Wanting More // Defending the Cause of the Fatherless

I wrongly assumed that after bringing these beautiful children home I would feel settled. Complete. Content. Finished. 

I cannot tell you how wrong I was. I think contentment is good and can be found in all circumstances. Contentment, just knowing I am where God wants me, seeking Him. It's not a place or job or something to check off my list. It's just continually leaning into Him, His grace and mercy, His love, His strength. 

But what about this nagging feeling? I thought it would go away. Without a shadow of doubt, adoption was what God asked of us. I love those "things" that God wants from us that are so clear. 

Obedience. It's so much easier to obey when it's all spelled out for us. I desire obedience. I want to obey God. I want my children to obey me and my husband. Obedience is good. It just makes my heart happy and makes things run so much more smoothly. 

So, I obey God throughout my day. Spend time with Him. Pray as I fold the laundry. Trust that He will provide for all the tomorrows. Teach my children scripture. Listen to the cries of peoples hearts.  Forgive when necessary. 

Mess up. 

Ask for forgiveness.

Do it all over again. 

So why won't this nagging of more go away? What else is God asking of me? Who else does God want me to see? Where does God want me to go? When will God show me? 

There are so many unfinished projects, Lord. I really need to finish my list first.

God, I need to get dressed and help the children start their day.

But I have been praying for direction. For wisdom. For a burning bush moment. For clarity.

This morning I felt God telling me to read Isaiah. 

But I really don't have time to read the whole book of Isaiah. 

So I started to read Isaiah 1.

Isaiah 1:12-20

 When you come to appear before me, 

who has asked this of you, 

this trampling of my courts?

Stop bringing meaningless offerings!

Your incense is detestable to me.

New Moons, Sabbaths, and convocations

I cannot bear your evil assemblies.

Your New Moon festivals and your appointed feasts

my soul hates. 

They have become a burden to me;

I am weary of bearing them.

When you spread our your hand in prayer,

I will hide my eyes from you; 

even if you offer many prayers, 

I will not listen. 

Your hands are full of blood;

was and make yourselves clean.

Take your evil deeds

out of my sight!

Stop doing wrong,

learn to do right!

Seek justice,

encourage the oppressed.

Defend the cause of the fatherless, 

plead the case of the widow.

"Come now, let us reason together,"

says the Lord.

"Though your sins are like scarlet,

they shall be as white as snow;

though they are red as crimson,

they shall be like wool.

If you are willing and obedient,

you will eat the best from the land;

but if you resist and rebel,

you will be devoured by the sword."

For the mouth of the Lord has spoken.

I was so wrong about the feelings I imagined I would have once my children came home.

Relief has overwhelmed me.

I am so grateful to have them in my arms. To be able to check on them, night or day. To (constantly) feed them. To answer their questions. 

To watch them grow and learn. To hear their voices. To settle arguments. To kiss their boo-boos. To hug them. To teach them. To watch them learn to trust. And figure out our family.

I am not surprised by all those emotions and thoughts. 

I am, however, surprised by the feeling of right-ness.

It feels normal, right. I need to consistently remind myself this is all still new, because it definitely feels as though they have been home a much longer time. The settled feeling, the togetherness. It's not difficult to call them my children. It's not hard to call them mine. I love them. 

God has answered my prayers of prepared hearts, understanding minds and most of all, unfailing love. 

 
Here's where I am surprised by my emotions and thoughts. 

I don't feel finished.

I am not talking about in the sense of growing our family (although only God knows the answer to that). 

I mean, I get caught off guard. I look at them, their smiling facing, their tears. Their now nourished little bodies, and I remember not long ago how lost they were. How hungry. How desperate and lonely. 

I am so relieved that my children are mine. Loved and home.

I can't shake this though. I am not finished. I want to raise my family and keep looking inward. 

I just can't. Because...

What about the others? The hungry, the hurting, the lost.

If I could do anything, anything at all...

I want to feed the hungry. I want to hold the babies. I want to write. I want to speak. I want to share about the unfailing love that Jesus offers. I want to...

seek justice, 

encourage the oppressed. 

Defend the cause of the fatherless, 

plead the case of the widow.    

I have no idea how or where or when. I have learned that I need to take every opportunity that God sends my way. And for now, that may look like feeding my own hungry children, delivering a meal, praying, hosting a Bible study. But I will continue to seek the Lord, His direction and wisdom for each new day.

Mostly because I know God wants more of me. I just don't know what that looks like yet. 

One step of obedience at a time, I believe He will reveal to my family what, where and when He wants us. 

Where are you in this?

Why am I writing about this? 

What a strange home coming post?

Because you have been in this with us. You have upheld us in prayer. You have encouraged and supported and you are so much a part of this story that God is writing in the lives of our family, our children. I ask you to continue in prayer for our family, through transitions and decisions and direction. 

Maybe God is tugging at your heart, too? Maybe you feel lost or wandering? We'll never have it all figured out, never know all the why's this side of heaven, but we are not alone. So if you feel that too, I just want to encourage you, seek the Lord, one day at a time.

 (Side note: I cannot wait for you all to meet them. Although we are still "cocooning" a bit, we'll emerge as we feel they are ready.)