Some of this is probably redundant to a lot of what has already been written here or spoken about in the number of conversations that many of you have had with us. Our adoption story began a few years ago, shortly before Luca turned two. Madison and I had briefly discussed the prospect of adopting a few times in the past, but I never thought it was something that we would seriously pursue. But as our boys continued to grow, the idea that our family should be capped at five started, for the first time, to seem off. It was an odd feeling, as Mad and I had both agreed that we were done. Independent of one another, both of us felt the urge to start to look into adopting. As we spoke to each other, sought the counsel of others, watched those we consider role models go through the process, and relentlessly prayed for wisdom, we began to see that this was the direction that God was taking our family. It became so obvious to us that we needed to pursue this that it was somewhat embarrassing to realize that I should have been open to this idea and preparing for the process so much earlier. But as with most things, my wife had come to this realization much earlier than me and patiently (and silently) waited for me to come around.
Once committed, we threw ourselves into the process headlong. We flew through the required paperwork, background checks, meetings with social workers, and all the other minutia that comes with this undertaking. What we perceived to be God's plan for our family was mistakenly and unknowingly becoming attached to a timeline that we had created and decided to be best. While we were continuing to pursue this calling, it became increasingly easy to only focus on the end goal of taking a child out of a difficult situation and bringing him or her into our home. I found myself so fixated on the finish line that it was easy to miss the journey. As the weeks, months, and eventually years began to add up, we found ourselves still short of that finish line. And I didn't have much to show for the journey except for frustration that we were continually falling short.
As Madison and I tried to wrap our heads around why we hadn't been able to successfully complete what seemed like such a clear calling, we began to rethink our tactics. Was it something in our profile that needed to be changed? Should we sign up for additional services to expand the network in which our profile is seen? Do we need to make a new book? None of these seemed like they would address any root issue. So we reevaluated our approach, going back to the very beginning to try to really search and know what our actual calling was. Over the course of a few challenging weeks, it started to become clear that God wasn't specifically calling us to adopt.
God calls us to so much more. He asks us to follow him, with our arms open, ready and prepared to do whatever He has for us. This was a daunting, but relatively freeing realization. We don't have to worry about the end goal, the finish line. We can trust that God is sovereign and that His plan (and his timing) for our family is far better than anything we could concoct. As Mad and I spent a few days in Punta Cana last month, we really began to feel a peace about this. And as the urgency of trying to expand our family faded into peaceful hearts, the frustrations and hurt transitioned into a deep feeling of rest. As we sat by the pool and reflected on our last few years, Mad put the importance of that rest into perspective, saying "Our lives could change dramatically in an instant. We should be grateful and take advantage of this period of rest. This should be a time of preparation."
As always, she was right. Shortly after we came home from the DR, our social worker contacted us about a potential birth mother that was interested in our family. She had narrowed the field down to us and one other family. Our social worker informed us that she is due in early May and was hoping that we would answer a few more questions prior to her meeting us and ultimately making a final decision. We both tried to temper our excitement as we responded to her questions. One of the things that stood out was the birth mother's desire to have her baby's name begin with the letter "S". Months ago, Madison and I had agreed that if we were ever to have a girl, we would name her "Selah". This name is taken from the book of Psalms. It's probably a word you've seen a million times as you read through that book but probably passed over it (as I always did) as it was never actually in a verse but always tucked away in italics between stanzas. "Selah" means "to pause to gain wisdom".
That glorious irony is not lost on us. So much of our nature and personalities ache for instantaneous results and gratification. Madison and I always want that finish line. This was really the first time that we were really halted in our tracks, helpless to move forward. It was a necessary and demanded "pause". And we both readily admit that the "gaining wisdom" portion is still a work in progress, but it is clear to us that the Holy Spirit is working in us to continue that process.
Last night, as I groggily slumped downstairs to grab a few things from the kitchen before I went into work, I noticed a note from Mad tucked under my car keys. Expecting to read, "Have a good night (and can you grab me a coffee in the morning?)", I finished putting my gear together before I even read it. As I grabbed my keys and blinked my eyes, trying to rub away the sleep, the words jumped off the index card: "She's decided to move forward with us--and only us! And she loves the name!"
Boom.
As we know from experience, a lot can happen between now and the beginning of May. But as we joyfully move forward, our hearts of full of hope that we will be welcoming a new baby girl into our home in just a few short weeks. But as we have also learned from experience, that isn't all we are being called to. Our hope and prayer is that our eyes and arms are open to whatever it is we are being asked to do.
Thank you so much for standing with us through this journey. We'll keep you posted.