I knew it was coming. I was given three days to prepare for my life, my comfortable, predictable family life, to be turned completely upside down. It wasn't the first time. I am almost certain it will not be the last.
You may be wondering what on Earth He did?
Three years ago today, God brought three very broken children to my doorstep, children I knew only by a photo, children that I would one day soon call my own.
I couldn't sleep the night before. I couldn't sit still the morning of their arrival. I knew they would come with their belongings piled carelessly into trash bags. I knew they would come with their very hearts torn to shreds, having just been ripped from everything they had ever known to be inserted awkwardly into the home and lives of complete strangers that they would now have to trust completely.
Nothing could have truly prepared any of us for what took place three years ago today.
As this "anniversary" day approached again this year, I realized something. I have never blogged the fullness of our adoption story. Many of my closest friends know but mere snippets of the adoption journey we have walked.
Maybe I didn't know where to start.
Maybe I didn't know how to tell our adoption story without telling the parts that are only for my children to tell.
Maybe I didn't know how to process the rawness of it all.
Truth be told, it doesn't matter why I haven't told it up until this point.
I'm ready to tell it now. I need to tell it now. I'm compelled and convicted that I must begin to tell it now.
It might take some time...so please be patient...but it's coming.
It wasn't the first time God wrecked my life.
It won't be the last time God wrecks my life.
But He wrecks things so that He might rebuild them into what He wants them to be.
My adoption journey is one such wreck in the process of becoming not me.
