Acting Like It's Real

Rob here- up late, trying to bring our computer back to a shadow of what it was a few weeks ago (long unrelated story involving several reformats, 2 frustrated IT guys, and a lot of backed-up data finally being transferred back where it belongs now), and April is asleep on the hotel bed. We're out of town for a week so I can take a seminary class. It's late, and I'm trying to decide if I should just stay up until 4am and watch the play-by-play updates of the Steelers-Ravens game...

In the meantime, I'm meditating on a thought that occurred to me a few weeks ago. All of the paperwork that we can provide is now turned in. And hopefully it will be enough to satisfy the Ukrainian courts so that they will give us our little girl. As I was thinking about that, I realized how similar this adoption is to my faith. Not in the obvious, "we are adopted by God" sense- although that is true and very, very beautiful. I'm talking about something else.

She is my daughter. I know it in my heart. We pray for her, talk about her, plan for her, cry for her, and have even named her. But so far, all we have is a mountain of paperwork (a picture of which will go in her "baby book") and the promises of people we have to trust. My arms ache to hold her, and my imagination craves a real face to replace the ones I've fashioned for now. Some days (like some of the ones I've written about before) it's so hard to believe this will actually happen- that it's not just a fantasy, too good to be true. Other days, we get downright giddy making plans and talking about things to do with our little girl next year. Always moving towards the day when the faith will (hopefully) become sight.

Such is my life as a Christian. Some days, faith is easy. But many (most?) days, it's the feeling of, "this is too good to be true. it's got to be just a nice dream only true on paper." We push on because we believe that eventually the faith shall be sight. But until then we cling to faith while craving sight. I just act like it's real on the days when nothing makes it seem real.

Not a lesson I thought God was going to teach me through this. But then, he seldom goes with my lesson plans. Oh God, you and you sovereignty get me every time! Haste the day!