Jacob’s gone camping with our next door neighbor. Cora ran herself to sleep practically chasing ducks at the park. I’ve had a quiet evening at home by myself, and I’ve been listening to this song some more. It has essentially been on repeat for the last few weeks.
Watch it with me?
It has become a bit of an anthem for me.
You see, we’ve decided it is almost time for our family to start the adoption process. I say almost because right now we’re in the pre-start phase that mostly involves some serious financial planning. We don’t want to go into debt, but (especially after spending 4 years volunteering in China) we don’t have 26-30K sitting in our bedroom closet in a bag marked “adoption.”
I’ll find a way to get you here if it takes my fleeting breath.
Yes. Yes. It is on my brain 24/7. We’ve reworked our budget 1,000 times so that we can save as much money as possible to start the process. (Our goal is to start sometime in the first of the year.) I’ve researched selling t-shirts and coffee and everything in between. We’ve decided to start a Scarlet Scraps Grant program through Scarlet Threads, and we’ll be the first recipient. (Full disclosure: I still feel very funny about that, but we’ve never taken a dime from Scarlet Threads, and I think it will make me work harder to grow the organization if I know that I’m working to bring my baby home.)
There is somebody searching for the way to get you here.
Will you pray for us?
For wisdom. Patience. For persistence and commitment to stick to our financial plan. We started it a few months ago, but we haven’t made as much progress as we hoped; it is pretty strict, and we kept making exceptions. (Which absolutely infuriates me@me… if it were Cora I were fighting for, you can bet there’d be no way in hell I would choose a few splurges at the grocery store over getting closer to my goal. Why I haven’t seemed to hold to this plan with the same fastidious commitment is beyond me.) Maybe you should pray for me to have some grace, too. Heh.
We could also use some prayer for peace and calming our fears. We know what we’re walking into. This isn’t some warm, fuzzy “we’re going to rescue a child and everything will be rainbows and butterflies” picture of adoption that we have. We know the work of redeeming a tragedy is hard and messy, and we already feel like our parenting wisdom is stretched to the max with our perfectly healthy, never abandoned, never traumatized busy little toddler. It’s scary.
But then I see this picture. (Laine, if you’re reading this, I know you’ll recognize your sweet girl.)
And this picture is a promise for me. My heart knows that there’s another little one who needs to wrap an arm around our sweet girl. And our sweet girl needs to wrap an arm around her brother or sister. We don’t know how we can do this. But we know we must. Our arms ache to wrap around a child with no home and whisper those words I say to Cora every night… I love you. You are precious to me. We need them just as much as they need us.
So we’ve got to find a way.