Patterns

We have done this before. What I am about to describe has happened time and time again. You would think I would learn. And maybe I have. Because I do recognize each phase when I am in it. But it seems that recognition doesn't help change my emotional response. It is somewhat amusing to me that I seem to fall for the same emotional ride every time.

Last night at this time I was so excited to have the monies we need to submit our immigration paperwork and move forward with agency fees that would be holding us back. I was SO grateful. So full of thanks and gratitude. I was so ready to praise my Father in Heaven for His beautiful miracles and dance about filled with hope and joy.

And then the pattern began: Today we looked ahead to the next step. And. I. Freaked. Out.

Actually, what spurred us to look ahead at numbers was a large shift in end-of-year monies that we did not see coming. This being the last day of the year we received hard numbers from Brad's employer and were able to look at our own business and personal finances for the year. We had missed something that caused a significant shift in numbers.

Our hope has been that a combination of year end monies and a tax return in the next couple months would change the forecast for our adoption needs. The hard numbers do not show the opportunity we were hoping for.

Tonight, for the first time, we had to start talking about the possibility of not traveling together on this trip. There are many reasons we did not want to explore this option:

-Our boys need to recognize from the get-go that mom and dad are a package deal. We are equally important and significant. We can be trusted and we are both completely devoted to them. "Parents" are a new concept to our boys who have spent their entire lives in institutions (unlike Justin and Ty who remember living with their fathers). The first weeks together in country are invaluable as the distractions of work and siblings are not present. Being able to greet our boys together and work toward teaching them from day one is something we do not want to sacrifice.
-This is the first time we are bringing 2 children home at the same time. The logistics of meeting 2 children's needs (especially special needs) will likely require 2 adults full time attention depending on the circumstances.
-Both of our boys have special needs that could be misdiagnosed or misrepresented. In adoption we prepare for the worst and hope for the best. We could arrive in China to find a significant difference in what we expected from our boy's needs and abilities.
-If there is any trouble with paperwork, not having both parents physically present can complicate things. It is also much more comforting to travel with each other in case of travel changes or other changes. Things like a delayed flight (happened on all three of our previous adoptions at least once) can feel much less stressful with your spouse there to battle through with you.
-The emotional weight of adoption and international travel combined with being away from home and children is crazy hard. It is not an ideal time to be 'alone' in the process.

This conversation was hard to have. Neither of us want to travel alone or be left behind alone for 2-3 weeks. But we are running out of options and it is time to take a look at every possibility of lowering expenses to get Nathan home.

And so the freak-out crept in. What if it's not enough? What if we can't even get one of us there in time? There doesn't seem to be a way. These numbers just can't work. Even if the miracle does happen and one of us does go without the other what if they have to face some of the bad 'what ifs' alone? What if what if what if.

It's an ugly phrase: what if. Doubt is the opposite of faith.

The pattern seems to be: rejoice in some form of miracle, experience some form of set back, have an emotional break down of sorts, remind myself that it will be okay and I believe, receive some form of spiritual confirmation that all is well, feel silly for doubting anything in the first place. And, I hesitate to add the last piece, but it has happened every time: within hours experience some other significant miracle that blows my mind and makes me feel like a complete fool for not just waiting in patience.

At this moment I am feeling silly for doubting in the first place. After freaking out and having a good cry in the shower followed by resolving to stop worrying and believe only, I took Caity down to Roseville for a New Year's dance. On my way home I heard this:

My sight is incomplete
And I made you look small
I've been staring at my problems
For way too long

Realign where my hope is set
Until you're all that's left

I don't need to see everything
Just more of you

Brad told me tonight he feels like a child watching his father put together a big puzzle while complaining about not being able to see the picture. "The pieces aren't big enough! You aren't putting it together fast enough for me to see! Can't you work on this part over here?!"

All of the pieces to the puzzle are there. The Father knows how they will fit together. And He knows just how to do it so the picture will be finished in His time. Yet here we sit complaining about each piece he reveals. We want the pieces to reveal more. We want the big picture to become obvious faster. We want the parts we expect to make a difference to progress.

Faith.

Patience.

I don't need to see everything.

Just more of you.

Magnify no other name.