This is the day

This is the Day

The day is here.  The bags are packed.  The arrangements have been made.
Yesterday as we sat in church I was so amazed at the journey we have been on over the last year and a half. The Lord has taught me so much about myself, his heart, and the life he has called us to to live.  I've been stripped of myself, shown the depth of my depravity, and surprised by how God has filled the places where he has emptied me.  Yesterday as we sang "You're great name" I just kept resting in the fact that He's got this.  I have never felt such peace. I know it is from the prayers that so many of you are praying.  The only feeling I can remotely and ignorantly compare it to is walking into battle with confidence of victory.  I know it is going to be tough and I know we will all come out with bumps, bruises and scars.  But I know there will be victory in the end.
With me being such a planner and worrier by nature, this feeling is totally foreign to me.  I've said with my mouth before that I trust him or I know his plan is better than mine, but I feel like I'm believing it in a new way for the first time.  A time when it is actually costly and demands more weight than I naturally give it.  Our pastor says there is a difference than believing your parachute will hold you while you are in the plane, and actually jumping and throwing your full weight into that belief.  Faith is dead without action.  I feel like that is the place he has sweetly brought me to.  We have jumped and are totally, amazingly, and surprisingly resting in his provision and plan.  I was talking with my dearest friend last night on the phone and she asked if there was anything I had fear about.  For the first time I had a hard time coming up with anything.  I told her, strangely, I had even thought through going to jail and I couldn't even get worked up about that if I tried.
It is sad that its actually a strange feeling to be in such a place of surrender, rest, and trust for the first time in my life, but I am so thankful he has brought me here.
One thing I hope you take away from my journey is that this is not the story of our children's "rescue".  This is the story of your rescue, this is the story of mine.  I think the reason so many people have enjoyed watching and coming alongside our journey is that is a more real portrayal of our redemption in Christ. I pray you see all the twist and turns, trials and challenge, grieving and joy as the journey of you finding Christ.  I pray you see yourself as the orphan, sitting unknowingly in a place that you thought life would be, until you are called out, bought with a price, fought for, planned for, pursued at all costs and brought into a family that you could have never "earned" or chosen on your own. This journey has reminded me of the identity I once had.  It has reminded me of my utter helplessness and dependence on my father. It has reminded me of the price he paid to take my place, set me free instead of himself. It reminds me that this world is not my home. It is just a dim shadow of the goodness that is in heaven. And the place he has given me at the table that I never could have earned or deserved a seat at. I pray you see Jesus through this journey, and if you have never met him before in such an intimate way, my biggest prayer is that you find him here. Today. This day. The day of your rescue.
Russell Moore writes in his book Adopted For Life the following passage about picking his boys up from their Russian orphanage::

We nodded our thanks to the orphanage personnel and walked out into the sunlight, to the terror of the two boys.

They’d never seen the sun, and they’d never felt the wind. They had never heard the sound of a car door slamming or felt like they were being carried along a road at 100 miles an hour. I noticed that they were shaking and reaching back to the orphanage in the distance. Suddenly it wasn’t a stranger asking, “Are they brothers?” They seemed to be asking it, nonverbally but emphatically, about themselves.

I whispered to Sergei, now Timothy, “That place is a pit! If only you knew what’s waiting for you—a home with a mommy and a daddy who love you, grandparents and great-grandparents and cousins and playmates and McDonald’s Happy Meals!”

But all they knew was the orphanage. It was squalid, but they had no other reference point. It was home.

We knew the boys had acclimated to our home, that they trusted us, when they stopped hiding food in their high chairs. They knew there would be another meal coming, and they wouldn’t have to fight for the scraps. This was the new normal.
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This is such a good reminder.  Number one for me as a mom of these two. Maran especially, she has probably never ridden in a car, seen an airplane, been to a grocery store. Who knows.  This will be a traumatic and confusing transition for her. She will have much to grieve.  I can't imagine what she will be thinking or feeling and we will be sensitive to that and not expect anything in terms of adjustment and connection. I have prayed much for it, but expect little.
But it is also a reminder of our own lives, we live here on earth like this is it, we have arrived, live it to the fullest because its over when we die.  But we were made for more. We were made with heaven in our hearts.  I know God is holding us close and saying "This place is a pit compared to living in my home, if you only knew what's waiting for you!"

As I sit on this plane headed to DC, before we cross the ocean that separates me from my daughter and son, I am stilled in his presence and content for the journey he has set before us. I am so honored and privileged to be a part of this story, His story, my small story.  We are not in this place because we are good people, we are here because we made a decision to say yes to God, no matter what he asked or called us to.
Within 36 hours, we will be holding our son and daughter.

The only thing I kept thinking as I worshipped him yesterday was,
"Alright God, here comes the first part of the battle, I'm ready, I know you are. Lets' do it.  You got this."

Psalm 2: 6-7 The Lord says, "You are my son; today I have begotten you. Ask and I will make the nations your inheritance, the ends of the earth your possession."