Free Fall Friday*

I really want to tell y'all about what God is doing in our family.  But, for some fairly obvious privacy reasons, I can’t divulge on the internets what all is going on.  But I can tell you what is going on in my heart.

I’m flying.  

I’ve never been one for heights or extreme sports, but this jumping into the unknown with God is pretty wicked awesome.  I keep getting more and more information that should make me afraid, and each and every time, God shows up.  He’s planted friends in my life that are doctors and nurses, or who have spectacular and amazing kids with special needs,  and I’m no longer questioning if I’d count it as a cost to love a certain kid.   I’ve learned that on a list, special needs are abstract and scary.  But in the context of a child you love, they’re just needs for which you need to plan.

I asked my friend who has a child with special needs about how I should be praying.  (Thank you Jesus, for giving my family this family to love and be bestest buddies with.  We truly are better for knowing and loving and being loved by them.)  I said, "You've got the confidence that God has equipped you to parent a special need's kid because He gave him to you at birth."  She laughed and said, "You'd think that would make me confident, right?  I'm not.  I'm just winging it.  But I'm confident in God's grace."  Gulp.

And the more information I’ve been able to receive about a certain waiting child, the less frightened I've become.  Which is odd, because at first all I knew was that the child was cute and had some issues they defined as “moderate to severe”.  And now I know this child has this disease that could render this child blind or crippled (or not, it’s one of those things that is a spectrum diagnosis).  And yet, I'm less afraid.  Or, it isn't that I'm not afraid, it's just that I don't care about the fear.  I wanna be this kid's advocate. I wanna be the one to tell this child Jesus is fighting for him or her.  I wanna be the one to take this child to physical therapy and be the first face this child sees after surgeries.

In a strange way, it's not that different from when the doctors and nurses tried to "warn" us about Gracie and what it would be like to parent a kid with abstinence syndrome.  (Which, by the way, is the DUMBEST thing to call the syndrome that basically means "a kid born addicted to drugs".)  Honestly, they could tell me this waiting child's skin was green and I'd say, "AWESOME!  We love Shrek and I know all the words to every song in Wicked!  And did you see Glee last week?  We know it ain't easy being green.  And have you seen me in green?  It’s so my color!”   

Whether God intends this child to be ours or not remains to be seen. But what is clear, is that we love this child.  Irrevocably.  Maybe another family will adopt him before we're able to complete our home study.  Or maybe God has something else for us.  Maybe it will be similar to how we still love, pray and ache for Emma Sloan.  Who knows?  But we’ve fallen in love.  And love drives out fear.

I’m no longer afraid of what’s in store for us.  I know what is in store for us—yes, some heartache.  Assuredly, whole stinkin’ heaps of it.  But also snuggles. And zerberts. And laughter.  And time spent playing trains.  And just being a family.  Because like I said before, there is no need this kid has that trumps this kid’s need for a Mommy.  And, quite possibly, a free falling Mommy like me.

*It should be noted that this post was actually written on Thursday night.  And today, Friday afternoon, I can tell you that God is even bigger than I imagined last night.  And also, I have no clue what He is up to.  BUT IT’S GONNA BE GOOD.