How can we not?

Last night we sat down with our boys.

After a week of sacrificing and surrendering to our little beans who went home to a grandmother yesterday, they cuddled up with us.

We were asked to consider something yesterday evening that isn't exactly our "go-to" call. 

We explained we had something important to talk to them about, and Benj said, as he threw back his head, "I knew it. Mommy's got a baby in her belly. I mean look how big it is."

Nice, Benj, considering I've been doing Paleo for a month and was actually feeling pretty peppy about myself. Always need a seven-year-old boy to help you "walk humbly."

We explained that no, that was not the item of discussion, and then we described the situation.

It was easily something the boys could have said no to. It was easily a moment they could have told us that they are tired, especially after week of sacrificing and serving with what seems to them as no end result. It was easily a moment where they could have told us they are done, and not one person on earth would have given it a second thought.

But when we gave them a door that we know and they know will lead to some discomfort, rearranging, sharing Mommy and Daddy, and sacrifice, the boys God has allowed us to be stewards of responded with...

This will be the coolest adventure yet.

I'm so nervous, but man, I'm so excited.

This is what I've been waiting for.

Will you wake us up at 4 am to tell us what you decide?

Do we have a vote? Because we know we'll win.

I think back to the question we get asked almost every day, the question we explored a few weeks ago, How do your kids do with this? or Do you feel good about doing this to them?

And I hear their responses after two years of loving and serving with no guarantees of profit or gain, and I realize if I had dictated our ministry based on what the world might consider their comfort and security, my boys would not be the men of God they are growing into, with glimpses that I witnessed tonight.

The vote is still out on our decision, but tonight I was reminded...

These children are not mine. They belong to another, who has scripted each of their stories from the beginning of time, for His glory, not mine. My only role is to discover, study and help nurture those stories of their bringing the kingdom of God to earth in a way that only they can. 

How can we not be part of that?

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Because of Jesus,