Aren't new parents hard to be around? We think that the whole world ought to drop everything and join into our private celebrations.
So...have you dropped everything yet? I've got some more celebration for you.
First you have to know a little bit about the bad in order to appreciate the wonder of the good. I've lost track of the adoption leads we have pursued that have fizzled out. The aggregation of those can eventually discourage you a little bit. But the most painful experience in the adoption world is what adoption experts have termed the "adoption loss." An adoption loss comes when you get all the way down to the end of the adoption process and it flies apart at the last minute. An adoption loss often involves having taken custody of a baby, only to have to give it back. Adoption loss is like a death. It is a brutal ordeal.
We have done that twice.
Now that will knock the wind out of you.
But on the other hand, we already have one adopted son, Jim. We had gone for a weekend at SWBTS's conference center. Tracy was attending a ministers' wives event; I was buried in books, working on seminar papers. On our return voyage to Farmersville, Tracy and I met our friends Keith and Melissa Sanders (at that time not yet married) to watch Gods and Generals at the Grapevine Mills movie theater. We finally got home, where we found a string of messages on our answering machine. At the opening syllables of the very first message, our heartbeats stopped.
A doctor in Arkansas had received one of our fliers. A baby was about to be born in need of an adoptive family. The call was more than a day old. The ensuing messages reiterated the proposal and wondered why we hadn't returned the call. They wanted to give us the first chance at adopting this baby, and didn't want to move on down the list until they heard from us. We were terrified that we had waited too long. That was on Saturday.
We immediately called the provided numbers, got in touch with the doctor, and started to make arrangements. On Wednesday, Jim was born and we started the process of adopting him. Now he's three years old and wonderful.
Entire elapsed time from our first knowledge of Jim until we were holding him—less than four days.
Fast forward to last week...our journey home from Greensboro. On the way home we stopped to spend the night with Dr. Joe Early, a friend who lives in Corbin, KY. Sitting on his back deck and looking into the forest, we discussed the convention (Joe and I have strikingly different perspectives upon convention politics), lots of boring Baptist History stuff, and the other things that very good friends explore. At one point the conversation turned to our prospects for adopting another baby. Joe asked how that was going.
I told Joe, "Well, we haven't really gotten any good leads lately. Not even that many nibbles. Sometimes we can get a little discsouraged. We need to do something to stir the pot a little and generate some more inquiries. But whenever we get down in the mouth, we always think about our experience with Jim. That happened so quickly. We always remind ourselves that we could be a week away from having a baby, but just not know it yet."
That conversation took place Thursday night. Exactly one week later, Sarah was born. Now we've cleared enough hurdles to be really confident that this adoption is going to go through.
Now I'm Going to Preach a LittleYou never know what God is doing right now for you that you just don't know about yet. He is indeed faithful. He really does work all things together for good for those who love him and are called according to his purpose.
OK. You have permission to resume your life now. Thanks for listening.