When God Says Dream Bigger

As the dust of a fallen dream begins to settle and my heartache quells a bit, I find myself at a crossroad. I look to my left and to my right and there are options. One of the roads is easier than others. It’s paved and smooth. This road is lined with vibrant green grass that is meticulously groomed and there isn’t a stop sign in sight.

It’s open. Safe. Secure.

Boring?

Another road is dark. It’s a little gloomy and cloudy. I don’t really know what to expect on that road, but I think it’s backed up rather indefinitely with traffic. Bumper to bumper, no end in sight. Scary.

And there’s another road. It’s straight uphill and quite honestly, I don’t know what I’ll find when I get to the top. The road is gravel and full of potholes. There are stop lights hanging every few feet and it seems as though I may have to push my way to the top here and there.

But it could be exciting.

This is a metaphor…clearly. You knew that already, right?

Oh good.

The good news is, we have options. That is very good news. Option one is to take the safe road. Lee and I could easily chalk this adoption trial up as a failure. We could dust off our hands and turn to the left – the safe road. We could keep moving forward with our three beautiful, biological children. We could quit tucking extra funds aside and finally buy a smokin’ new minivan, that Mac laptop I’ve been coveting and maybe even take our children on a rockin’ vacation.

Safe. Secure.

Boring?

We could continue to wait this adoption thing out or better yet, we could switch to a new country. We could step forward on the next road – the dark and scary one that is currently stalled with the longest red light in the history of ever. But as I’ve found these last few weeks – being stuck in the dark is gloomy and sad.

I need something to look forward to.

This isn’t to say we’ve completely given up on adoption, but for right now we are taking a step back and waiting for direction. It’s coming – slowly – in little tiny puzzle pieces that I think will eventually fit together.

So we turn toward the hard road. This is where we are right now. We’re standing at the crossroad and we’re looking up, waiting for instructions on when and how to move forward.

I’ve spent the better part of the last month asking God why. Why did He bring us to this point?  Two weeks ago, I was an emotional mess. It was the lowest I have ever felt. I could hardly drag myself from my bed and when I did, I was immediately overcome with fatigue and sadness. In my distress and confusion, I cried out to God. I poured out my why as a drink offering, laying my burden of grief at the alter and begging for some sign that He still had a plan.

I opened my Bible and the pages fluttered and fell to Isaiah chapter 1.

Isaiah 1:17 says “Learn to do good; Seek justice, Reprove the ruthless, Defend the orphan, Plead for the widow.”

My initial reaction upon reading this verse was to throw my hands up in exasperation. “That’s what I’m trying to do!” I cried in frustration. But then I had to stop and sit still.

Remember when He told me to wait? How quick I am to forget such things.

And in the two weeks since I read that verse, He has provided sign after sign that He’s not done with us yet. I’m starting to get the feeling that God wants us to dream bigger. He wants us to defend the orphan, but this goes beyond simply adopting. (Hahaha! The phrase “simply adopting” made me laugh out loud. That’s an oxymoron…)

I don’t know what it is we’re supposed to do just yet. I’m waiting. Sometimes I wait patiently. Other times I tap my toe in impatient anticipation.

But this one thing I know without a doubt: We have never been called to live a life of fear and choosing the safe road benefits no one – not us, not our children and it certainly doesn’t help the orphans in distress. So we’re waiting and prying loose tightened fists so we can stand tall and move in freedom toward that which He has placed before us.

Will you pray with us, for both clarity and wisdom? And while we’re praying, can I pray for you? Is there something big and scary looming before you – a path that seems to be a little bit harder? How can I pray?