Good Friday

"I think we are supposed to adopt from China"

Those words hit me like a ton of bricks on Good Friday 10 years ago. It's not that I didn't want to adopt - I did. Desperately. 

He didn't. 

At all. (and I mean - the kind of "no" that a wife receives that doesn't mean "let the negotiation begin", but the kind of "no" that means "hell no - don't bring it up again" no)

But at a breakfast memorializing the climb up to the cross that Jesus took for us - God spoke to my husband in a big and profound and clear way - so I got a phone call I never expected.

10 years ago on Good Friday. 

So fitting. 

When I look back on that day, I never would have imagined what God would do in our lives through those 9 words. 

10 years and 4 daughters later, I am intimately acquainted with a small sliver of the brokenness that Jesus climbed up onto the cross to heal. I deeply understand the break that happened in the garden of Eden that separated us from God and God's plan. The sin that manifests through the lives of children. I live with it every single day - 

in my heart. 

With each new child, God revealed to me just how desperately I needed Jesus' sacrifice. How broken I was and how utterly unable I am to heal myself. How wide the gulf is between God and myself. How every drop of blood shed covers me. 

It's a point driven home on Good Friday. 

Fitting that is the day the journey truly began. 

Sunday's coming......