When to Care

His name is Jonathon.  He is a beautiful little man with the most amazing expression.  He is 6, but he isn't speaking, yet.  I found his picture on one of the websites and I fell in love.  Instantly.  I have yet to figure out why God has placed in my heart this little man, but he is there in every beat.

I talked about him.  Prayed about him.  Tried to inquire about him. 

The excuses flood. 

What if I can't do it all.  I am tired.  We still have J.

What about when he gets older. 

I say:  What I am really worried about is that some day we will die.  He says:  That will happen either way.  We will die.  He will live.  We can care for him in the mean time, if that is what we are supposed to do.

The truth:  What I am really concerned about is that I will care.  I will not be able to care for him one day and I will CARE.  That demonstrates the belief that if I don't look into his adoption, if I don't take him as my OWN child, that I won't care.

But, isn't that the our nature?  We care the most about the people closest to us.  We care about our parents, our siblings, our spouse and our children.  But we can see page after page of orphans, the homeless, the hurting and not really give it much more than a moments notice.  And we are NOT BAD PEOPLE.  We actually do care that people are hurting, but what can we do?  We are easily overwhelmed and easily distracted.  Why focus on those we "can't" help?  Why take time to let one of those people capture our hearts and our attention. 

My truth for today is that Jonathon is mine.  If I am able to bring him home or not, I take responsibility for caring about him.  If God can care about each hair on my head, I can care about one more little person.  This verse reminds me of my value and Jonathon's.

Are not two sparrows sold for a penny?  Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father's care.  And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered.  So don't be afraid; you are worth more than sparrows.  Matthew 10: 29-31

The Wait

Tickling mud squishes through mesh of my tennies. Hands stained black from the dirt.  The smell of insecticide, herbicide, and mulch hang on every part of me.  I stand back and see and it is good.  I am excited to see the sprouting landscape and I remember that Jesus often used parables that referred to farming - I understand.  There is something magical about creating beauty from nothing or bringing imagination to life.  It has to be carefully planned, prepared, and tended.  Then comes the wait.  It seems like a life time before maturity happens and a wonder is revealed. 

The most amazing part of today was that I had help with the kids and the housework.  My friend came to play with the kids while I worked in the yard.  She made a yummy banana bread and the smell pushed it's way through the door far before it was done cooking.  I peeked in and she kicked me out.  I stuck in the test stick and it came back sticky, mocking my impatience.  Just like the yard, it wasn't done.  It wasn't ready.

God and I have been chatting a lot lately about changes and difficulties I see my kids face.  I give advice, wait, and hope to see change.  But sometimes, there is nothing.  No change.  I go back, give advice, and wait...but still, nothing.  I go to God asking for help.  He asks me to wait.  Recently, I have been crying out to Him.  PLEASE help these changes come about!  And he showed me an example of times that I need to wait.  And, just like He often does with me, after giving me that message, He gives me an example.  Just like I have to wait to see that landscape grow, I need to wait to eat that bread, I also need to wait to see that change.  He didn't promise that the change will come, He didn't promise that things will turn out the way I hope, but He did show me that change takes time.  It might even go through some ugly phases. 

I wouldn't go to my sprouting plant and become angry that it isn't producing fruit or shade, I also shouldn't go to my child and be angry that she isn't mature. I wouldn't yell at that loaf of bread for not being ready, I also shouldn't yell at my child for not being mature.  It would be ridiculous to rip out that seedling and throw it away.  I would lose any possibility of fruit and I would lose the ability to at least have the seed.  It would also be ridiculous to take that dough out of the oven and throw it into the garbage can because it wasn't ready.  I would lose the possibility of baked bread and the ingredients that went into the bread.  So many people are quick to throw other people away.  What loss would you face?  What potential loss?