The Purple Basket

The moment we received our referral we went in to hyper “nesting” mode…we started rushing around preparing our home and hearts for two more children.  In this process we started shifting bedrooms, reading loads of research about bonding and attachment, and devoting all of our mental energy in to being a home of 7.

We also realized that some of the financing of this adoption would be done differently than we had anticipated. As I mentioned in an earlier blog–we had planned to apply for many grants, and hoped to fund most of our adoption in this way.  The timing and quickness of our referral AND our court date has really limited our time frame to receive these types of grants.  We had heard of families that had raised their entire adoption with grants.    I love the idea of not being a burden on anyone!  (I secretly wished this was my story.)

We even heard of a family–from our agency–that received a referral at the same time we received our referral.  That particular family received a matching gift of $15,000–if they could raise the rest by the end of August.  It didn’t take a month–they received another large gift the very next day…so within 48 hours all of their adoption funds were raised.  (I secretly wished this was my story.)  

Often we want our story to be written differently.  We want our story to be written the way we want it to go.  We want our story to be quick and expedited…on our terms, in our time.  Pain-free and pencil perfect.  But thank goodness this is not how life works.  It would completely take faith and trust out of the equation.  It would certainly be less interesting.  And surprisingly–far less beautiful…  

A few days ago Kylee’s friend Nia dropped off a gift at the house.  It was a cute little plastic purple basket.  Inside was $153.10.  Nia and her sister had done some chores, walked a few dogs, and then baked cookies and made bracelets to sell to family and friends.  All of this to raise money to help our family bring home more friends for her to play with.  It was such a touching moment I was moved to tears.  (As is Kylee…every time she re-tells the story…and she will tell it to anyone who will listen!)
What happened Monday night continues to roll around in my head.  Why do I think that it has to be my way?  Why do I think that my life has to be like “hers” or my story needs to go “that” way?  Isn’t it sweeter to have a 7 year old show up with a precious purple basket?  What about my children?  Wasn’t Kylee’s faith exponentially increased to see her friend’s sacrifice and generosity?  Aren’t I limiting God to expect the skies to part or act in some grandiose way when we all know He took a young boy with 2 fish and 5 loaves and fed the multitudes? 

We often tell God how our story should go.  We find it frustrating when it is not written the way we would write it.  I am convinced it is way more beautiful–though terrifying–to surrender our way to His way.  

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord Isaiah 55:8-9

May you Be a Blessing and May You Be Blessed,



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