So I’m sitting at the table at church, next to Sloan, my husband, stirring up my watery porridge and feeling bad that I’m also drinking a hot cocoa which I’m certain orphans don’t get, when during the panel discussion Sloan leans over and says, “Hey, what do you think about adopting a special needs kid from China?” In my mind, I thought, really? Really? All this time Sloan has talked about how he had talked to Jesus and that we were done and I got on board with that. And unlike before Gracie, my daughter, I don’t have this ache for another kid. We’re done. Instead I just said, “Shhhh…Cindy is talking.” And then minutes later I whispered back to him, “What are you talking about? Are you for real?” He nodded that yes, he was for real.
I rolled my eyes. Because that’s what faithful Christians do when their husbands say crazy things like “Hey, let’s adopt internationally” on a random Sunday morning like it was a suggestion for a new place to eat lunch. How about Ruby Tuesdays? How about a Chinese kid?
So after the service, you know, right after I’d heard all these people talk about how God had blessed them overwhelmingly through their adoptions, right after I’d heard a teenage girl talk about how the sacrifices she had to make to bring home her two Ethiopian little brothers were nothing in comparison to how she has seen God work in her life, right after I’d stood up and talked about how most corporations have adoption subsidies and the $13,000 government adoption tax credit, I was still laughing at how ridiculous Sloan was. Ha, ha. Chinese baby.
So I went to my sister and told her how funny Sloan was. She didn’t laugh. She told me to prayerfully consider what my husband said, seeing as how God had obviously done a 180 in his heart. Meanwhile, Sloan was talking to a woman who brought her daughter home from China about 18 months ago.
Fast forward to lunch. On the way to our usual Sunday spot, Casa Grande, Sloan and I talked about the possibility of adoption. I felt like we had a girl and a boy and that we were done. That I didn’t have the urge like before Gracie. I wasn’t yearning for another child. That I wanted to replace the rotting siding on our house and get some landscaping instead of just a mudpit for a backyard. But that I also couldn’t honestly say I was opposed to the idea. And still Sloan said, “Please pray about it. I’m confident this is what God has for us. We can wait until you’re off the Bethany board.” To which I said, “Well, if we are doing it, we are doing it now. International adoptions can take forever, so I wouldn’t want to put it off any longer. So I could defer my position on the board while we went through the process and then once our child was home, I could rejoin the board. But I just honestly don’t know what to say. Most days I can’t even take care of the two we have. Hello? Did you read my blog post the other day? We never have milk. I’m not saying no, but I can’t make this decision today. I feel a bit blindsided by this.” So we decided to both continue praying about it and then revisit the conversation at the end of the month when we went out on a date for my birthday.
And then, out of the blue, or possibly because he overheard us talking, Henry my son said, “We need 4.” “Four what?” I asked. “Four kids. You know, another brother and sister. I want to get bunk beds and share a room with a brother who doesn’t have a Mommy and Daddy.”
I looked at Sloan. “Did you do this?” He smirked and assured me that no, he did not prompt Henry to tell me he needed more siblings. Again I said, “Give me until the end of the month. Can you do that?”
But then something odd happened. Sloan took Henry to go to the bathroom and it was just Grace and me. I watched her as she dipped her chips in the salsa and then licked it off—never really eating the chips, and yet, requiring a new chip for each dip. There was a mountain of cast offs next to her that had piled up while her Daddy wasn’t there to eat them. And I saw that if I had stalled in my fears of the unknown the last time Sloan was prepared to jump off a cliff at God’s urging, I’d be missing out on her. And all the countless ways God has shown up in our lives because of that one tiny measure of obedience. I thought about how we initially only wanted to show our profile to white birthmothers and how God kept pursuing my fearful heart. Wouldn’t it just be easier if I just heeded His call the first time? Isn’t first time obedience what I keep having meetings on the steps with Henry about? Do I really have the energy to keep running from God when it is so clear what He has for us? And then I thought about how special needs orphan means everything from eczema to spina bifida to birthmarks to clef pallets to being born addicted to drugs. That special needs in China was not the same thing as special needs in the US. And that I'd never met a parent of a special needs kid who regretted loving their child.
Then, suddenly, I could vividly envision a little Asian boy with glasses running through my kitchen.
And an orphan with a face is hard to ignore.
As Sloan slid back into our booth, I said, “I’m on board. Let’s do this.”
“Are you sure?”
“No. Yes. Well, I’m scared. Mainly of losing sleep and what it’ll mean to add to this family and how I really did want some landscaping. I mean, we are done. But there is room. We can provide a family to an orphan. Of that I’m sure. And I’m sure of you. And I’m sure of God.”
“We’re really doing this aren’t we?” Sloan smiled.
“Yes, I guess we are.”
And then I grabbed my husband’s hand and jumped. Join us in prayer as we free fall into God’s next journey for our family.
By Elizabeth Phillips, group member, adoptive mom, and writer at Elizabethtown-blog.com.
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