At the beginning of our adoption journey, Adam and I prayed a lot. We knew that China was only a special needs program and we had to pray and consider what special needs we felt capable of parenting. It was really hard. As we checked our “No’s,” I knew that other people would check the same no’s and my heart hurt so bad. But I thought I was just being honest with my limitations. I know myself, and I know my heart, and I know that grief and pain crack me wide open. I thought I was being honest about what kind of child I could be the best mother to. We were open to mild to moderate needs, either completely repairable, or those needing ongoing treatment. When we read our son’s file, he was a perfect match for us. We prayed about it, A LOT, and knew God wanted us to say yes to being his family. And then, we brought him home, head over heels for our fast and furious little boy, and my world and heart were shattered. Because God put me in a role that I never would have put myself in. God threw me right in the middle of a situation that I normally would have run fast and far from. And I didn’t know if I could bear it. The crazy thing? If I knew everything I know now, I would say YES a million times over to Isaiah. I would run for him, with wide open arms and a terrified heart. And most days, I rest on that. But tonight, I’m scared. Scared of what the future holds. Scared I won’t be the mom he needs me to be. Scared that God put me on a path that my heart can’t handle. But you know what?

It doesn’t matter what kind of a mom I think I am or who I think I was created to be; God knit me together and knows me more deeply than I could ever know myself. And for some reason, this is the path He put me on. I don’t understand it and it’s so full of unknowns. I’m terrified. But I’m desperately clinging to His promises and my knowledge that He is steadfast and faithful. There are times, like tonight, when MY faith wavers, but I continue to put my hope in HIS faithfulness, not mine. And cry out to Him, tired and full of sorrow and fear, and ask Him to redeem this broken faith, this broken heart, in this moment. And ask Him to hold our sweet boy with strong arms when I falter. And ask Him for the grace to walk this path He’s put me on in the way that He wants me to. Tonight, all I have is a broken, weary hallelujah, but sing it I will. I will sing His praises even when my arms fall and my tears overflow. Even when my voice cracks and I can’t quite finish. And I will rest in His faithfulness and trust that He holds us so mightily in the moments that we can’t hold on anymore.