It’s 3 AM. Our house is quiet except the dripping of the shower faucet we have no idea how to fix. I want to sleep but it’s not happening…again.
I’m not sure if it’s worry. Maybe fear. Maybe anticipation. I just know it’s that deep ache that wakes me up every night or so. Usually at this dreadful hour.
This time I decided to type. And for the reader’s sake to save the posting til a few hours later. I may wake up tomorrow morning (if I ever fall back asleep) and be embarrassed by this post. It may not make any sense. But it’s time I write. Get it out there…
Adoption is not glamorous. Sometimes it seems like a fad. What all the cool families are doing (kinda like a 30 year old who pierces her nose and wears Toms. Who would do that??). The stories on youtube are compelling. The passion of other adoptive families is contagious. Adoption? Who wouldn’t want to do it? It’s so…cool.
Maybe so…maybe one day after we get our sweet baby I’ll be there. But this morning, again, I feel like we’re in the trenches. Fighting a battle with no end. Raising my white flag and telling God this isn’t so cool after all. Praying for a miracle but doubting one will come.
Am I a naysayer? Nope. Just a realist. And at 3 in the morning…sleepless…it feels important to say. Adoption is the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. Harder than breaking my femur. Harder than not walking for 3 months. If this is cool, I don’t wanna be cool.
I’m sure it will be beautiful in the end. But this morning, let’s be real. It’s tough. And if not for God’s calling. If not for His grace every day. I would have high-tailed it out of here.
Adoption is warfare.
So with confidence and sleep in my eyes, I write…Count the cost. Pray your rear off. Then enter into this journey ready. Ready to learn how to trust in a God who counted the cost for you. Ready to be humbled by His amazing, never gonna stop love.
Adoption is not cool. It’s a chance to draw closer to my Abba.