Look at that little thermometer over there — I am so happy to share that we are finally fully funded, ready to go to Uganda and get our girl!
(NOW, if we can just get a court date. Wouldn’t that be nice?)
Before I tell you what happened, I want to eliminate any confusion — we are still finishing up our current fundraising projects. The food box fundraiser will continue monthly through the end of the year, and we’re having another silent auction to hopefully sell the remaining items that were donated to us for that purpose.
The reason I can confidently say that we are fully funded is that a sweet, generous couple has offered to make up the difference left after we finish earning what we can through fundraising. Part of that will be a gift, any remainder will be a small loan with incredibly gracious repayment terms. It’s a direct answer to our prayers.
I see this couple as our Aaron and Hur, coming in at the end, holding us up so we can complete what God has led us to do.
You might not know that Donnie was furloughed during this recent government shutdown/slowdown/slimdown — whatever the bureaucrats want to call it. Thank goodness that is finally over and he is returning to work as I type. But the past three weeks have been hard, wondering how long it would last and how we could wrap up saving what we needed without his salary. I prayed myself to sleep every night, very basic, very needy prayers…
“God, I don’t know what we’re going to do. We can’t do this without you. I don’t know how you’re going to work it out, but I know you didn’t bring us this far to disappoint our daughter. I know you’re going to make something good of this. Please work it out. Please show us what to do…”
James 4:2 kept coming to mind: “…you have not because you ask not.”
“What more can I ask for, God? People have already helped us so much. I’m embarrassed to ask for anything else. I’m embarrassed to admit how desperate I feel or how much we’re struggling with this. I know there are people who think we are fools for adopting, who don’t understand the motive in our hearts. But I know what you’ve promised, what you’ve asked. I know this is of you. Show me that you still believe in this, please…”
Ask. Seek. Knock.
By last Thursday night, I’d just had enough. I was so choked by my own misery that I didn’t care anymore about pride, I didn’t care if I was embarrassed. I didn’t care if sharing our truth opened a whole new can of doubt for the naysayers to run with and throw back at me. I knew we had not yet asked, sought or knocked enough; there were several stones left unturned, and I wasn’t going to leave them that way. I couldn’t.
So, I wrote a letter, outlining what we still needed — both financially, and in prayer support. I basically just put heart to paper and let it bleed.
And then…our nearest-and-dearest responded, so kindly it made us cry. By Friday afternoon, my eyes were so puffy, I could’ve passed for this guy, smiles and all:
I was almost shocked by how exhausted I felt. Donnie said the same thing.
I didn’t realize the weight of this burden until it was lifted off us. It felt like when your 40-lb. toddler falls asleep at the amusement park and you have to carry him for hours. You’re just absolutely spent when you finally put him down.
On Sunday, we were invited to share our testimony at church, and we did. And then the pastor took up a special offering for us. Just…WOW, God. Wow.
I hope those who are standing with us realize the magnitude of what they’ve given: the gift of being able to let that tension go….
Adoption is so stressful. It just is. It’s like so many life experiences, you think you’re ready for it, but you just can’t understand how hard it is until you’re in the middle of it. Every adoptive family needs Aarons and Hurs. I’m so very grateful for those who get it. Who really GET what the bible says about caring for orphans and widows and joyously give accordingly. They are like GOLD to us. More precious than that, even.