The One Where I Ask for Your Money (Or not)

Sooooo…in case you haven’t been around in awhile, we are adopting from China.  And in case you’re headless, that is not an inexpensive endeavor.  That said, Sloan and I, along with Bono, believe that the God we serve is not short on cash.  And so while we’re not 100% sure where all the adoption funds are going to come from, we do have some inklings and we are making adjustments.

Some of you may have heard me proclaiming from the rooftops a couple of months ago that we were going to finally put my Suburban to rest and get a minivan. We saved and saved and saved and saved and were ready to put down a wad of cash on a Sienna when my husband heard the call to adopt again and I began dreaming of a little Asian boy in glasses running through my house.  So, despite my longing for a car whose doors open at the press of a remote and 17 cup holders and rows that fold quickly and doesn't constantly have a flashing Check Engine light, we’ve squashed that dream.  Or, at least, we are delaying it.  Because despite the Burbans troubles and dents, she is paid for.  

I gotta tell you, giving up a minivan seems like a much bigger thing to give up than Christmas cards.  I'll try not to exagerrate when I tell you that it was not a decision that came without tears.

So, perhaps in an effort to keep the Sienna dream alive, I came up with the idea to do fundraisers for the adoption: a yard sale, joining the BlogHer Ad network, figuring out some craft I can sell on Etsy, a friend hosting a 31 party for me and donating some of her commission to us, applying for grants, and even just letting folks donate money to a fund for us.  It was this last item that was a bit of a sticky wicket for us.

Here’s the thing: on some level, I do feel that adoption has a missional component.  It is a re-enacting of the Gospel.  We are leaving our comfort zone to go and bear with an orphan and bring back a son.  So in that respect, it feels right to invite others on this journey by soliciting prayer and funds.  However, the gospel also shows us that Jesus’ cost wasn’t only his heavenly throne but his very life.  (Therefore a delayed getting of a minivan seems pretty trite by comparison.)  And it is our cost to bear.  If you want to bear the cost of bringing an orphan home yourself, you should probably adopt as well.  (But if, say, you’re like 70 years old and you have those burlap sacks of cash with the money symbols on the sides just sitting around, we’ll take a couple.)  (I’m totally kidding.) (No, I’m not.)

However, if we invite others to donate money, we invite others to judge how we spend our money.  (Not that some people really need an invitation.)  An acquaintance of mine suggested that if we really wanted to adopt again, we should get rid of cable and internet, cell phones, pull Henry from preschool, never eat out again, never do date nights or birthday parties or presents again.   

Ummm…no.   

I need date nights and the occasional Steak Queso burrito from Qdoba.  And my husband, who works from home when he's not traveling, needs the internet.  And I could do without cable but we just signed a 2 year contract and there are fees if we break it.  And now I feel like I have to rationalize all of the ways I spend money to you.

If I let people donate to us are they going to be ticked when they see me post pics on Facebook of the kids Christmas presents? Or my pins on Pinterest about planning Henry’s Angry Birds themed birthday party?  Really, that judgment is the other person’s sin to carry and not ours, but we still feel its condemnation.  

At the same time, trust me when I say we are being very intentional with how we spend our money as of late.  And you should be intentional with your finances as well.  Maybe you should donate to our adoption fund.  Maybe it would be a way for God to work in your life.  But maybe, if you see my Facebook movie theater check-in when we go to see the Muppets over Sloan’s Christmas vacation and all you can think is, “Gosh, movies are expensive, if I’d known they were going to be so decadent, I wouldn’t have sent them $25” we really would rather you not help us out.  Donate straight to an organization like Bethany Christian Services or World Vision.  It’ll be tax deductible anyways, whereas the Phillips family, as awesome as we are, are not a 501©3 non-profit.  

All that being said, I’ll straight up take a donation of a new Toyota Sienna.  Smoky Topaz.  Leather Interior with the entertainment package.  I am, after all, going to be hauling around three kids soon.  Or a new Honda Odyssey.  I’m not picky.