Our Little Money Tree

I've been wanting to write this post for a while.  I keep starting it in my mind and then hesitating before actually typing anything.  You see, I want to talk about money.  And money is such a sticky, personal, might-totally-step-on-someone's-sensitive-toes topic.  (If you know me, I'm not really a step-on-someone's-toes kind of person.  I'm more like a run-if-someone-gets-their-toes-near-me kind of person.)

But the same thoughts keep coming to my mind.  The same words keep swirling around in my head.  And they need to be said.  So, if you have sensitive toes, please step reading right now.  (If you decide to keep reading, you can't say I didn't warn you.)

I have to tell you about our little money tree.  It's hidden away in a shadowed corner of our backyard.  It doesn't need water or sunshine, and - instead of flowers - its blossoms are hundred dollar bills.  In the late summer, there are thousands of them: green, crisp, and ripe for the taking.

Our money tree is why we decided to adopt, you know.  We saw the cost, looked out our back window, and figured we easily had it covered.  There are thousands of dollars just hanging out there, after all.

Agency fees?  Check.

Airplane tickets?  No problem.

Fifty-seven sets of wildly-expensive fingerprints? On it.

Or maybe not so much.

In real life, the only tree in our back yard is a maple.  Sadly, it doesn't grow fruit...or blossoms...or hundred dollar bills.  In real life, I'm a stay-at-home mom, and my husband is a pastor.  In real life, when we learned how much our adoption was going to cost we had no idea where the heck we were going to come up with that much money.  (Because, you know, it was enough to buy like half our house.)

Here's my biggest confession yet: in our real October 2009 life, we didn't have the $600 we needed to pay our agency's application fee.  Seriously.

But we had prayed about adoption.  We knew there were thousands upon thousands of children waiting...and waiting...and waiting.  To be loved.  To be held.  To be kissed goodnight and told they are special.  We had room for more little ones in our home and in our hearts.  We felt God calling us to start on a journey, and we knew the God calling us was a big God.  Bigger than $10,000.  Bigger than $100,000.  Bigger than anything we'd need to go where he was taking us.

So, on October 5, 2009, we scraped up $600 and started this crazy adventure.  And, wow, it hasn't been easy.  It's been rough and full of unexpected bumps and, at times, take-your-breath-away painful.  But God has shown himself to be big...really, really big.

When all is said and done, our adoption is going to cost about $41,000.  (Yes, there are three zeroes in that number.)  Since that day in October - thirty-two very long months ago - God has slowly, steadily, extraordinarily, and very ordinarily provided the finances for each step of this journey.

Two weeks ago, I sat with another adoptive mama (and amazing friend) and marveled at the fact that we were more than halfway done with the financial part of our adoption.  God had provided $22,500.  I told her that if we had to take out a loan for a chunk of the remaining amount, that was 100% okay with me because it would be 1000% worth it. (After all, people take out $10,000 car loans every day, right?)

That was two Sundays ago.

Last Thursday we found out we'd received a grant for $13,500. 

I know I've said this once or twice, but our God is big.

Thirty-two months into this journey, we are almost there.  The amount we have left to save has gone from a seemingly insurmountable cliff to a speed bump.  I'm dismally failing in my attempt to come up with the right adjective to describe how we're feeling right now. 

Why am I sharing this potentially-toe-damaging information?  Because there's something incredibly important that I want you to hear when you read it.  Here's what I'm trying to communicate.  We don't make tons of money.  We're haven't won the lottery or received a gigantic inheritance.  We don't have a little money tree.  We're just a family who wanted more children.  A family who felt God calling us to care for the orphans.  A family who imperfectly and with lots of stumbling is trying to follow God's plan.  

I want you to hear this because maybe one of you reading this has considered adoption.  Maybe you've felt a little tug on your heart when you've heard about orphans or watched a family welcome a new child into their home or read an adoption blog.  And maybe you've said, "We can't adopt.  We don't have $XXXX.  There's no way on earth we could come up with $XXXX."

I want you to hear that you're wrong.  That the God we serve is our Provider.  That he's not short on money, and that he does unbelievable things when we step out in faith to follow his leading.  I want you to hear "God is big" when you hear our story.

I want you to know that - little money tree or not - you could do this crazy thing too.