Adventurously Expectant

As soon as we received word that we were on the official waiting list.
I felt like a mother.
That is, I felt fear grip my chest.
I've heard from other mother, those expecting, and those raising their children that fear is often the hallmark emotion of motherhood.

And as I felt it weigh heavily, I sort of felt a part of the club. A club of nonsensical, worriers riding waves of emotions.

Of course...my worries are a bit different than other mothers. Instead of worrying about soft cheeses and mercury levels in tuna, I'm worrying about the levels of stress hormones and second-hand smoke and other things my baby might be exposed to. I'm worrying about any trauma, or emotional support, or access to resources, or relationship of our baby's birth mother.

I'm concerned about how I don't really qualify for any leave time from work until next October. And I'm afraid of what might happen if I don't get to have an extended period of time to bond and form attachments with my baby.

And of course, there is the financial part of adoption. Yikes.

But motherhood isn't about comparing. It's just another gracious situation to place my life, the life of our child, and the life of his/her birth mother into the will and hands of Christ. Another change to trust His provision and protection.

And in the meantime. I work. Work to advocate for those living with mental illness. Work to save all we can for the coming expenses of hospitals, and lawyers, and newborns. Work to build our supports. Work to learn from classes and books. And do the work of trusting and preparing our hearts and marriage and faith for whatever is to come. Because we are expecting. And we expect Jesus to show up in the middle of our fear.

This resurrection life you received from God
is not a timid, grave-tending life.
It's adventurously expectant,
greeting God with a childlike "What's next, Papa?"
Romans 8- The Message