A Memorial

Many of you know my husband's line of work - a contractor with FedEx.

And because we're super proud of it, many of you know our financial status - debt free.

The Christmas season is always bitter-sweet.  During this time, my husband and I usually kiss each other good-bye, and look forward to seeing one another after Christmas because his work gets SO BUSY.  But usually that busy-ness results in a decent paycheck afterwards.  And usually we use that paycheck to pay down our debt.  But no debt this year meant that we were going to use that paycheck to...you guessed it...cover adoption expenses.  Woo-hoo, right?

Wrong.

"Usually" hasn't happened this year.  Sure, I got to see my husband a lot more than expected, but we were prepared and willing to face a hectic Christmas because the end result was going to be a huge blessing to our end goal.   Instead, the contractors prepared for certain projections that were grossly miscalculated, and most of them are asking the same question:  what happened?

Needless to say, I've spent a few evenings crying and then having to confess to my husband, my sister, and one of my closest friends that my faith has been 100% tied up in the money I expected this season, yet hasn't come in.

What a poor testimony I am to my professed faith.  =(

And I continued to wrestle with those thoughts as I sat in the back of church this morning.  I kid you not, I stared at the lights hanging on the wood beams in our sanctuary and talked to God (in my head, of course, because even if I am a doubting Thomas, I can't let other people know...right?) about how I'm upset at Him.  I'm sure it's not very spiritual to be upset with God, but I've found a decent way to justify it for now.  In that talk I had with Him, I told Him He was responsible for restoring my faith, even if I'm to blame for misplacing it. This conversation really did happen.

And then this happened:  I got up during our meet-and-greet time to go to the bathroom.  When I came back, there was a crumpled envelope on the floor by my seat with our last name on it.  The envelope was ripped open and empty but I asked my husband where it had come from.  He handed me the contents that were in the envelope.

It was a check with a donation towards our adoption.

Did it completely restore my faith in God's ability to provide for us?  Embarrassingly, no.  You guys, I'm totally human and I have so many doubts to work through.  But I'll tell you this:  it was a hand on my shoulder from God, saying, "even in your time of doubt and struggle, I am still working on your behalf."  My lack of faith does not limit God's ability to move.

So, to my good friends who gave the donation, you know who you are and more than just thanking you, I want you to know how God was working through your generosity this morning.  More than any dollar amount, your donation was a faith lesson for me.

Why write a post about it?  Because, if I remember correctly, after God led the Israelites across the Jordan, he directed them to build a memorial to Him so that people would remember His faithfulness to them.  Since I don't have 12 stones lying around, I figured a blog post would suffice.  =)