Storms At the Beach

We won't move through this adoption process perfectly. But I hope we will at least be able to move through it honestly.

For a decade, we have considered adoption. Over and again, different rising fears have pushed me away. This time, I'm committed to staring those fears in the eyes, calling them what they are, and seeing what falls away and what remains.

For years, I was frightened of disease. The thought of bringing new bodies into our home/community that might have been exposed to hepatitis, HIV, etc., was a strong fear that lurked in the back of my mind. If Bobby and I had not had kids, or if we could live a life of exclusion, that might not be quite as much of an issue. However, we live (and plan to continue to live) in the context of a community with other children. I knew that I could not risk putting all those others in danger.

Several months ago, however, I finally named that fear and faced it. I did some research, and I was shocked to learn about all the testing and regulating that happens during a Chinese adoption. I felt pretty foolish for letting my fearful ignorance control me so long -- for not having the courage to look into the facts sooner.

Last night, another obstacle surfaced. Vacation is ending, so we sat down on the little condo porch to talk about the upcoming year. Tuition is going up significantly at the kids' school. Clara needs braces. I'm having trouble finding a part time job that will let me do occasional field trips and pick up kids after school. I could feel that old wave of fear starting to choke me. I got frustrated. There was a rising temptation to retreat... to not look the monster in the eyes.

As we were talking, a huge storm rolled across the sky. It was one of those storms where the lightning is shooting back and forth in the clouds every two or three seconds. It was like fireworks, only brighter. Remarkable flashes of color and light. JD saw it smack the building next to us.

My skin was crawling with electricity, and I felt a strange sensation. It was anger. I was angry at the fear. Angry at what fear keeps me from trying.

How many kids around the world need help because fear sends people like me back into our rooms of safety? We go to rooms where we can manage smaller storms and block out the dangers other nameless faces must weather alone?

God, protect us from the temptation of convenience. Help us stare it down this time, and make it run from the room with its ugly tail tucked between its legs.