I tell myself...

I tell myself I should be in bed sleeping but instead I feel like writing. I will pay tomorrow but tonight it will benefit a little more. This morning the sky was black with thick clouds that carried into the evening. There were cracks of lighting and thunder and waves of pounding rain. In a way it was amazing to feel the excitement and fear of the storm. The streets quickly filled with water as the nearby ponds overflowed. At this same time Ryan was fighting a cold. He has been a little dark cloud, roaring like thunder when he blows his nose, and he is miserable. So when the storm calmed I was surprised when he said he would go on a walk with me to look at the flooded streets.

As we walked along a large pond we could see where it had overflowed by the line of debris across our path. We also noticed many many flopping, silver and brown baby fish in the rocks and grass around us. Like little kids we began picking them up and throwing the tiny bass and perch back into the pond. The more we looked the more we found and eventually we began filling my shirt with handfuls of fish. Ryan crouched over the puddles trying to grab the fish that were swimming in what would be a dry patch of mud in the morning. Eventually our feet we were covered in mud and grass as we went back and forth from the path to the pond.

I caught the most fish I have ever caught in my life, handfuls, shirtfuls, so many that I couldn't count! Yet this experience had a deeper meaning for me than a great fish story. I can't help but think of each fish and how I saved their lives. This action, this experience, makes me feel a deeper appreciation for storms in my life, loved ones, and my Saviour. Sometimes we become overwhelmed by the waters of temptations, grief, fear, hate, etc. We are carried above and over the shores; thrown onto the dry ground. Some of us fight and thrash our way back into the waters while others are washed into larger streams, still some of get caught in the rocks that are too big to maneuver. It is at this point where divine intervention must save us. Where we must call for help.

Over the last seven years I have had storms come in and out of my life. I have felt loss when we were told we would not have children. I was carried above the shore out of the comfort of the waters. Like those fish at times I have made my way back to the pond, other times I was washed down to other streams. I too have called on loved ones and my Saviour to help me when I was stuck between the rocks.

In a way we are all like the fish and, at other times, we are like Ryan and I throwing the fish back into the water. I can't help but feel that there are many around us, handfuls, shirtfuls, of individuals who need help, who need to be taken up and placed back in the waters. If we look a little harder we just might see them waiting for us.

When we got home, I did the dishes for Ryan, I made him some herbal tea, and read him a talk about "the concern for one". I wanted to help him and bring him a little peace. In deed he did seem more calm as we felt the Spirit in our home. I hope that we can find a little more concern for the one. That we take a little more time after the storms in our lives to search for those who may be trapped. To teach of our Saviour, to give a little more, and ask when we need help.

We are adopting, my heart could not be more full of such varying emotions. I ask that you pray or fast for us, as we will be as well, on Sunday. Fast and pray that the Lord will guide birth parents to us. That He will comfort them and help them with the decisions they may have to make. That we will accept His will and find peace and rest in this storm. That we may have a family.

Jesus is my Saviour, my Redeemer.