I just finished bouncing up and down on our yoga ball to put Sage to sleep while staring out the window to watch Husband put together our double-stroller-jogger. My mind is always running a million and one miles an hour but also somehow 1 mile per hour at the exact same time. It is set to high-speed processing emotions and thoughts and life all the while, too often, extremely slow to responding to people and tasks right in front of me. Example: the large pile of laundry covering up what was our couch.
There are so many emotions all of the time. I often feel like a walking-breathing-emotion.
The last six months have been nothing short of BIG. Big life-altering things have occurred. Things like complete career/identity shifts along with loss and deep wounds; moving to a new and much bigger city; the "stork drop" adoption of our first-born son, Sage; becoming a transracial adoptive family; Loren just applied to grad school; and the preparation of adding a second-born son to our family very soon.
People are always asking us what we are going to do, how are we going to do it, saying how busy and full our hands are. I usually smile and say with a factual-yet-asking tone, "but aren't all parents busy?" or "what are you implying I do, rid of one of my sons?" or "yes, but my heart is much fuller." The other statement and bold assumption people make are, "that pregnancy must have been a surprise then?" And I ask, "are not all pregnancies a surprise? We have always wanted both babies, both ways to grow our family."
Loren's currently pumping up the jogger tires. My belly has been doing this cool thing of braxton hicks contractions all day. Today we shared an iced chai and talked about names and didn't joke the whole time. Sage is the cutest thing I have ever known while he sleeps next to me in his moses basket, binky drooping out of his perfectly shaped lips.
Our savings account was emptied a few months ago to bring home our son. Loren started a new job less than 6 months ago and therefore has $0 in vacation and about $20 in sick pay. We hope and plan for him to take at least one week off when Little Brother arrives, but ideally two. We have reason to panic, but I keep reminding us: what good will panicking do? We have a little here and a little there and we will make it work, because that is what we do.
And when people ask the annoying (but honest?) question, "What are you going to do?" (I feel like asking, what did you do when you had babies? You loved them and took it one day at a time.)
Honestly, we don't know what we are doing. We don't have wild plans and structures and strict routines. We are just doing what we have been doing our whole marriage: taking life as an adventure, one day at a time, do what feels right in our gut and ask Jesus for help. Trusting that He is so much bigger than us. Whenever the fear of finances or the fear of sleeplessness creeps up and spills out, we remind each other: we have come this far, we have always eaten feasts and always paid the bills, we have miracle boys, and we have never gone without. We have nice things that more people than we could count have gifted us - we didn't even have to purchase a car seat, jogger, crib, bassinet... the provision is unreal and why would we assume it would suddenly stop? Why would we fear that He would forget us now, after how far He has brought us?
These lyrics in the song No Longer Slaves makes me cry every time: You split the sea, so I could walk right through it. All my fears were drowned in perfect love. He has split the seas in more ways than one for us in the last year and my fears...when I remember the seas being split and continuing to be split, my fears are completely drowned in His perfect love. And it is so freeing.
I keep thinking of our boys anytime there are reasons to worry or fear or be anxiety-driven. I keep thinking how I so desire them to live a life without abandon, for Jesus, knowing to their core that He is trustworthy. My prayer and hope is that they would grow knowing without a doubt that they are deeply loved and wildly free, adored by us and given value because of Jesus. When life throws Crazy at us, I hope we can model an unwavering trust in our Jesus, rather than a fear of the crazy. I am convinced that if Loren and I truly trust Him even when the adventure is hard, unique, different, or impossible - even when it demands for courage and flexibility - we will raise brave boys who will live brave lives, no matter what Crazy life tosses their way. We will raise disciples of Jesus who are not bound by fear. Oh Lord, let it be so.
Yes, we will be busy. But so is everyone else.
Yes our arms will be full, but our hearts are even fuller. Sometimes I feel like my heart may burst due to immense love and gratitude for Loren and the adventure we are on.
Yes, we will be tired. Who isn't?
Yes, both boys are ours, equally. And loved entirely.
No, we don't know what we are doing and we are okay with that. We are taking life as an adventure. Besides...the more ridiculously specific expectations we have, the more likely we will fall apart when they crash and burn. At least, that is how I am.
No, I am not drowning in fear and anxiety, because Jesus is big. Sure, I get nervous about not giving each son enough individual attention, about how in the world I will ever do laundry or dishes or how I will grocery shop... but God is so big and so good and He is the best Father and He reminds me not to worry. He will meet our babes where we cannot and even more.
And when I do become consumed or when my heart drips with fear...He will remind me that He split the seas so I could walk right through them. And my fears will drown in His perfect love.