As with our first adoption, my husband Jon hasn't been so quick to envision the same scenario. I have to be honest.  It made me a little nuts for the first couple of years after we brought Caroline home. I mean, really, we'd done this once.  Couldn't he just have faith in what I was sure was God's plan for us?  Remember that big picture?  I was ready to start coloring in the next part of that picture. I was impatient.  He felt pressured. It wasn't a pretty picture at all. And then slowly God revealed enough of His plan that I thought I knew so much about that I could begin to make peace with waiting once again.   He reminded me that I needed to focus on relying on my own faith.  I needed to be still and wait on Him.  If you've read our story, then you already know waiting is not on my top ten list.  Seems to me there's a pattern here, folks.

In every sense of the word, I'm still waiting.  You'd better believe I'd love nothing more than to spend the afternoon filling out that adoption application.  Better yet, I'd like to spend it booking flights to China.  But I know it's not time.  And we're almost four years into this waiting thing again.  There's a lot more to this chapter of our story that I'll share over time, but the short version is this.  God has given me this idea of selling tutus to raise money to bring home Mary-Kate. Two thousand of them, to be exact.  It's a ridiculously lofty goal, I know.  Are there really 2000 people out there willing to buy a tutu??  Crazy woman. Oh, wait a minute.  There's that word again.  Crazy.  Yep, I'm in.  Wouldn't it be just amazing if God used something so frivolous as a pile of tulle and ribbon to bring home one of the lost?  So call me crazy.  It's a risk I'm willing to take because I happen to believe that God does His best work when it comes to crazy, far-fetched and impossible.