Doesn’t it go something like that? The song?
Oh, no, it was “pray.”
But I do mean “pay.”
Because there is precious little we can’t pay for, isn’t there? Sure, I don’t mean that everyone can run out willy-nilly and buy anything that strikes their fancy––there are cars that you will never own, boats that will never approach the likes of your budget––but, really: Aren’t most of the people in the socio-economic circles you inhabit able to pay for a whole ream of stuff way beyond necessities?
I’m not rich by my own country’s standards, but I totally know that there aren’t a whole lot of other people that I interact with here in western China who are saving up for a trip to Europe like I just took with my wife. (Though China does have, of course, its wealthy, and wildly wealthy, too.)
You want to go to Europe? (Or somewhere else if Europe’s home?) Chances are you could make that happen. It might take some years of saving; it might mean cutting out cable or buying a junkier car; but a splurge like that is probably not out of reach for a whole lot of Westerners if it’s something they really want.
Or, you could make different choices: keep that cable; buy the new Corvette with CarPlay; go to Disneyland. Whatever. Maybe you can afford all of the above and more. My point, I think, is that pretty much all of us, even though it’s oh-so-easy to solely notice only those above us on the money ladder, have choices.
What about dropping $30 grand on an international adoption? That’s a choice, too. A large one. $30K is such a large amount to so many of us that it becomes an obstacle that keeps many people who would otherwise consider adopting from ever signing up.
We only ever considered the money once: the first time.
And it was an obstacle: How on earth are we going to pay for this?
But the second time, it was completely God’s idea, and so we knew he would have to provide the funds.
Here’s exactly what I said at the time, in quote form and lifted from my upcomingandsoeasytoalwaysquotehereinthisblog book:
“OK, God. This second adoption was your idea. With all due respect, I would like to go on record as reiterating that it was not mine. I am sending you the bill.”
I meant that.
He still surprised us.
All we were able to raise totaled $8 thousand. Then someone who didn’t know us from Adam gave us $22 thousand. We never found out who.
And now—slap of the palm to the forehead—here we go again, adopting for the third time. [A development that came on the scene, mind you, after our Eurotrip had been planned and largely paid for; otherwise we’d never have gone. For choosing to adopt surely means choosing not to do other things. But by that point it was too late to cancel anything, and we like to believe God did that on purpose for us and let us enjoy that special anniversary together.]
About the same time we were announcing this third adoption to our weekly fellowship, our inaugural round of adoption expenses (home study, background checks, etc.) came due. All told, something in the low $3K’s. One week later, a teenager in our fellowship who has an hourly-rate part-time job walked up to us and handed us an envelope. It was thick enough to feel the bills inside. She said she wanted to participate. God wanted her to give to our adoption. Wow.
Then the woman sitting next to me in the meeting, someone I’d met once, handed me another envelope. This one was ridiculously thick.
“For the adoption.”
I had to ask what her name was again so I could thank her.
Finally, once we were home, neighbors handed us money: “Here, someone wanted to contribute to the adoption anonymously.”
Those gifts totaled in the mid-$3K’s. God one step ahead.
So again I ask you: Why worry, when you can pay?
Cause when He’s footing the bill, you can pay. You can pay for whatever he says. And often we can pay for a whole lot more. Sometimes it seems we can only pay for “less,” but then he turns our hearts towards those who truly have less, or…he brings the Body around, and everything gets all paid for after all.
We know you brought this boy to us, and we know that his adoption is not any kind of burden that falls on our shoulders.
We are not worried.