But

I wanted to write something beautiful the other day.
I wanted to inspire, encourage.

Instead, I attended a pity party. See, it was our twenty fifth
wedding anniversary. I had this grand idea of celebrating the
best way I know how. Apparently, however, I'm not as wise
as I pretend to be.


For years we've discussed adoption, sharing our family with
another child in need of love. I knew I loved this child
already. I dreamed of giving him a home. I think we all did.

Preparing to celebrate twenty five years of marriage brought
this longing to share our family closer to reality. Our three
eldest children are grown up and out on their own. Our
youngest, Thomas, is our only child at home now and the
time seemed perfect.

With lots of prayer, research, phone calls, and paperwork,
the journey began. We went to the orientation for classes a few
weeks ago. We were to start on May 7th, our anniversary.

I loved the idea of celebrating our anniversary with going to our
first class. Family is the best way I know to do anything.

-but-

Turns out I do not qualify to be a mother to an adopted child.

Not insufficient education. Not lack of experience. Not finances.
No excuse at all, just unqualified me.

The agency deemed me unfit to be a mother based on a psychiatric
diagnosis with which I was labeled before Thomas was even born.
Unfit. Seems I've heard that word before. Oh wait, that was in my
nightmares.

So, yeah. Sometimes insecurities get validated.

I needed another "but." Funny enough, there usually is at least one.
When I got done crying and beating myself up, I found the buts I
needed.

One of my favorites is my family. There's great strength in embracing
the mission I'm already on. Too often my efforts and hopes to do
more, or the obstacles and failures I encounter, make me lose sight
of the good and the needs that are right in front of me.

And you know what? I am not an unfit mother. I'm not perfect, of
course. But I am secure in knowing this is the mission I'm meant to
be on. Sure, I will keep trying to do more. Some things may work
out, some may not. But right now I'm thankful to be reminded that
not being perfect does not mean not being anything.

We have a lot to celebrate.

After twenty five years of marriage I can wholeheartedly say I love
and am thankful for my husband and the family that came with our
union.

No, it hasn't been perfect. But...

Because He Said So

I didn't see this coming.

I grew up Catholic. I was baptised when I was a baby.
My mom saw to that. She's so wonderful. She taught us
about Jesus, to pray, to believe in God's awesome
power. She sets a great example with her forgiving heart and
her genuine loving nature. My mom will always be my first
and dearest teacher.

I'm so thankful to have gotten to grow up knowing about Jesus.
And I value the importance of bringing together that knowledge
with a sincere acceptance of Him as Savior.

Though I've been taught in great ways and learned great things, I
still had to be the one to make the great choice to follow Jesus. And
I did.

I really did.

But why did I need to get baptised again? I already did that, right? Not
only did I, but I renewed it many times when the priest prayed over
us and sprinkled water as we renewed our vows.

Well, it started with a prayer.

I don't remember all the words, honestly. But when our worship leader,
Bryce, prayed for changed hearts I felt that familiar longing for a change
in my own.

Pastor Larry's message guided me to what I needed to do to
help that change along, and helped me understand why. He said we get
baptised because Jesus said so. Those simple words left no room for my
lame excuses. And there was more. He set an example by doing it, and we
demonstrate our faith by doing it too. Hmmm.

Then I heard the testimony of yet another someone I admire,
Michelle Jennings. The truth touched my heart.

I had been following Jesus on my own terms. I let my insecurities about
being in public and cold water and bathing suits cloud my reasoning. I had been
praying for a closer relationship with God, to set an example for my children,
and direction to serve. But I was trying to follow without taking all the steps.
 
Despite my shaking hands and quivering voice, I made another choice.
I whispered to Ed I wanted to be baptised with the others after church. I was
afraid he'd think I was silly. Instead he ran across the street to buy me shorts.
How cool is he?

So I stood in the water and looked out at Thomas. Two years ago he made this
same decision to be baptised. Still, I kind of hoped this would be a beautiful moment
of inspiration for him. He just gave me a silly look as if to say, "Ummm, it's about time."