Some Days I Forget My Reward ~

I sat in the child welfare conference area beside friends for whom we had battled in prayer.

Children for whom we had wept from our knees. 

My heart was filled with praise to see a room full of adoptions celebrated, yet shadowed with the quiet understanding to the lessons we had been learning in light of our calling becoming increasingly defined in the past months. 

Stepping into this world of foster care, our dreams craved a finalized adoption, another child, and new face.

Yet God has continued to say, No.

His plans for us have been distinctly different. We've delighted in walking with families and witnessing restoration, and we deeply feel these experiences will continue to shape our future.

Yet I'm ashamed to say not a day goes by that my eyes aren't pricked to tears and my feet aren't tempted to stomp and display a tantrum in rebellion.

I despise the jealousy, mingled with joy, that wells within me as I note my precious friends' adoption trial dates on my calendar with prayer.

It was this past Christmas Eve morning: the fact I had just been woken to sounds of vomit from the boys' room captured how I felt about foster care in perfection.

After cleaning the mess off the floor, I locked myself away in the basement to scrub the upchuck of my heart.

It wasn't pretty.

I demanded and bargained. I reminded God of every single thing to which we had said, Yes. I explained to him that I was fully aware that those efforts did not earn my salvation, but meeting me halfway would certainly be more than sufficient.

There, you have it. The nasty ugly.

How precious my Father did not leave me there.

As God asked Job in Job 38 ~

Where were you when I laid the earth's foundation? Tell me if you understand. Who marked off it's dimensions? Surely, you know. Who stretched a measuring line across it? On what were it's footings set, or who laid its cornerstone....? ~ Finish the chapter. It's humbling.

In the quiet of my soul I knew He was beckoning us to lay it all down once again. He wasn't surprised by my fresh bout of pouting. He calls me to be a living sacrifice. And I'm pretty sure that anything alive, being prepared for a kill, uses its reflexes in defense.

So He's teaching me to be still.

He's restoring my hunger for Him, to love through Him by abiding in Him.

He's reminding me that Jesus is enough.

My heart could only reply, as King David in I Chronicles 17:16, 

Who am I, Lord God, and what is my family, that you have brought me thus far?

And I worshipped.


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Because of Jesus ~

1 comment:

  1. Loved this post. Especially liked "I locked myself away in the basement to scrub the upchuck of my heart." Keep writing. Keep sharing.