Lean not on my own understanding?  

Thoughts from Todd

I wrote this a couple weeks ago, but it’s taken a bit to get it posted.  I tend to be the type of person who likes to do projects, but I really love the satisfaction of getting things done.  I don’t like to wait.  I like to tear into something and complete a task.  I know patience isn’t something I am blessed with.  I know it is an area of weakness.  On the other hand, I have an uncle who is a very skilled woodworker.  He is meticulous in his work.  His efforts are painstaking.   He refines his projects over and over.  He sands and puts the finishing touches on his projects until they are as close to perfect as he can get them.  I wish I had that patience and I’m awed by his handiwork and his meticulous attention to detail.

About a week ago, I stopped in my tracks and reflected upon the reality that Jesus was a carpenter.  How fitting that our Lord was a carpenter in the days He walked on this earth.  I often lose sight of that aspect of His life.  In fact, I rarely if ever have paused and reflected upon that reality.  I see God as my all powerful savior who has the ability to move mountains.  My God moves mountains.  What a dilemma.  What do I do with that?  I’ve wrestled with that reality over the past 30 months.  When you jump in with both feet trusting a God who moves mountains, it stops making sense when the mountains rarely seem to move. In fact, you look up to see another mountain in your path and cry out to God “If you can move mountains, where are You?” 

When all you can see is a never ending climb up a mountain, you rarely, if ever, stop to reflect that our Lord is a carpenter.  He is a craftsman who has a vision and a plan that our impatient hearts and minds fail to grasp.   I rushed to bring my precious Jaline home.  I figured we could fast forward the process of bringing His precious child home, regardless of corruption and inefficiencies in the world of Haiti.  I knew my God could handle everything; however, I failed to realize that His plan was bigger. I didn’t know that my precious Jaline had an amazing sister in the very same orphanage I was rushing to get her out of.   I couldn’t grasp the fact that the plan was for us to adopt two.  I couldn’t get my head around two.  I wanted to trust, but only as far as my mind could see and comprehend.  I thought: We don’t have enough money.  How will we provide?   Where will everyone fit?  Yet, His plan was bigger, he saw further ahead.  He had a vision that I lacked.  He saw beyond the mountains that stared me in the face.

After we jumped out in faith again, I prayed “all right Lord, we’re all in, You can bring them home now.”  Yet, days, weeks, and months passed, and He whispered “Not yet, they’re not ready.”  I didn’t hear that, all I heard was silence and my frustration grew.  I argued, we’re ready, they’re ready, let’s go Lord.  I cried out, Lord, I said Let’s GO!  What are you waiting for?  You said trust, I did, Let’s go.

Back and forth we went.  “Not yet, there’s still work to be done.”  No, we’re missing days, weeks, months, years of their lives.  Those are experiences we will never share together.  We’ll never get them back.  This isn’t fair.  They’re ready.  “Not yet, there’s still work to be done.”  If you can move mountains, why can’t you move paperwork?  Why can’t you speed things up?  Why do ridiculous earthly things continue to get in the way?  Why can’t You fix it?

I must admit, I’ve been angry with God. Fiercely angry.  Bitter.  Confused.  Disillusioned.  Why? Why? Why? My impatience and confusion with the endless months has been an incredible challenge.   My Father’s heart and longing for my daughters has tested me in so many ways.   

Well, after two and a half years, it looks like they’re almost home and I am forced to pause and reflect deeply on the reality that my Heavenly Father is a Carpenter.  A perfectionist.  A wise parent that sees ahead and protects their children, even when the children turn rebellious and believe they know more.  As our kids grow older, I absolutely believe it was easier when they were younger.  It’s easy making sure they don’t run in to the street and chase after that ball.  Anybody can do that.  It’s easy to pick them up when they scrape their knee and make it all better.  I remember a time, last Spring, when Marie Line was stung by a bee.  The tears poured out and I picked her up, held her tight, put ice on it, and told her it would be ok.  I knew it she would be fine, even when she was sobbing, scared, and confused.  I knew she would be fine, even when she didn’t understand.  Daddy loves being the hero and taking care of his precious children. 

Yet, when they grow up, it’s so much harder.  You can’t always be there, you hope and pray that you’ve taught them well, you try to make sure they know how deeply you love them, you pray that they will understand when you say no and try to help them make the right choices.  You pray, worry, and hope that they will trust you when you’ve experienced pain, made poor choices or mistakes and try to help them not to make their own mistakes.  Even when they believe they know better.  Even when they believe you don’t know what you’re talking about.  Even when they believe they think there’s a better way.  You want them so badly to trust, yet their human impatience and lack of understanding causes them to think you’re wrong or don’t know what you’re doing. 

Yet, you yourself are too short sighted to realize that you do that in your own walk with God.  You think you know what the timing should be.  You think He doesn’t care and has forgotten you.  You wonder if you were wrong all along to trust in your hero.  You wonder if He’s let you down.  You try to find your own answers even though you know deep down what the truth is, but you just can’t seem to understand it or find it. You so quickly forget all the amazing ways he proved himself to you in the past.  You forget the days when Dad came home and you thought he was Superman.  You forget all the amazing ways he invested in your life and taught you, guided you, and shaped you into the person you are today. 

You act like the Israelites who constantly rebelled from God, had to be reminded over and over again of His faithfulness, despite all of the amazing ways He proved his Love to them.  You forget how he held your hand at the start of this journey, like a protective parent.   He took you by the hand, and walked you into to that orphanage and placed his precious Jaline before you and said this is the one.  He opened the doors, He watched out for you, He placed a burden upon the hearts of friends and acquaintances to give when you couldn’t afford to adopt.  He opened the doors for your wife to visit Haiti, bond with Jaline’s sister, and make sure you understood that there’s no way you could ever leave precious Marie Line behind.  He led you to the perfect house for your expanded family.  He opened door after door as a Father does for a child. 

He watched over you every step of the way, but gradually he stepped back.  He still watched with the same love, concern, and caring, but as he watched you grow, he stepped back, knowing there were some things you would have to learn on your own, so that you would be prepared for the future.  He shuddered as you turned away.  He hurt as you questioned him. He wept as you failed to trust.  Yet, he loves you all the same, with the unconditional love of a Father who takes joy in His children and melts when they come back and realize that they need to be patient and trusting as they grow.  He knows they will be stronger from the trials, despite the pain of watching them battle through them.  I know my Heavenly Father is a perfectionist.  I know He is way more patient than I.  I know that He is creating masterpieces in Jaline and Marie Line.  I know his plans for our precious girls are amazing.  I know it’s been a brutal heartwrenching process.  I know now that he’s been shaping and refining the girls and our family for when they finally come.  I know that there will be trials ahead, but I know that it is in His hands.  I know I need to trust more, even when it doesn’t make any sense. 

Proverbs 3:4 Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding…