Joining the Sacred Scared movement today and taking off the mask
(I am literally letting it all hang out…and letting you see what I look like in the mornings…ahhh!!!!!) My husband just called and asked “What is up with that picture on your blog?” hahaha He is scared for me.
I would love to journey up Mount Everest in Nepal. Well, really what I mean is that I like the idea of backpacking through massive mountains only if backpacking looked a little more like a helicopter dropping me off at the peak of the mountain (or wherever it is that helicopters drop off). I imagine the view is like what you would see in a National Geographic magazine, but even better. After all, I wouldn’t be merely reading about it but I would be seeing it with my own eyes. That is completely different, isn’t it? Ahhh, now that would make a great photo to upload. Don’t get me wrong. Purchasing some expensive hiking boots and a new Northface backpack and Canteen (vocab coming back from my short lived days as a girl scout) and vest would make me feel awesome – totally legit. But the excitement quickly wears off when I am reminded of the work involved in climbing up the highest mountain on earth (I am an expert on the work because I am a student of Google).
First, there is the issue of oxygen, you know, that thing we breathe in that we don’t really think much about until we don’t have it. If I understand correctly, it is somewhat crucial for LIVING. Google informs me that there is a “death zone” as one travels to the upper most parts of this mountain and it’s a struggle to breathe as one climbs into higher altitudes. Apparently climbing crazy, tall mountains can also cause hallucinations, dizziness, and umm – brain swelling. Then there is all the huffing and puffing that would make me lose more oxygen. Not to mention the potential avalanches, hypothermia, and sunburn! Also, I am fairly sure that I am not prepared to fight off the host of wild animals that would not be so fond of me huffing, puffing, and stumbling all crazily through their home. They are not ready for this; that is for sure. Then I am just trying to think logistically through this daydream; for example, where would I sleep? Where would I bathe and what does one eat? Do I have to kill my own food?
Generally speaking, I am not a person who enjoys doing hard things. Yes, I am that girl who quits in the middle of a Jillian Michaels’ workout video because my muscles are burning. I realize it is good for them but I. Just. Cant. Keep. Going.
Can I be painfully honest?
Peace, comfort, control, easy, and fun are things that I highly value. For this reason, adoption scares me.
Our family has been praying through adoption for quite some time now, and I want to share with you my biggest fears.
The reasons I am struggling in my flesh to adopt are as follows:
1.) I do not like to do hard things. Although I love the idea of rescuing a child, I realize it’s anything but easy. I find it difficult enough to love, feed, teach, and play with three children. I can barely take care of the three I already have, much less adding a fourth to this chaos! All three of my children are sleeping now; what if this child doesn’t sleep? What if this child has leaning disabilities that the medical history did not show? What if the child was abused? What if I just do not love this child as much as my biological children? I fear that I am going to mess up my current children and adding another to “arrow” to the mix- freaks me out!
2.) Financial challenges. It already seems like mission impossible to stretch out our groceries and it doesn’t exactly help that my children have the talent of being hungry every hour. How in the world are we going to afford an extra mouth to feed? Medical bills? School? Clothing? I enjoy being able to go on family vacations and with an extra child, will that happen? Will I ever see an ocean again? What if we do not have enough money to go out to eat and I have to cook every meal the rest of my life?
3.) Finding babysitters. Let’s face it. The more kids you have, the less people are standing in line to offer assistance. In babysitting, you’ll rarely find “the more the merrier” mentality.
4.) I like control, and adoption seems completely out of my control. Here is the deal. My natural tendency is to manage my life in such a way that I have to exercise very little faith. Every other hour I feel like I have my life “under control.” I know our schedule, when to take the kids, and when to pick up. I’ve finally learned what subjects to avoid in order to prevent siblings from breaking out into a civil war. I know what food my kids will (and will not) eat, and our bedtime routine is finally down (for the most part). In fact, at least a few nights a week, we still have time to watch an episode or two of Parenthood. I just feel like I have the THREE kids thing down, but really, I totally know that I don’t have it down. After all, every other day I have an emotional episode of telling myself why I’m the worst mom on the planet. Is it even right to bring another kid into the equation to be stuck with my inadequacies and failures?
5.) This is a busy season of life. My husband is in the middle of his Ph.D. (when the rest of us go to sleep at night, he goes “to school” until 1 or 2am). He is also leading a church that is experiencing rapid growth. There is a constantly flow of building meetings, deacon meetings, meetings with members, marriage coaching, counseling, funerals, weddings, etc. Additionally, I am currently writing a book, taking care of the home, trying to be an intentional mother, exercising, trying to meet with women in the church, singing on the praise team, involved in accountability groups, speaking at churches, and blogging. As a family we are leading a missional community group, involved in school activities, extra curricular activities, etc. I’m not whining; most of you have as busy if not busier schedules. It’s just life, but still, it FEELS very busy.
6.) We will be THAT family. You know, that family that should know, “how that happens by now!” Even with the three kids that we have (a relatively small amount compared to a number of my friends) we still totally get the dirty stares in Target (What!!! I know my kids are wearing their lunch all over their mouths and that their shoes don’t match, but I was desperate to get a pack of diapers because my three year old still isn’t potty trained!) Let’s face it; families of four and over are like a walking circus and people are buying tickets and chomping on popcorn waiting to see what happens with you walking on that tight rope.
At the end of the day, one more child is more huffing, puffing, grasping for oxygen, dizziness, and my head literally swelling. BUT . . . one more child is also more laughter, joy, stories, learning, growing, climbing, seeing, hoping, and clinging – to Jesus. Oh how I do need to cling! Maybe the harder the climb, the more dependent and thankful I become and the more I realize I need HIM to breath in me and through me. Jesus is my source of strength; He is the vine in which I abide. Apart from Him, I can do nothing. However, sometimes it takes desperate situations to compel us to cling to Him. If having another child will cause me to cling more firmly to Him, then it is a beautiful thing.
Then there is the doubt-maybe there is not enough oxygen at the top of that mountain!! I am fearful I will run out of grace. Does grace ever run dry?
Yes, it’s great to read about rescuing the orphans, but what about actually putting on my back pack, lacing up my shoes, and getting ready to work? Now, that’s different.
Will we do hard things? I can tell you one thing for sure. I am scared. This totally freaks me out. I am a manipulator of life; I manipulate things to make them easy. I sort of pick and choose things to allow into our life so that I can roll with the punches. Yet while safety, comfort, and ease are commodities that I highly value; they are not values that you will find in the Scripture.
After all, God Himself did hard things.
In the person of Jesus Christ, He gave up the glories of heaven to come down and rescue orphans (us) out of our orphanage of sin. The only reason I’m even able to think about adoption is because my Father in heaven first adopted me.
He chose to be with people who were not well put together, clean, and amazing. The people that God chose to call His children were a complete mess, abused, needy, dependent, and in slavery to sin.
Adopting us was costly. God gave up His one Son to gain many others. I want to be like Him.
Pray for my family as we need the grace to do hard things. Join me over here at Twitter