“I can’t do this!” I spoke adamantly, sitting on the bed next to my half-packed suitcase and feeling completely overwhelmed. I was scheduled to leave early the next morning to speak at a women’s conference in another state, and it was the last thing in the world I felt up to. Between the challenges of raising four young children and my never-ending mountain of ministry tasks, I wondered why I had ever said yes to going in the first place.
I sat tensely in the hospital waiting room, trying to keep my breathing steady as I waited anxiously for news. Any moment, a little boy would be born — a baby whom I hadn’t met but already loved as my own. And yet, unlike a normal pregnancy, I didn’t yet have the complete assurance that he would be my child. God had scripted a beautiful story between our family and the baby’s birth mother.
“Are you happy?” my friend Gerda asked the small, crying boy standing before her who could not find his way out of a drowning fit of tears.
“NO!” came his sobbing reply, “I’m really sad!”
“Do you want to be happy?” Gerda asked with a gentle, patient smile.
“Yes,” he quietly let out with a gasp of air between sobs and a little nod of his head.
I have a royal fascination for … royals. Lords and ladies, kings and queens — I love good, old-fashioned pomp and circumstance. I was the girl who was enthralled with Anastasia in my growing up years, and I may or may not have all of Queen Victoria’s diaries downloaded on my Kindle. With a recent royal wedding, I refrained from setting my alarm early to catch the details, but I thoroughly enjoyed snippets of the ceremony later on … when I was intrigued by a detail in the ceremony that deeply resonated with me.
Mike is an introvert, I’m an extrovert. He likes the heat, I like the cold. He’s a night owl, I’m an early bird. He’s logical, I’m creative. He likes things plain and simple, I like them bold and complex. He likes it dark and cozy, I like it bright and breezy. He loves to take risks, I am risk averse. He likes predictability, I like spontaneity. He has three pairs of shoes, I have thirty. He’s thoughtful, I’m impulsive. He can wait, I’m impatient. He likes to joke, I am literal. He likes sweet, I like salty.
I stood in the middle of our finished basement, my heart sinking as I surveyed the ruined floors and damaged walls. All the furniture and decor was in disarray. Our kids’ blankets, clothes, and toys were scattered in all directions.