Sometimes I honestly believe that God gives Caden the VERY words I need to hear at the VERY times I need to hear them. I just really believe that.
And though I could recount all of the many ways that God has graciously used that little pint-sized soul to speak into my soul, suffice to say…He’s used him a LOT.
And yesterday was no different.
Sitting around our kitchen table with half-eaten plates of grilled turkey and cheese, some of us sportin’ hummus mustaches, we were reviewing some of the TRUTHS we’ve been committing to memory over the last year.
Together, we recited the TRUTH.
“Matthew 7:7. Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you fill find; knock and the door will be opened to you.”
And then, like I always do, I ask the kids, “So what does that mean for you and me?”
And Caden, with a mouthful of carrots says, “I think what that means is that we ask God for what we want and if He doesn’t answer like we want, we have to remember that He knows what we need.”
And before I could even swallow my bite and affirm his thoughts, he added, “Like for our new baby. We might think that we need a baby quick, but God might not think that we need that right now because He knows the best.”
CANNOT make this stuff up.
Immediately, tears welled in my eyes and spilled down my cheeks.
“You’re right, buddy. You are so very, very right.”
“Then why are you crying, Mommy?”
I answered honestly, and I kept it short.
“Buddy, I’m crying because that is EXACTLY what God has been teaching Mommy, and I’m crying because my heart feels REALLY thankful for the second reminder.”
I could have answered him a hundred different ways with a hundred different explanations, but I didn’t.
I didn’t tell him about all the thoughts that had been swirling in my soul since we left that Wednesday morning meeting, one week ago. I didn’t.
I didn’t tell him that I had a whole bundle of fears as we left our social worker’s office and rode the elevator down. I didn’t.
I didn’t tell him that as I shook her kindly extended hand as we left that building, I felt anxious and scared. I didn’t.
I didn’t tell him about all the thoughts and all the feelings and ALL THE THINGS that bombarded my brain as we drove that 7 mile, 19 minute drive home. I didn’t.
I didn’t tell him that I was scared to death…
that we would spend 36 hours away from him and his sister, completing our training…
that we would invest hours of our evenings filling out 36 pages of open-ended questions about our life, our philosophies, and our values…
that we would add doors to the rooms upstairs and evacuation plans to our fridge…
that we would find, secure, copy, scan, and disclose a boatload of financial documents and personal records…
that we would make appointments with doctors, house inspectors, and firemen…
that we would rearrange our schedules, our home, and our lives…
for someone that may not be a FOREVER part of our home.
And THAT is the thing that scares my heart the most–the thing that tempts me to jump ship and bail the bus–the thing that threatened to stop us from even starting the process of Foster-to-Adopt in the first place.
And what is the THAT that has changed my prayers and challenged my soul?
It’s THAT scary THING of loving without knowing the ending.
It’s THAT scary THING of surrendering without being sure of the outcome.
It’s THAT scary THING of believing that God has an eternal plan for allowing us to love a soul for however short or long.
It’s THAT scary THING of accepting that NOTHING is ever, EVER wasted when we surrender our wills and follow His leading.
It’s THAT scary THING of asking, seeking, knocking and then trusting that He holds the VERY BEST answer.