Thursday, June 16, 2011
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
It's June 1st, which means we're headed on a trip soon. But it means something else, too. The closer the trip gets, the closer we come to stepping over that line of "young and carefree" to "responsible and parental." Because, as soon as we return from Ireland, we're going to file our initial adoption paperwork.
Will and I aren't getting any younger. I'll be 31 later this year, and he'll be 31 early next year. As I've said before, we don't want kids in the house when we're 55, so we need to get the ball rolling. And my sister-in-law laid down the law with me the other day when she told me I needed to stop talking about it and make a decision one way or another. The decision is made, but I'm finding moving forward more difficult than anticipated.
Sometimes, God likes to give us little lessons in humility—or lessons in anything, really—since we can't grow as people without new experiences and emotions and ideas. One thing we've been struggling with is how we're going to finance this adoption. It's not a cheap process (we're facing about $30,000 to get it done), which means we're also facing some decisions about ourselves.
Admittedly, we have a lot of pride. We don't ask anyone for anything. But as more and more friends ask questions about our plans and what they can do to help, I'm starting to think maybe this is God's way of helping us learn a little humility. After all, most adoptive families do fundraisers or projects of some kind to help raise money. We've been absolutely determined to do it with no assistance at all. Maybe that's the wrong way to approach this process.
A friend of mine, who happens to be an adoptive dad, recently told me that most people realize how wrenching this process can be...and how expensive. He reminded me that we should never remove the joy of giving from someone who wants to be a gracious giver, who wants to help us in this process. It's their way of showing love and appreciation of what we're doing. I hadn't thought of it in that light—hadn't thought we could be denying someone the joy of seeing us bring a child home who needs a family. And if God places it on someone's heart to throw in a bit of assistance, is it wrong of us to turn it away? Is it like a slap in the face to Him?
I don't know the answers to all of those questions. I am learning to explore the idea of some kind of fundraiser. I don't know what it will be, but if we go that route, I'm thinking we'll do something online. It's what I'm best at and where I feel most comfortable. There are a lot of lessons to be learned as we move through this process, and I keep praying for my heart to be open to them all. And I can't help but laugh when I think of Him looking down at me and saying, "Jen, suck up the pride and learn when to ask for assistance. Pride only gets you so far."
I'll let you know where this leads us.
Will and I aren't getting any younger. I'll be 31 later this year, and he'll be 31 early next year. As I've said before, we don't want kids in the house when we're 55, so we need to get the ball rolling. And my sister-in-law laid down the law with me the other day when she told me I needed to stop talking about it and make a decision one way or another. The decision is made, but I'm finding moving forward more difficult than anticipated.
Sometimes, God likes to give us little lessons in humility—or lessons in anything, really—since we can't grow as people without new experiences and emotions and ideas. One thing we've been struggling with is how we're going to finance this adoption. It's not a cheap process (we're facing about $30,000 to get it done), which means we're also facing some decisions about ourselves.
Admittedly, we have a lot of pride. We don't ask anyone for anything. But as more and more friends ask questions about our plans and what they can do to help, I'm starting to think maybe this is God's way of helping us learn a little humility. After all, most adoptive families do fundraisers or projects of some kind to help raise money. We've been absolutely determined to do it with no assistance at all. Maybe that's the wrong way to approach this process.
A friend of mine, who happens to be an adoptive dad, recently told me that most people realize how wrenching this process can be...and how expensive. He reminded me that we should never remove the joy of giving from someone who wants to be a gracious giver, who wants to help us in this process. It's their way of showing love and appreciation of what we're doing. I hadn't thought of it in that light—hadn't thought we could be denying someone the joy of seeing us bring a child home who needs a family. And if God places it on someone's heart to throw in a bit of assistance, is it wrong of us to turn it away? Is it like a slap in the face to Him?
I don't know the answers to all of those questions. I am learning to explore the idea of some kind of fundraiser. I don't know what it will be, but if we go that route, I'm thinking we'll do something online. It's what I'm best at and where I feel most comfortable. There are a lot of lessons to be learned as we move through this process, and I keep praying for my heart to be open to them all. And I can't help but laugh when I think of Him looking down at me and saying, "Jen, suck up the pride and learn when to ask for assistance. Pride only gets you so far."
I'll let you know where this leads us.
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