God's gifts from Uganda
Beginning about a year ago, Scott and I realized that we needed to pray about adopting again. The idea percolated when we asked Adrianna what she wanted for her birthday, and Adrianna said, "For you to adopt a new brother or sister for me?" Scott and I just kind of looked at each other and smiled. When we were alone later, we started toying with the thought. Did we want to adopt again? Were we called to adopt again?
The idea started following me around. And then I had a beautiful morning with God one Sunday, when Scott took the kids to church early, and I got to sit quietly with God and a cup of tea at our dining room table. I did my Bible reading and prayer journaling, and asked God for His direction about our possible adoption. I could not shake the feeling that I needed to read the Psalms before I finished my time with Him. There I was, journaling, "God, do you want us to adopt again? Is this idea even from You?" And then I opened to my bookmark in the Psalms, and it was there, shouting at me from His Word: Psalm 68. The adoption Psalm. I have a history with this Psalm... (see The Adoption Psalm) God used it to lift me up in so many ways as we waited for Abel's adoption. And now, here it was, staring at me again, as I prayed about whether we were supposed to adopt again. And what I heard clearly from reading it again: God's answer. My heart will always be for adoption.
And then I waited. I prayed that Scott would hear God's answer in his own way. I told him that I talked with God about it, but that I didn't want to tell him what I thought until he felt like he had heard from God, too. By the end of October, Scott was heading to an adoption conference, to learn how to start an adoption ministry at our church. I prayed that God would speak to him through that conference, however He wanted. I waited eagerly, as Scott returned home, and told me about the exciting things he learned. And I asked him if it influenced his ideas about adopting again. His answer was that it gave him a passion for empowering others to adopt -- for the big picture about adoption. As the days and weeks started folding away, he started talking about us adopting with more determination. And I discovered that for him, the idea started blossoming and unfolding, rather than hitting him in the face -- like my realization had.
We waited. We prayed, knowing that we were called to adopt again, but not knowing how or when. By Thanksgiving, we contacted our social worker about the Uganda program we heard her agency was working with. She left us know that the children available were three years and older. We decided that we probably wanted a child younger than Abel, and he wasn't turning three until March, so we kept the idea in our hearts.
As we waited, the fear began assailing me. I would be cooking in the kitchen, or dealing with Abel's tantrum, or driving Adrianna to school, and the fears would creep in. You're having trouble keeping up with two kids, how are you going to care for three? You're losing your temper with two kids, what about another? The first few weeks, I just let those fears attack me... until I realized they were not helping me prepare for adoption. Those fears were lies attempting to keep me from following God's will for our family. And they almost worked. They almost had me so discouraged that I was about to tell Scott I did not think we could go forward with it.
I was reminded of the verses I had to claim before about fear. 1 John 4:18 "There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear." 2 Timothy 1:7 "For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind." The fears lurked, but I came at them with the ammunition of God's Word. If God wanted us to adopt again, He would equip us to do so in His might.
With my fears addressed, Scott and I still wondered what we were supposed to do next. By July, we began researching adoption agencies. I even drafted another email to our social worker, asking if we could get started in the Uganda program. As I finished it, I felt the conviction that I was not supposed to send it; I left it in my draft box. So we researched other programs. Two did not even respond to our online request for information. The one that did said that our family was not a good fit for the programs of theirs that we were looking into.
August 1. While working on the computer, I found an email in my inbox from our social worker, with the title "Waiting Children." With a few hopes dancing around inside my heart, I scrolled through the list of children. A seven year old... a nine year old... I couldn't even consider them because our agency does not want us to adopt out of birth order. And then I came to the final child. A two year old. A two year old boy! From Uganda... when this program didn't normally even have a child younger than three.
In the back of my head these months of praying about where and how to adopt, I kept wishing and hoping that our social worker would just let us know about a child who wanted us. And then we get this email -- the first like this we've ever received from her.
As fast as my fingers would allow me, I responded to our social worker, asking if she thought this boy would be a good fit for our family. And in the next breath, I forwarded the email to Scott at work... no comments, no additions. Within a few minutes, our social worker wrote back asking how old Abel was, to see if the birth order would be an issue. I let her know that he was over three.
As I dropped my kids off at my in-laws', and headed to helped the teacher that I am long-term subbing for this fall, I saw that both Scott and the social worker responded. Scott's email asked about this boy -- even without my prompting, he wanted to know more about him. And our social worker's response was, "If Abel's already three, then yes, I think he'd be a great fit for your family!"
Scott and I were blessed to spend that weekend celebrating our anniversary in Phoenix, where we had quiet times praying and sweet times talking. Was God calling us to adopt this boy? As we drove home, my dad called, asking if we had made any decisions. I asked him what his opinion was on the matter, and he said that he felt like it was too early to adopt again, and that we should give Abel more time. I mulled those thoughts around, suddenly so disappointed. When we arrived home, I had a chance to call a dear friend, to see what she thought on the matter. As we talked, I brought up the issue about Abel. I told her how I had recently seen him playing with a two-year-old boy, and how much fun he had with him. We ended the conversation feeling like this adoption could really be a blessing for Abel, rather than a hindrance to his progress.
By the next day, Scott and I felt God's peace as we contacted our social worker again. We let her know that we wanted to be considered for this boy's family... And here we progress. Our home study starts next week, culminating the last three weeks we've been flying about in the paper chase.
The fears have not quit, but neither has God's mercy. If He wants us to bring this dear boy home to us, then we know He will. We are nervous about the process, but filled with joy at the thought of adding another African boy to our clan.
I want to end with acknowledging the injustice of the time frame. We have sweet friends who have been waiting for months to be matched with their children. And here we are, suddenly matched with a child before we've officially applied. For those sweet friends, please know how sorry I am for the injustice. We pray for you while you wait to be united with your dear ones.
The idea started following me around. And then I had a beautiful morning with God one Sunday, when Scott took the kids to church early, and I got to sit quietly with God and a cup of tea at our dining room table. I did my Bible reading and prayer journaling, and asked God for His direction about our possible adoption. I could not shake the feeling that I needed to read the Psalms before I finished my time with Him. There I was, journaling, "God, do you want us to adopt again? Is this idea even from You?" And then I opened to my bookmark in the Psalms, and it was there, shouting at me from His Word: Psalm 68. The adoption Psalm. I have a history with this Psalm... (see The Adoption Psalm) God used it to lift me up in so many ways as we waited for Abel's adoption. And now, here it was, staring at me again, as I prayed about whether we were supposed to adopt again. And what I heard clearly from reading it again: God's answer. My heart will always be for adoption.
And then I waited. I prayed that Scott would hear God's answer in his own way. I told him that I talked with God about it, but that I didn't want to tell him what I thought until he felt like he had heard from God, too. By the end of October, Scott was heading to an adoption conference, to learn how to start an adoption ministry at our church. I prayed that God would speak to him through that conference, however He wanted. I waited eagerly, as Scott returned home, and told me about the exciting things he learned. And I asked him if it influenced his ideas about adopting again. His answer was that it gave him a passion for empowering others to adopt -- for the big picture about adoption. As the days and weeks started folding away, he started talking about us adopting with more determination. And I discovered that for him, the idea started blossoming and unfolding, rather than hitting him in the face -- like my realization had.
We waited. We prayed, knowing that we were called to adopt again, but not knowing how or when. By Thanksgiving, we contacted our social worker about the Uganda program we heard her agency was working with. She left us know that the children available were three years and older. We decided that we probably wanted a child younger than Abel, and he wasn't turning three until March, so we kept the idea in our hearts.
As we waited, the fear began assailing me. I would be cooking in the kitchen, or dealing with Abel's tantrum, or driving Adrianna to school, and the fears would creep in. You're having trouble keeping up with two kids, how are you going to care for three? You're losing your temper with two kids, what about another? The first few weeks, I just let those fears attack me... until I realized they were not helping me prepare for adoption. Those fears were lies attempting to keep me from following God's will for our family. And they almost worked. They almost had me so discouraged that I was about to tell Scott I did not think we could go forward with it.
I was reminded of the verses I had to claim before about fear. 1 John 4:18 "There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear." 2 Timothy 1:7 "For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind." The fears lurked, but I came at them with the ammunition of God's Word. If God wanted us to adopt again, He would equip us to do so in His might.
With my fears addressed, Scott and I still wondered what we were supposed to do next. By July, we began researching adoption agencies. I even drafted another email to our social worker, asking if we could get started in the Uganda program. As I finished it, I felt the conviction that I was not supposed to send it; I left it in my draft box. So we researched other programs. Two did not even respond to our online request for information. The one that did said that our family was not a good fit for the programs of theirs that we were looking into.
August 1. While working on the computer, I found an email in my inbox from our social worker, with the title "Waiting Children." With a few hopes dancing around inside my heart, I scrolled through the list of children. A seven year old... a nine year old... I couldn't even consider them because our agency does not want us to adopt out of birth order. And then I came to the final child. A two year old. A two year old boy! From Uganda... when this program didn't normally even have a child younger than three.
In the back of my head these months of praying about where and how to adopt, I kept wishing and hoping that our social worker would just let us know about a child who wanted us. And then we get this email -- the first like this we've ever received from her.
As fast as my fingers would allow me, I responded to our social worker, asking if she thought this boy would be a good fit for our family. And in the next breath, I forwarded the email to Scott at work... no comments, no additions. Within a few minutes, our social worker wrote back asking how old Abel was, to see if the birth order would be an issue. I let her know that he was over three.
As I dropped my kids off at my in-laws', and headed to helped the teacher that I am long-term subbing for this fall, I saw that both Scott and the social worker responded. Scott's email asked about this boy -- even without my prompting, he wanted to know more about him. And our social worker's response was, "If Abel's already three, then yes, I think he'd be a great fit for your family!"
Scott and I were blessed to spend that weekend celebrating our anniversary in Phoenix, where we had quiet times praying and sweet times talking. Was God calling us to adopt this boy? As we drove home, my dad called, asking if we had made any decisions. I asked him what his opinion was on the matter, and he said that he felt like it was too early to adopt again, and that we should give Abel more time. I mulled those thoughts around, suddenly so disappointed. When we arrived home, I had a chance to call a dear friend, to see what she thought on the matter. As we talked, I brought up the issue about Abel. I told her how I had recently seen him playing with a two-year-old boy, and how much fun he had with him. We ended the conversation feeling like this adoption could really be a blessing for Abel, rather than a hindrance to his progress.
By the next day, Scott and I felt God's peace as we contacted our social worker again. We let her know that we wanted to be considered for this boy's family... And here we progress. Our home study starts next week, culminating the last three weeks we've been flying about in the paper chase.
The fears have not quit, but neither has God's mercy. If He wants us to bring this dear boy home to us, then we know He will. We are nervous about the process, but filled with joy at the thought of adding another African boy to our clan.
I want to end with acknowledging the injustice of the time frame. We have sweet friends who have been waiting for months to be matched with their children. And here we are, suddenly matched with a child before we've officially applied. For those sweet friends, please know how sorry I am for the injustice. We pray for you while you wait to be united with your dear ones.
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