Little steps of faith... Very little steps... God provides what I need exactly when I need it. Sometimes it's sitting on my doorstep all the time, but it's not time yet for whatever reason. Sometimes it's because other people's hearts need to be prepared. Sometimes it's because my heart needs to be prepared. Sometimes it's because my need is not great enough for the supply He has in store. Sometimes it's very hard for me to cope emotionally with this truth. But that's what freedom in Christ is really about: freedom to have joy when I would be a slave to the emotional consequences of my circumstances. Sometimes it makes my head spin.
I'm still having a hard time letting go of my adoption dream--I started trying to pursue it back in
2003, even plowing through state waiting child listings. I found a child who I couldn't get out of my mind. Her name is April. I still can't get her out of my mind. Every piece of my circumstances tells me that I will not be able to adopt April, that she will age out of the system before I can get my life together. She is already several months past 16 years old, and my family is very unsupportive of the idea of me adopting a teenager. But she has very severe disabilities and will never live independently. I told my parents that it doesn't really matter whether the child I adopt is six or 16. I plan to adopt a child with significant disabilities, and that means that i will likely have my child at home past the college years. I am more prepared by my life's experiences for the adoption of an older child than I am for the adoption of a younger child. I'm the odd person in the system who social workers will want because I don't want those little kids. That's something my family will come to accept in time as they come to accept most other things about me that scare them at first. This is no road we haven't been down before, and the discussions have been very civil. They're just scared because they don't know what to expect and all they've heard is horror stories. Fortunately we know some people in the community who have had very positive experiences with older child adoptions, and I'm encouraging my parents to get to know them and get used to the idea that all older adopted children are not holy terrors.
I told someone the other day: "I know that April may not be my child, and I know there are other Aprils out there. I accept that. But she's not going to go to college and support herself and it will just be sad that she never was adopted. She needs a home. That's what hurts." I wrote to a friend: "She'll get a state-appointed guardian. I know guardians care, too, but it isn't the same as having a mom; and every time I think about it I cry--not for me but for her, and I want to fix it not for me but for her." Another friend said to me that "God loves April, too." I know that, and I know He'll take care of her. I wish--I pray--that He will use me to do it, and I'll keep praying that for the next two years. I can't give up just yet--not while there is still time. I know I can't take matters in my own hands and force the issue--I can't even if I wanted to because there is just part of the situation that is beyond my control. I can't make a job appear for myself. But if anyone is reading this and you pray, would you please do a bit of storming heaven on April's behalf?