Thursday, March 30, 2017

Stepping out of the boat

The past few months have been a roller coaster of emotions for our family. And what seemed impossible, now appears to be possible. To quote the Bandit, "We have a long way to go and a short time to get there" but deep in my soul, I believe that we will indeed get there.

I listened to an online sermon today from my home church up north on Peter stepping out of the boat. The message resonated with me, challenged and encouraged me. Multiple books have been written on this and probably countless sermons have been preached on the topic, but only because the idea of taking a risk to do something extraordinary yet improbable reaches down deep inside to a touch-point that God purposely designed and placed there.

 If you had told me a year ago that we would be moving forward to adopt a child, I would have been skeptical. Greg and I had long talked about adoption, but never pursued it.  After locking eyes one last time with D in O'Hare last summer before he left, that whisper came, "Step out of the boat". The hollowness I felt echoed the whisper when his shoes weren't lying by the door, his toothbrush had been packed away and Justin Timberlake no longer played in his room. And yet, I fought it. Because how do I know if this is what I'm supposed to do, or just what I really want?

This whole process has been a time of asking God to speak slowly and use little words so that we don't miss the point, we don't miss His leading and we don't make an error in judgement. It's easy to view everything through my lens and believe there is a tidy answer that aligns perfectly with my perspective. But we all know it isn't that simple.

Amidst the complexity, our prayer has become, "Lead us where you want us to go and close the doors we're not meant to walk through." And after months of slowly walking down a dimly lit hallway and tripping over gray objects, the most important door in the process has swung wide open.

I hear the waves and my feet are dangling over the side. I can't help but wonder if Peter felt like he was going to throw up when he moved his leg up and over the edge, or if he was simply euphoric, a combination of the two, or something else entirely. Someday I'll have to ask.