to the bulletin board in the playroom. It still hangs there, displaying a picture of that darling family.
Garrett asked if we could adopt a sister.
A baby sister.
But while God's words to me still hung like a banner on my heart, we had never even considered the possibility of a baby. The list of reasons, a mile long. Filled with things like sleep deprivation and old age. Things that sound silly one at a time but, when added together, form a very important list.
Troy and I had been talking about various options to pursue. I felt a great deal of hesitancy because, on the one hand, I didn't want to force my agenda or my own timing but on the other hand, I knew that an orphan wasn't going to knock on my door and ask me to be her mother. Steps have to be taken. Home studies need to be completed. Attempting to live in the gray area of being ready but not orchestrating anything myself was a difficult tight rope to walk.
We landed on the idea of considering the adoption of an older, waiting child. A child who was legally free and needed parents that were going to love her for who she was, where she'd been, and what she'd seen. I started checking waiting child websites. Every few weeks I'd pop onto one of the sites and see if there were any kids who might fit into our family.
In January, I found two sisters...
I'm trying to be patient here, but blogger somehow let me see the beginning of your next post that I guess you took down? Or something? At any rate, I'm dying over here!! Please tell me this is a story in 3 parts and not 13!!! I'm pretty sure I'm excited for you. That's the right emotion, right? You're drawing out this story to tell us something really exciting, right?? I'll be blog-stalking you all weekend!
ReplyDelete