In just a matter of days now, our hearts had been freed and yet felt heavy. The emotion was overwhelming. And the “signs” felt overwhelming. It seemed everywhere I looked, I saw adoption stories. On Facebook, someone posted their story, “His Plan, Our JOY” (hmmm. sounds exactly in line with my thoughts). On Pinterest, someone was pinning adoption sites for their growing family. This was only the beginning of the flood of “adoption” stories that would invade our comfortable life (more to come later).

I turned to the only person I felt I could talk to about these new feelings and questions. I had met her 10years before when I volunteered where she worked. She moved away, and 10 years later we were standing next to each other at church watching our sons (only a day apart in age) playing together and instantly reconnected. I called her on the phone and she told me about international adoption. Her son was from Ethiopia and they were in the process of adopting a daughter there as well. It was such a relief to talk to someone.

After we hung up, I prayed for God to speak clearly to Tony and I. I want to do what we were supposed to, not just what I wanted. I wanted what HE wanted. But I couldn’t help feeling so alive thinking about her, imagining “Isaac making her laugh and they both have beautiful smiles, Sy hugging on her with so much love and Jude following her endlessly; her shadow.” (I wrote that back in February 2012)

That same night I was going to a weekly class at my church to become a Stephen’s Minister. I had this fear that these new feelings stemmed from selfish desires for more. I had to know if it was me or God that wanted this. I really had never felt so strongly about something so quickly in my life and I had to make sure it was worth this amount of energy and emotion, and not some self-serving ideals. On the drive to the training, I asked God to please use the word “adoption” in my class for confirmation that we were supposed to be pursuing this. And I agreed not to pursue this if it was not confirmed. It felt so sudden, this longing in my heart. I apologized to God for needing this but honestly humbled myself to his power and attention and wisdom. When I got to class, Maggie (a sweet lady in my class that I later found out adopted her son) had inspirational mugs for us filled with Valentine chocolates. We could chose from blue “Believe”, lavender “Peace”, green “Hope” or pink “Joy”. Guess which one I got–JOY in pink (see my 1st post in this blog). I was emotional but didn’t explain why. I wasn’t ready to tell anyone about these feelings yet. That night we were trained to help counsel those with depression. It was going to be a tall order for God to get the word
“adoption” in. And all through class, NO mention of adoption. I really thought I would be dropping this emotional distraction very soon. But then just before the end of class, Pastor Rick came in to meet us and pray with us. After we all made our introductions and Rick talked some, Maggie says to Rick, “Your father in law handled my son’s adoption.” I almost started crying right there. I am pretty sure I was shaking noticeably but played it off as my emotional self. I praised God then and the whole way home, thanking Him for loving me sooooo much. Until this time, I had never asked for a word like this and I have never again. It was one of those moments that is ingrained in my mind for how unique this experience was.

I knew God had orchestrated those events: Maggie’s gifts, Maggie’s bold statement, Rick coming to our class, and even me making such a request.

I cannot even explain the emotion and Joy I felt knowing that God was speaking so clearly and that He wanted my daughter and I to be together. I could feel my heart growing. There had been a space for her for a long time, but after this, wow, the hope was so real.