The Sparrow. My Story of Matthew 10:29-31

When I bought valentines for my kids to share on Vday this year, the thought flickered across my mind that I should pick up an extra box. So I did. And then I patted myself on the back for preemptively dealing with the inevitable fallout when the last child to choose is stuck with the last box and therefore hates it, not because anything is wrong with it, but just because he/she didn't get to CHOOSE it.

I didn't really think about what to do with the leftover box, assuming, I suppose, that I'd just pass it along to a neighbor, or bring the Vday treats inside the box to share at the office.

So I was surprised when, the moment that I actually thought about it, a clear and distinct feeling came that I should give it to one of my daughter's teachers, for someone in the class who wouldn't be prepared with valentines that day.

I didn't pay much attention, and when I did remember, I'd wonder if I should just hand it to the first teacher I saw. And every time I'd have the clear feeling that it needed to be THAT teacher, in that classroom, in that grade.

I finally remembered on Valentine's Day itself. I grabbed the box and ran into the classroom when I dropped my kids off. The teacher was surprised, and looked doubtful. "Are you sure you want to leave it with me," she asked. "I'm pretty sure that all of my kids are ready for Valentine's Day." I told her to share the treats with the class if they weren't needed.

Later that day I got an email from the teacher. "How did you know?" she wrote. "One of the boys didn't have any valentines to hand out, and he was so sad. I gave him the box you dropped off and it made his day. He was so excited to not only have valentines, but to have such AWESOME ones."

Here's the thing that keeps getting me: I didn't know. His teacher didn't know. The other kids didn't know. Quite possibly, the kid himself didn't even know, because kids are kind of clueless like that, and don't always think about things like asking parents to get valentines for them.

But Somebody did.

Somebody cared enough about one little boy in one little school in one little town, to nudge one distracted and tired mom to grab an extra box of valentines, and point her feet in the direction they needed to go, and then open one teacher's eyes to see where the need was, so it could be filled.

It's not even a very big deal. In the big, grand scheme of things, not having valentines to pass out in fifth grade hardly rates as a reason for divine intervention.

That's how God works, though. If it matters to us, it matters to Him. He moves heaven and earth, moves overworked teachers and moms in minivans, to see us happy.

YOU matter. YOU are the child of Heavenly Parents, and your happiness is their sole aim. You are loved, even down to the details of your daily life. There is nothing too small or too silly; too big or too scary, that it can't be wrapped up in their love.

I promise. You are that important.

And worth so much more than sparrows.

Just One More

Just in case you haven't heard the hollering at our house....

We're adding one more. 

We're bringing home a new brother from China, yes, BUT we're also bringing home a new sister as well. Can you hear the heavens singing? 

I'm not even sure how to tell the story, in part because it's still being written. I'm still having a hard time wrapping my mind around all the crazy things that led up to this decision, and the miracle that we actually got approval to bring home a second baby. I won't lie--I'm freaking out a little bit when I think about TWO new little ones running around my house. One was scary; two is flat out terrifying. 

Oh, but we are so excited! This feels so right for our family. It's such a neat thing to watch things fall apart and then fall back together, perfectly and just-rightly. It's such a privilege to see God at work, up close and personal. 

The adoption process is brutal. I'd forgotten how rough it can be, and this most recent one so far trumps the others in sheer amount of work and emotional energy. At least every other day I find myself thinking that I can't do this again. And maybe I won't. That's okay, if I'm done after these two. 

The thing that has kept me pushing through is knowing that, however rough it is for me, it's so much worse to live life without a family. However unbearable the incredibly invasive process feels to me, it's so much worse to grow up without a family to hug you and play with you and be there for you and remember your birthday, and have a place to go at Christmas. 

One of the reasons that it took me three+ years to get on board the adoption plan this time around was because I wasn't convinced that adopting as a single mom was a great plan. I thought a two-parent family would be better for the child, and I wasn't sure that I, as a single mom, wanted to take on even more--especially when I know so intimately how hard it can sometimes be. God was patient with me and led me along until my heart was ready. Ultimately, two truths convinced me. One, I was busy whining about how I wasn't sure I could handle another child and I wasn't sure this was the right time for me/us, and this wasn't the way that I'd prefer to do it....and the whole time I was whining there were millions of orphans sitting in cribs who never even got asked if they could handle being alone, or whether this was the right time to be orphaned, or whether this was the way they'd prefer to live their lives. Two, I realized that they didn't need a great and perfect plan, with a great and perfect family. They just needed a family. Even a goofy, crazy one like mine. Even a single-mom family like mine, with loud, obnoxious siblings, and a tired, too-often-frazzled momma. We aren't perfect; I'm not perfect. But we're enough. 

I'm hoping to travel this summer to bring them home. Right now my paperwork is working its way through the final steps in Washington DC, then on to China. It's been a long and exhausting process. I keep reminding myself that the real work begins once they get home. Being part of a family when you've never known what "family" means can be scary and overwhelming and really, really hard. I have no illusions that this is going to be easy. But some of the best things in my life are also the hardest things. At our house, "hard" isn't a reason to avoid good things with eternal consequences. We grit our teeth and say lots of prayers and just keep plugging away. There are some advantages to being a stubborn little #$%&.  

Your prayers would be greatly appreciated. For me, as I work my butt off to make this happen financially.  For the kids in my home right now, who are working out realities like new bedroom arrangements and how to keep little ones out of their legos, and can't understand why adoption is such a long & seemingly endless process. For my kiddos who are waiting on the other side of the globe, who are about to go through an unbelievable life change, that likely won't seem like a good thing at first, from their perspective. Please pray for us. 

Also, soak in that loads of cuteness picture at the top. Am I the luckiest momma or what? I CANNOT WAIT to smooch those cheeks, and make my little boy chuckle (because seeing it in video is just not enough, not even close). 

God's plan is a beautiful thing. We are so blessed to be part of it.