"It's going to require people who are willing to deny themselves ... willing to be surrendered, dangerously surrendered - people who will become seriously disturbed and who will become gloriously ruined." ~Kay Warren
I was washing the dishes when these words came out of my kitchen radio and started banging around in my heart. We were knee-deep in adoption paperwork, always coming back to this packet of information revolving around what types of special needs we would be willing to accept in a child. Please answer yes, might consider, or no: Birth family history of diabetes? Birth family history of dyslexia? Mild hearing loss? Missing limbs? Brain deficiency? Birth family history of drug and alcohol abuse? The list was so long, so detailed, so clinical.
We went to a seminar where a doctor (who was also an adoptive mom and adoption advocate) fleshed out what it would potentially look like to say yes to those needs. I felt sick to my stomach.
My heart said, "Say yes! Just say yes!" And my head said, "Are you crazy? How would you ever deal with (*enter some major birth defect here*)?" It was a never-ending struggle between my heart and my mind. And then I turned the radio on while washing dishes.
Dangerously surrendered. Gloriously ruined.
We said yes.
(There is nothing wrong with saying no to an item on that list if the peace to say no is there; we had no peace.)
That concept of being gloriously ruined kept banging around in my heart, making me a rather serious individual instead of someone happily documenting the adoption journey during those days. In my wallet, I carried this C.S. Lewis quote around: "We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be." Because that was where my heart was. I knew that surrendering to whatever God had for us was the best thing to do, but I absolutely could not stop thinking about how painful it could be.
Recently, I came across another quote that sums up my feelings now on that time almost two years ago:
"I agonize and cry when the cross is working within me, but when it is over I look back in admiration for what God has accomplished. Of course I am then ashamed that I bore it so poorly. I have learned so much from my foolish reactions." ~Francois Fenelon
I am so grateful for what God taught me through that surrender. I wish I had walked through it less somber and more joyful, less worried and more trusting. I can only look back in admiration for what He accomplished, this journey a gift despite my weakness.
Some day, I will look through that packet anew, and I will very likely struggle with how much I can handle, how much our family can handle. But oh, how I want to come to that packet not with dread but with excitement: excitement over what God has for us, over what will prove to be God's best for us, over what we can handle only in the strength that comes from depending on Jesus.
"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord you God will be with you wherever you go." Joshua 1:9, which we read before driving to NC to meet Ishmael, and which God continues to bring to mind on each step of this journey.
So glad I came here today! This post sings a song to me. I so remember that checklist! And that C.S. Lewis quote says it all. God's best is not always (maybe usually?) not the easiest. But who are we to argue?
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