Saturday, February 16, 2013

The holy

It's about 3am.

In thirteen hours we will get on a plane to go get our daughter.

I am a stresser when it comes to things like this. I put too much off until the last minute and then run around like a headless chicken and blog at 3am. It's just how I roll. Everyone would be happier if I rolled a different direction but unless the Organization Fairy comes and taps me with her magic Sharpie I don't foresee much improvement in this area.

But God has reminded me throught this week that I need to chill out a little and remember exactly Who is in charge here.

Like yesterday. I was looking around for paper bags in which to breathe when I saw our credit card bill with the plane tickets on it. We are going over this time with miles but just our return flights were almost $5000. Breathe in, breathe out.

Then I remembered that some dear friends of ours had a windfall in December and decided to give $2000 to our Lifesong account, which was waiting for me to request. Then Walker said, "Hey, remember my company has a $3000 adoption reimbursement program, let's check into that." Voila, $5000. And God shouted in my ear I'VE GOT THIS COVERED, GIRL just like he has over and over and over and over for the past three and a half years.

Speaking of that Lifesong account. In 2011 we were awarded a $4000 matching grant through Lifesong for Orphans and Kingsland Baptist Church in Katy. Guess how much the final donations were? $13,466. "I'VE GOT THIS COVERED."

Today I went to get a massage. Glory. I have a very messed up back, and that was before four dear fetuses left their calling cards. So among other various therapies and surgeries I have been going to get massages for a good ten years now. In all that time, I have heard hours and hours of New Agey-Eastern-y instrumental music played. Never, ever have I heard any music remotely Christian.

Until today, while I chastised myself to forget the to-do list for just a few minutes so I could relax, and thought, whoa, that sounds like Holy Holy Holy. But it can't be. No way. Not here. But wait, it IS Holy Holy Holy!! They're playing Holy Holy Holy at the massage parlor!!!  

And I sang in my head and my heart that beautiful retelling of Isaiah 6, the most praiseful of praise songs, perhaps the least self-focused and most God-focused hymn ever written:

Holy, holy, holy
Lord God almighty
Early in the morning my song shall rise to thee!
Holy. holy, holy
Merciful and mighty
God in three persons, blessed Trinity!

Holy, holy, holy
All the saints adore Thee
Casting down their golden crowns around the glassy sea
Cherubim and seraphim are falling down before Thee
Which wert and art and evermore shalt be!

Holy, holy, holy
Though the darkness hide Thee
Though the eyes of sinful man Thy glory may not see
Only Thou art holy; there is none beside Thee
Perfect in power, in love and purity!
and I recalled how God asked me that time What does holy mean? and reminded me that if it were holy, it belonged to him. And that this adoption belongs to HIM. That this is not MY adoption. This is a thing between Bethie and God, this is HIM acting out the plans he made long ago for HER life and I am just blessed to have a supporting role in it.

The script for that role calls me to get on a plane with my husband and my precious seven year old daughter (Maggie is going with us!) to bring home a beautiful little girl, a stranger, and make her my child and my children's sister. To leave our very, very comfortable realm and step into the unknown, the daunting, the desert, the crazy, the good. The holy.

And oh, how we praise him now!

Holy, holy, holy
Lord God almighty
All Thy works shall praise Thy name in earth and sky and sea!
Holy, holy, holy
Merciful and mighty
God in three persons, blessed Trinity!


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