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I can’t do it alone.

I have been in the far north of Canada for five days now. My brain is swamped, my heart is overwhelmed and my emotions are engaged at every level. I have already walked a fine line of probably telling the world too much of where we are at.

Typically people don’t say anything and they just show up back online with a child they’ve adopted that no one really knew was coming, except those very close to them.

Neither of these approaches are right or wrong, and in some cases you are forbidden to say anything online at all, so don’t think that I’m bashing keeping that kind of information quiet. But I’ve felt this constant tug to be real and transparent about our hearts on the line and the reality of the fight to see our hopes into reality.

Today is very cold compared to back home. When I woke up it felt like minus 2 degrees and the cold rain fell. But God chose to warm my heart up immensely through the love of strangers today. Strangers who heard my story and chose to reach out and come encourage me. Strangers who instantly became friends and showed me a side of this city I had not yet seen. Friends who made sure I knew where their home was so I could stop in whenever. Friends who said “now you know you have a support system right here.”

It’s funny, I generally don’t need anyone extra in my life. It sounds rude, but honestly, I’m an introverted introvert that already has to spend enough energy on family and life. I have to force myself to go connect with people. I have to set boundaries so that all the good stuff in me isn’t sucked away.

But there is something about being miles away, alone in the arctic that makes you need people. I’m not talking about someone who will just small talk with you, I mean someone who has a deep heart to heart connection with you and can look you in the eyes and remind you of why you’ve come all this way.

These people did this for me today.

I realized on night two of being here that if I didn’t pick up the phone and call someone, I would struggle. Evenings are a vulnerable time for me. I’m tired. I’m never alone at night. It needed to be someone who knew the promises of God for this baby, and who knew how to talk me back to believing again.

I called my sister and we didn’t even talk, we just preached the goodness of God to one another until we were both so full of faith I could have adopted all the babies and she could have opened another store.

I need people.

I thought I didn’t. But I strip back all the busyness of kids, marriage and life and it’s just me, my fifth cup of tea, the sound of cold rain, and the echo of a promise. It’s there that I realize I can’t do this by myself.

We need our champions. I can’t even acknowledge voices that speak doubt because I’m desperately clinging to a promise that flew me nearly 3,000 kilometres from my home and my family and I am holding tight to the belief that God who started all of this is going to complete every good thing.

When we are in a season of contending for a promise, we need the faith filled ones in our life.

Today, I’m thankful for a faith filled family who welcomed me in, and some pretty amazing women back home who are taking my tear filled calls every night and praying me through each fear that I face.

 

 

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