“Any news?”

“Have you heard anything?”

I don’t mind the questions at all. I feel a sense of community that our people are waiting with us. Besides, it gives me a chance to tell each inquirer how incredible our God is.

We are more than 7 months in now, since our log in date with China. (They say we should get the call between 4-10 months.) Mother’s Day and Father’s Day have come and gone. My birthday, come and gone. We’re sneaking up on August here. Our last big commitment is coming up…a conference we’re speaking at in North Carolina.

After that, practically nothing. A wide open September. Wilderness permits for a Yosemite backpacking trip in October. (Jesse has already mapped out our route…my adventure tour guide.) November, December…nothing.

Nothing yet.

Years ago, and then add a couple more years to that, before we were ready to give this having a family thing a go, I remember hearing about a couple who had been trying to get pregnant for three years. Three years. I remember saying to Jesse, something along the lines of, “Three years?! I don’t know what I’ll do if it takes us that long. But I’ll have to do something.”

Now, here we are. More than four years in. Zero pregnancies. Almost two years into the adoption process. Still no baby. But, in the place of anxiety and my desire to do something is peace. The lack of news doesn’t stress me out. I’m finally finding not only comfort in the waiting but a sense of gratitude for it. Nothing feels rushed.

It never needed to in the first place.

God has given us this sweet, sweet time to prepare. There are weeks when I work overtime because we’re launching a new course with our business. But then, there are weeks where I barely work at all, my only job, rummaging through old bins in the garage, selling things we no longer need to make space for things we do. My only job is to sit on her bedroom floor, cleaning wooden blocks used to teach and build towers with another babe, who knows how long ago, dunking them in a soapy bowl and towel drying them with care.

I get to do that.

I get to take days off where I rent a carpet cleaner from Home Depot and remove three years’ worth of dust and grime from our office, so our babe has a fresh floor to play on.

I get to scroll through chairs for sale on OfferUp, find my favorite and send Jesse out for a long drive to pick up the winner.

I get to spend way too many hours in search of the perfect rug for her room.

I get to roam aisles and aisles of fabric, running my fingers along rainbows of colors and patterns, until I find the right ones for her baby blanket.

I get to buy wooden hangers for her precious clothes. Something I don’t need, but something I’ve always wanted.

But, it’s not about the things. It’s not about the stuff we’re selling or buying. It’s about the perfect amount of time, this season of hustle and work paired with the slowness and sweetness of spending hours sitting in her room together, daydreaming about her little leggies, wearing little jeans. It’s about the little person all of this is for. A babe we’ve yet to meet but pray for all the time. A little girl who had a rough start but deserves the world. Not all of its things, but all of its wonders. All of the hope and love and time and care to let her personality shine. To let her beautiful soul burst forth in color rather than let it waste away, sadly, coldly, unattended to.

Three years ago, I was in agony. And now, still waiting for His perfect timing, I sit in perfect peace. Time passes slowly when you’re in a hurry. Time passes quickly, when you’re relishing in the richness of his love.

That’s why I’m not stressed about The Call.

Of course, we’re excited. Of course, we can’t wait to meet her. Of course, we pray my phone will ring soon.

But, in the meantime, we’re drinking up this space where he has us. Mindfully, considering each aspect of our marriage, our finances, our relationships.

How can we be better stewards of what we have? How can we give more? How can we be better coaches, friends, strangers to those who need something?

We’re focusing on opening our hands, letting go of things, stuff, items, worldly possessions that aren’t really ours in the first place. “Here, Lord, take these away…we need room for something else right now.”

We’re gutting out the cobwebs and clunkiness of extras. We’re refining our home and our spirits. We’re becoming more and more who God designed us to be. Stepping into solid trust in Him. Stepping into our strengths. Letting go of past hurts. Letting go of worry. And, it’s a beautiful dance of redemption. This child isn’t even here yet. She’s not even known, by us. But she’s known by Him. And He is already using her little life to change ours.

Our lives have already changed because of her. Because of Him.

And so, we wait.

What’s three years or three more months when, in the meantime, Jesus is sprinkling inklings and waves of peace and redemption over you, transforming you to be more like Him. Molding you to be better for her.