There are no coincidences with God.

It may look like just a refrigerator, but in reality it is so much more. It will stand in my kitchen as a tribute to a God Who cares about the details.

You may know that our [not so] old refrigerator just up and died on Tuesday. Tuesday was not a good day for a refrigerator death, but appliances (like children), don't check schedules before making decisions.

Not excited about making such an expensive decision without my husband, who had important work commitments, I called my mom, and she prayed with me that I would just know when the purchase was right. So, Wednesday I spent the morning looking for a new refrigerator. 

 

Apparently, during a refrigerator shortage. 

 

Because of COVID.

 

On the day that I was supposed to be planning my first-of-the-year six-hour seminar for Thursday. 

 

Needless to say, not much luck. I found one or two that might work, but the waiting time of up to 4 weeks was a big deterrent. That’s a lot of expensive takeout. J

 

After a disappointing morning, I set out again in the afternoon for an unrelated appointment that was already on my calendar. Upon attempting to check in, I was informed that there was a mistake and that we would have to reschedule. Close to tears [I had been looking forward to this appointment for weeks], I heard Holy Spirit reminding me that He orders my steps. All of them. Even the inconvenient ones. (Psalm 37:23-24)

 

There are no mistakes with God.

 

Figuring that Peter had already taken off from work to watch the children, I decided to make one last stop at what I call the Scratch-N-Dent not far from where I was. I went into the storeroom and found nothing of interest. Happening upon a refrigerator that I didn't much like but that would do in a pinch (it was missing a handle, but at 50% off, I could order another handle and still save money), I took a few pictures to take home and show Peter. As I was readying to leave, the sky opened up with a torrential downpour. The salesman had just finished telling me that there were a few refrigerators on the truck being unloaded, so I could wait a few more minutes to see if something struck me. I opted to stay dry.

Then, they wheeled an enormous refrigerator by me, and a little voice inside said, "that's your refrigerator." (remember mom's prayer?) I took one look and said, "nonsense." It was stainless steel (I wanted black), and it had a computer screen on it. No way. Not for me. 

But...

Out of sheer curiosity, I asked the assistant manager for the price, while also mentioning with great clarity that there was no way I intended to purchase such frivolity. She replied with a number $300 less than the aforementioned one that would do in a pinch. 

Today, this refrigerator stands in my kitchen (delivered just three days after the other one died). It has a few small dings (don't we all?), but a well-placed magnet can take care of that. You may say, that it is just a refrigerator. Yes, it is. But, it has some pretty neat features that remind me that God loves to bless us. The computer screen speaks my husband's language. If he weren't married to me, there might be computer screens throughout the house. I love that he can have something he enjoys. Oh, and I discovered that Pavarotti can sing to me through the speakers. What a special time I had reminiscing about my Nonna, who listened to him regularly with tears streaming down her precious face. Most importantly, I saved 50% off the retail price, and it was cheaper than all the other basic models I saw at other stores. 

The other night as I was rocking my little guy to sleep, my heart suddenly began to ache for his mama and all the precious moments she sacrificed because her love for him was so deep. 

And then it struck me. 

• From the moment we committed to adopting our first, it was roughly a 9 month journey.

• We applied for a home study for our four oldest exactly one week before their agency petitioned the court for permanent custody.

• Nine months before our last baby's due date, Holy Spirit led us to switch to the agency that led us to our son.

These timelines are not coincidence. Neither was my refrigerator breaking or my appointment cancellation. 

If you are in the midst of grief, pain, or uncertainty, God knows. It's tempting to think that if God cared, suffering wouldn't exist. Perhaps you wouldn't have been abused or wronged in some way. Maybe your unborn child or younger sibling would still be alive or your rights would not have been violated in some way or another. It's easy for me to fall prey to the thought that my children might not have had to suffer. 

But, that misses the larger point. 

Suffering exists because of sin. Yet, even in the midst of that sin, God is already there preparing a solution. He planted the tree that Zaccheaus needed many decades before he needed to climb it to see Jesus. And, He is already planning how to meet your need and my need. Even my need for a refrigerator (during a shortage...because of COVID...).

Nothing takes Him by surprise. 

So, if you come visit me, you may be impressed with the app that shows you what is inside of my refrigerator or the messages that I can write on the electronic whiteboard from miles away. I may even let you peruse my Pandora stations displayed on the front. But none of those things are nearly as exciting as knowing that the God of the universe not only knows how many eggs are on my top shelf, but he knows how many hairs are on my head, and that both of those numbers matters to Him.

Seeing the Unseen

Every single second is a moment in time that passes. And it seems like nothing - but when you're looking back... well, it amounts to everything.

~Ray Bradbury (American Author)

Roughly 25 years ago, I first saw his face. I don't remember the date, but I remember the moment. I can recall where I was standing and who was with me. I remember my father telling me a story about a baby he had seen in the emergency room. As I listened, a little brown boy with a round face and dark curly hair began to take shape in my heart. I was young and didn't completely understand what I saw, but I knew it was important, so, I tucked those thoughts deep in my heart for another day. Years would go by, and I would think of this little brown boy with a round face and dark curly hair on occasion. I shared him with few people. Peter was one of them. 

Life is a journey, not a destination.
~Ralph Waldo Emerson

I've always loved the story of Abraham and Sarah. God made them a promise; they waited; God fulfilled His promise. It always seemed like a simple story with a happy ending. Sure, I knew there must have been some struggle over the years, but since Scripture tells the story in roughly four chapters, it was hard for me to imagine how long 25 or so years felt in real time.  

Give me six hours to chop down a tree, 
and I will spend the first four sharpening the axe."
~Abraham Lincoln

When I was in my teens, I remember sitting down for my devotional time and simply asking God where in His Word I should turn. Without fail, He always led me to the book of Hebrews. In fact, it happened so often that I thought I was simply imagining it. Regardless, I would faithfully turn and read, not always understanding but simply wanting to obey. As time went on, I grew to love the verses in that book, and they, in turn, took root into my heart. Little did I understand that by reading those verses, I was sharpening my axe. God always sees the end from the beginning, and we can trust Him to plant what we will need far in advance of our needing it.

Waiting on God requires the willingness to bear uncertainty, to carry within oneself the unanswered question, lifting the heart to God about it whenever it intrudes upon one's thoughts.
~Elizabeth Elliot

In the spring of 2016, I knew it was time. So, Peter and I did what we'd become good at doing--we called yet another adoption agency and began yet another round of fingerprinting, background checks, interviews, home visits, and parenting assignments. By this time, we'd figured out how to streamline the process, so we were good to go. Except for the fact that we already had five kids and that put us at a disadvantage. Many birth moms like to give the gift of parenthood to couples without children. The odds were not in our favor. Yet, we applied to an agency in a neighboring state and completed our profile. Then, we waited.

And waited.

Waiting doesn't seem so hard when it only takes up a few chapters in a book. In real life, it's harder than in the movies.

After about a year the time to renew our home study was approaching. Our agency sent out a letter that they had had zero placements in the past year. This was a first in their 20+ year history. But God knew. So, we prayerfully contacted another agency over 600 miles away and were accepted, despite the fact that they only accept out of state families on a limited basis.

Not long after, we began reading the book of Hebrews at church. Nothing escapes God. He is a God Whose signature is in the details. With our church family, we began studying the words that had become so very dear to me, and I was again reminded of Abraham's faith being counted as righteousness. 

Just like physical birth pangs come more regularly as the moment of 

birth draws near, so did the intensity of the yearning of my heart increase as my little boy's arrival approached.

In the Fall of 2017, I went to WalMart and purchased what we would need to have a little boy in our home. There I was, on a whim, desperately wanting to be like Abraham, without a baby on the horizon, but with five children, ages 11 and under, buying bottles, blue newborn outfits, and a beautiful blanket that I didn't need, but I wanted my son to have. When I got home, I called Peter at work and told him how much I spent for our promised son (I may have also reminded him that Noah built an ark before he saw any rain)...He said what he always says: "ok." Then he came home and set up the crib in our room.

Love bears all things, believes all things, 

hopes all things, endures all things.

~I Corinthians 13:7

By the time another 8 months had gone by, I knew we were approaching the time for us think about renewing our homestudy. I was done. The majority of our marriage had already been spent with the intrusion of social workers. I was tired explaining my budget; I was tired of discussing my parenting techniques; I was tired of outlining the delegation of responsibilities in our home and how my upbringing affected my relationships. I was tired of being emotionally invested in expecting. I yearned for normal (whatever that is).

And, that's exactly what I told God. On April 12, 2018. In a prayer meeting at my parents' church. I said I was done. (Unless, of course, He insisted strongly and clearly that I wasn't.)

Then [God] said, "Go out, and stand on the mountain before the LORD." 
And behold, the LORD passed by, and a great and strong wind tore into the mountains and broke the rocks in pieces before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire; and after the fire a still small voice.
~I Kings 19:11-13

Years of listening had attuned me to that voice. The same one that Elijah heard. And Moses, and Miriam, and Noah, and Mary. I heard it that night in a little church in Pennsauken, NJ. It said "wait." One month. God asked me to wait until May.

A month later, at that very same church while dropping off my kids for an activity, I answered a call from our agency. A little boy had been born on May 5 and needed a home. His mamma chose us. Why? Because we had a big family.

There are so many more little miracles in Baby G's story, from the way that his mom even found our agency to the two other little boys needing families that crossed our paths before our little boy did to the timing of my shopping spree nearly nine months before his due date. But there are no coincidences with God.

Sometimes I will get a look at my son's face, and I'll pause because my little brown boy with a round face and dark curly hair has been familiar to me for nearly 25 years. Most days, I'm too busy to notice. But every now and again he'll smile or stand still just long enough...and I see it.

When I first walked into the room where I would meet Baby G, I was surprised at my lack of excitement. Even as we brought him back to the hotel and began the adjustment that a new baby requires (including hanging with seven other people and two dogs in a hotel), I expected to be ecstatic at the fulfillment of a promise made to me decades before. But, I wasn't. It was just another normal day filled with relatively normal emotions.

It was then that my husband spoke to me perhaps the most amazing words of life and wisdom. Words that unraveled for me what our Lord talks about in the same book of Hebrews that I had read for years. Peter told me that I wasn't experiencing any kind of overwhelming excitement because what was happening to our family was not news to me. It had been real to me for 20+ years. I had already seen the unseen. I had the experienced the evidence. 

Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, 

the evidence of things not seen.
~Hebrews 11:1