Do you ever have those moments/days/weeks/seasons when your words are few, but you still somehow feel the need to say something? Anything. Every now and then my fingers just want to dance their way across the keyboard and write their own story. Come what may, they need to flit and flutter and plink and plunk and create a masterpiece out of the silence.
Tonight I spent some time looking at recent pictures of pudgy pink newborns and giggling bouncy toddlers who fill up the hearts and homes of many of my friends. I found myself so excited for them– and so sad for myself.
A *very* small handful of you know that Jeremy and I very seriously and prayerfully considered a vasectomy reversal earlier this year. We knew that God was calling us to open our hearts and grow our family, so we thought that this was the best and most affordable option for us. We even went in for the consultation and had the procedure scheduled.
About three weeks before the appointment, I knew that we needed to cancel. My spirit was keenly aware of what my mind wasn’t– that our lives were about to be turned upside down and that we needed to wait.
Waiting is tough. Especially when you aren’t 100% sure what you’re waiting for. But I can tell you one thing, the wait is always always worth it.
As we’ve danced around this topic, the conclusion that we’ve come to is that we absolutely love being parents. Love it. Love. It. (Did I mention that we love it?) What’s more is that there are 147 MILLION orphans who desperately need and want parents to love them. A daddy to tuck them in at night. A mommy to feed them until their bellies are full. A brother to pray over them. A sister to sing and giggle and dance with…and as much as they need me, I know that I need them too.
Our idea of increasing our family biologically is off the table. Something about it just feels off now– not wrong, just not the best plan for us. Jeremy and I don’t have any idea how or when we can ever begin to look at adoption– the mountain seems too steep, but I know that He loves those lost little ones out there enough to bring them home to us when the time is just right. Until then, we’ll keep on praying, believing and loving them from across the world.
By the way, the only thing Peyton asked Santa for this year was one G.I. Joe– and gifts for all of the orphan boys and girls all over the world. Tears fell down my face when he shared his Christmas wish to Santa Clause. What a beautiful and merciful heart. I’m so thankful.