Weston and I celebrated 6 years of marriage by spending a weekend away in San Antonio. The last time we discussed adoption we decided it best to table it until we had bought a house and moved in.
By the time of our anniversary we had done both (even if we’re not totally unpacked). We spent an evening discussing it and talking about our fears and the excitement of growing our family via adoption. We talked different types of adoption and landed on international.
So this week, I’ve started spreadsheets on spreadsheets. Adoption Agencies. Countries. Fundraising strategies, grants, loans.
In all this there’s so many choices. And so many questions. How do you choose a country? How do you choose an agency? What makes them uniquely different? This country isn’t a part of the Hague Convention but does adoptions all the time with good agencies, is it still a good idea? One child? Siblings? What level of special needs do we feel like we can handle?
All these decisions and questions to answer brought a sense of anxiety to me. What if we get it wrong? Is there a wrong and right choice? As we’ve been talking about it this week, Wes said we should start praying about all of it together. Sure, it fills both of our prayers often. It’s something I pray about while I pray with Fitz before naps and bed time. A simple way to bring our one year old in to this process.
But it feels like it’s boiling down to this: God is stirring in us a passion for a country. A peace for a specific agency. I wrote about this when we were talking about moving back to Tyler – how our pastor in Buda said only God can give you peace because it’s a fruit of the Spirit. I rest in that often when making decisions. And there’s really no wrong choice. Neither of us is going to be upset if we don’t go with adopting from the country of our first choice. In the end there’s all these children who need families, who need to know the love of Christ, the Gospel. And in that, I don’t think you can make a wrong choice.