Gulp.

So yeah. Here's that adoption blog that I started a few years ago and purposed in my heart to write and be faithful and tell of God's faithfulness in our journey to a weird, nontraditional parenthood.

Here it is, 2014 and I've been around the world and back (if you count living in NYC for a year and a half "around the world"). We sold half of our possessions and stopped the adoption process because of a job transfer. We then lived an amazing 18 months in a city and area like no other. We then left it all, including the corporate ladder that we were climbing, to come back to the place we thought wasn't for us. We came back trying not to look back at what we left.

We came back changed. We felt confirmation that we were to be parents. God allowed two amazing jobs to open up for Martin and I and we didn't walk back, we RAN. We JUMPED. We spent all our MONEY. And something happened in the midst of all of this. We decided to pursue foster care. Jesus, take the wheel! We are beside ourselves scared. Like pee in our pants scared. I've always told people that we were called to adoption and international adoption at that. But God revealed to Martin and I that we were called to follow him. It didn't matter what that looked like as long as we were in obedience to him. We desire children. But why international? Yes there is a HUGE need. Millions of children are living in institutions that need parents. But for us, (and listen this is me being ugly and transparent) we were in control of international adoption. We would go over and get our baby or child. We were bringing them back here to the US and there wasn't anybody who would take them away. There would be no grandma who felt like their blood needed to be kept in the family and take our baby away. There would be no judge who thought that their uncle who worked 70 hours a week would be better for this child than us. We would get a child and they would be ours. We'd have to pay up to $30,000 for that child but it would be ours. And although I knew in my heart that this wasn't reality, it was my god that I was clinging to. Security in our American lives is a human right so we think. But it's not. Security is only a mirage. And as Martin and I talked about it, we felt foster to adopt was the way we would go. And people think we're crazy. But guess what? We are. Um, hello! We sold half our possessions and spent all of our savings to move two hours north to a different world for 18 months only to move back to the same place we were. That my friends is crazy.

And crazy is how I prefer to live. Crazy is how I learn. God knows that and he obviously takes joy in that. And as we are going through this journey of fostering, and I'm hearing the foster child horror stories that people love to give , I just smile and say, "Since when did God call us to easy?" We build these padded walls around our hearts and our bank accounts and our family. And we say, "Okay God! I'm ready to serve you!"

We forget that this is all his story, not ours. We're just minor characters in an Awesome God's play. He and his Son and Spirit are the leads. How can we think we are any more significant? Yet on the other side of the coin, how can we imagine that a God so big, wants anything to do with us? Yet he does. He is our biggest supporter. Our biggest encourager. Our biggest advocate. It always comes back to him doesn't it? Shouldn't it?

I'm getting back into this writing thing. I've worn a different hat the last couple of years that didn't really have room for my writing brain. Now, I've worked, learned, and am ready to type my fingers on this keyboard and blog. More on our foster process soon. I've got to go now because our social worker told me a living room full of boxes won't pass a home inspection.