It's not easy...

My house is quiet and I am alone. My husband has taken the children camping and I will join them tomorrow. In the meantime, I have time for quiet reflection. It's so wonderful, I can hardly stand it!

So we're adopting a child with special needs. What that looks like from this end alternates between feeling incredibly blessed to partner with God in the ransoming of a child and feeling like we're the biggest dopes on the planet to take on something so huge with so little earthly gain. Which side I land on is directly proportionate to how much time I've spent with God.

I admit to being a bit jealous when my co-worker waxed on about finally deciding on a 14-day trip to Hawaii (7 days on ship, and 7-days on land, in case you were wondering) for her 20th wedding anniversary. I sat there thinking, "Our 20th is next year. We'll have 2 small children with special needs and 6 others with regular needs. Maybe we'll get to go out to dinner." Another friend is excited about building her dream home on a wooded lot. I start to turn slightly green. When joking with another colleague, mother of one, about leaving one place of mayhem (work) for another (home), I'm brought up short when she remarks, "Actually, home is usually pretty calm." Really? What must that be like?

Wow. I'm not proud of my reactions. I'm not proud that I continue to weigh such things as we move forward. I'm not proud that I question our choices, and the ones that we've already made, so easily.

The truth is, I would gladly choose Hawaii over an Eastern European country for our travel plans. I would love to move to a big house with a wooded lot, over staying here and stacking children. I think it would be heavenly to come home to a quiet house that stays clean every day.

It's times like these, that I am so thankful that I can confess my awful thoughts to God. I'm thankful that He gently reminds me that His ways are good, that His timing is perfect, and that there is a reward beyond Hawaii trips and big houses. He shows me that the here and now is just a blip in light of eternity.

My confession turns to praise and gratitude and I'm reminded of all the wonderful in the here and now. Would I notice the moments of quiet, if I were surrounded by it all the time? Would I be so giddy that my house is, indeed, clean right now if it were effortless to make it that way? Would I enjoy my home empty if I were powerless to fill it with children?

I think not. See, for all my grousing, I am incredibly blessed to have this life that's filled with children. I am excited to meet the one, born to another, but mine none the less, in the coming months! I am grateful that I have a husband who adores his wife and delights in his children. And I am thankful for the quiet moments, especially in their rarity.

Following Christ is a gift beyond compare. It's not easy, but one thing I know to be true is that easier is seldom better.