A few months ago, our church hosted a series on adoption. It broke me in all the right ways: reminding me of His love for us and our future child, whispering again His constant provision and that He has everything – even our bank account – under control.
And then we met with a couple who heads up a sending organization. We talked with them of dreams we have – and how this adoption has moved us to the point of faith we never imagined even a year ago. The man smiled as he listened, and then said “you know – I’m going to pray for this child of yours. I’m going to pray you guys become parents at the precise moment you’re meant to, and I’m praying you always remember the joys of living under the Kingdom economy.”
I paused a bit there, a little unsure of where he was going. He looked at us and shook his head, “I can’t tell you how many couples we send who by all means shouldn’t have found the money to make it overseas. Our economy is not God’s economy.”
And then I squeezed Russ’ knee, because I knew.
Our life right now? It doesn’t make sense. My quitting does not equate to any sudden onslaught of money. I write, yes. I’ve published a book – true. But I haven’t seen any money from Come Alive yet and going from a steady, secure and nice income to well…a future filled with question marks is devastating to this control idol I’ve held on to with such force.
And freeing. It’s so completely freeing.
The following week, we were approached by a friend who said him and his wife felt called to participate in helping us bring our child home. He sent our agency a generous check, and we were clear through mid-December in payments.
This still left us wondering how and when we’d pay off the rest, but I wasn’t concerned anymore. I’d seen Him provide for us every month at just the right moment; He would do the same for our adoption. I knew it.
Over the past few weeks, we’ve been talking with a friend from church who now lives overseas. After a few vague texts from a mutual friend, we received an email from him stating that after hearing the Stone’s series on adoption, him and his wife wanted to join with those in the midst of the process. He asked us to share our story, asked us what we were doing to fundraise, and asked how much we owed.
And then he told us he would pay the rest.
There’s really no words to explain how I felt in that moment of complete grace and generosity. Two months ago, in the midst of our adoption falling apart and feeling the weight of expectation failure, I would look at the amount we owe – close to 10,000 dollars – and feel the fear creep up and turn to a bitter disbelief. I felt forgotten. Manipulated. Tossed aside.
This whole process has been a lesson in extreme faith. Do I trust Him enough to create a new budget without my income? Do I believe in His faithfulness in providing for us? Do I share all of the ways He’s stepped in and moved on our behalf?
I hope so, but I know my finite human heart. I know the difficulty of seeing such a huge number and all of the hurdles we have yet to jump and think, “really? You’re for me even here? Now? Because…all I see is debris.”
But the truth? If I look close enough, I don’t see broken pieces. I don’t see debris from everything that’s fallen apart. I see a mosaic telling a story of His goodness and restoration.
A few days ago, we sent the last of the checks and a copy of my book to our agency in Houston. As soon as our case worker receives the package and deposits the checks, Jubilee will be fully funded.
And just like that, we’re closer than we’ve ever been to bringing our little one home.