My wife and I had developed a plan for becoming a family of seven.  About six weeks ago we decided to contact our adoption agency  (Bethany Christian Services – not enough superlatives for them) about beginning another international adoption.  In our minds it made perfect sense.  Henry was 18 months old and had been home with us for almost nine.  Plus, from what we had read, it would probably take at least three years to complete the process.  That would give us plenty of time to prepare and be ready to bring home our new baby girl (in our minds of course, it had to be a girl after three consecutive boys).

Our decision to adopt again, and to use Bethany was the only part of our plan to materialize.  After making contact, our social worker suggested we might want to consider a domestic adoption – the need, especially in Arkansas, was greater than for international adoptions.  That was an easy adjustment for us, easier paperwork, no international travel ordeal, win, win.  Our social worker then told us that the process was much shorter and we could have a child within a year.  This was not in the original plan, but still not too hard for us to adjust to – we felt God had called us to adopt, so from toddler from Ethiopia or China in three or four years to newborn from Arkansas in a year – not too major.  So we proceeded.

Fast forward to last Monday.  Our social worker called us in the evening to tell us that one of the birth mothers they had in counseling had just delivered a month early and, because of a variety of circumstances, we were somehow at the top of the list.  And, would we be interested in adopting this baby boy?  So, from my plan of toddler girl from China or Ethiopia in three or four years to a newborn from Arkansas in about a year (also still a girl in my head), to a premie boy in six weeks, very different from my plan to say the least.  We of course said yes and my plans were gloriously tossed completely in the trash can.

As I thought about all of this, looking at my newest son, sleeping in his home, with his family around him, my mind was drawn to Isaiah 55.  In verses 8-9, the prophet wrote, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord.  For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts higher than your thoughts.”  I am so thankful that God graciously scrapped my plans and gave me something better than I had imagined.