Louie and the Wolf

Riding the indoor trainer is a last resort.  When running or cycling outside is unusually impractical, I'll spend an hour sweating it out on the exercise bike.  I'm not sure that these contraptions weren't present in the Gulags or Japanese prison camps - they are torture to the mind (and body) if you have the fortitude to make it so.

My diversion in the past has been a sort of documentary I found on Hulu, Battlefront, a series of 30 minute episodes chronologically portraying the phases and battles of WWII using veterans' interviews and a bunch of old black and white footage.  I found it to be interesting, as did Ella, to the chagrin of my wife.  As the GI's charge across the Solomon Islands, I pour sweat too, following along on my bicycle. Bombs crash, airplane engines drone overhead, and the cranks of the trainer creak as I push the resistance up one more level to keep up.

But they seem to have pulled the series from Hulu.  Last time I rode the trainer I settled for a series of documentaries on how they record various outdoor extreme sports such as Heli-skiing, Downhill Mountain biking, etc.  Interesting enough, but for this morning, Sunday morning, I needed something more likely to prepare me for worship.

I've seen Louie Giglio's presentations in the past on YouTube, and his being the only name coming readily to mind, I started searching for a presentation that was about an hour long.  51:22 for one titled Symphony (I Lift My Hands) seemed good enough, so I started spinning and hit play.  Louie Giglio is an accomplished communicator and is doing a great job connecting with today's youth, but he also managed to communicate with me.  If you've been connected to the internet for much time at all you've likely come across his presentation of the stars, whales, and Chris Tomlin singing How Great is Our God together.  It's spine tingling and likely to cause one of those goofy grins that you realize too late, but only because you see everyone else wearing the same expression.

That same presentation was integrated into this video, and so I nearly stopped it and looked for something new and different - but I had to let him finish the song.  I'm glad I did because the remainder was a challenge to live a life of worship.  I won't spoil the video since I think you should watch it for yourself.

But why am I pushing a YouTube video?  Because it was just what I needed.  Friday, we spoke via conference call to the mother of a little boy - yet to be born.  Her life and ours seem to have been chosen by God to meet for that fireside chat Bec wrote about last time.  The tiny, developing baby boy that she carries now, will - God willing - someday be our son.  We've started signing papers and making lists. The blizzard seems to have lifted momentarily - just as long as we don't think about it too much.

If we carry the blizzard analogy forward, there is now another element.  A black shadow now darts in and out among the trees as we plunge ahead.  Why didn't I see him sooner?  This malignant wolf obviously has my scent.  I know his name.  Anxiety.  We've met before.

Over 4 years ago he shredded me as I tripped along the path toward the delivery of our 2nd daughter.  The loss of our son Ezekiel, and the passing of a friend's wife at the delivery of her baby put the beast on my scent from the instant Bec showed me the positive test.  Anxiety nearly ate me alive then, and has been nearby ever since.

I needed that video.  The wolf is padding through the shadows again, and I could really use some ammunition.  Why didn't I see him sooner?  Because the blizzard was too much, and all I could do is look for the right path.  Now the path is more clear...and so are a lot of other things.  The mother of our son has a name.  She has needs.  We have a due date.  We have needs.  The pitfalls ahead are innumerable, and that hound has begun pointing them all out in an effort to get us off the path.

I could really use some ammunition.  I got it this morning.  Worship.

BLAM!

I hit him this morning with the biggest shell at my disposal.  Anxiety stumbled and plowed a furrow in a drift before howling off into the woods.  It felt good to shoot back.  Worship packs a punch.  But I'll be out of ammunition soon, I realize, and will need to get more.  In another video?  No, I didn't get that ammunition from the video - I got it from God's Word.  Yes, Louie let me borrow some of his ammo, shared with me through a video, but there is an endless supply right now within arm's reach.

Supplied with ample shells found neatly arranged between the brown leather covers of an ancient book, I intend to blast that old enemy again and again.  I've known that I have the upper hand on Anxiety and can conquer it at any time by tapping into God's infinite supply of peace and strength.  Yet, a simple message was necessary to remind me of what I already know.  I hope you can benefit from it too.

Blizzard Clarity

Clarity - We have some.

Hope that clears things up for ya!

I'm not sure where to begin in telling what God has done through our adoption journey over the last few weeks. . .not sure if it's really necessary to say anything more than, "WOW, our God is amazing!"  That's a fact, but it's especially poignant when He allows us to catch glimpses of that fact.

We've had the driest winter since we moved to California 12 years ago, while many of our family members and friends have endured record-breaking snow and ice storms in the East. This has me thinking how glad I am that I don't have to go out in that mess anymore! Though it has been at least 15 years since I last drove in the snow, I well remember trying to see between snowflakes that reflect headlights with the intensity of the sun. Not fun. Our adoption journey is much like that right now, though a bit more exciting. . .and less life-threatening. :-)

I think of how God has somewhere sent a budding mother on a journey to find us in a terrible blizzard; and at the same time, He has sent us on a journey to find her in that blizzard.  We don't know who she is or how to find her, but He knows right where she is, and He's leading us to the people who know her and can help us. For the last month-and-a-half we have searched diligently for someone to help us find her. We thought we had found that guide, and then we didn't. We almost signed a contract with another guide, but suddenly it looked like maybe we already found her. . .which we hadn't, but then again, maybe we had. Wait, are you as confused as I am?  God's little blizzard blows us along.

Back a few weeks ago, I was a bit disheartened and weary in the journey--yes, already. My once crystal-clear vision for the end of this journey became rather cloudy, and I began to wonder if we had misunderstood. So I kinda pulled a Gideon. "Lord, I'm pretty sure you have the wrong gal, and it would be great if you'd show me that you are leading us on this journey, and we're not going to battle this storm with misguided good intentions. I could use some serious clarity here!"

And He delivered.

The delivery did not come immediately... it took at least a couple of hours for the email to come.  (Ha! Do you need any more proof that God still speaks in the 21st century?)  That unexpected email was the encouragement Scott and I needed to take another step in obedience. Over the last three weeks, that has been what we have done--take the next step, and the next (after another completely unexpected email--are we seeing a trend here?). And now. . . hmmm, here we are, right back to where we were three weeks ago--although with more confidence in our purpose and more appreciation for the patient Shepherd who is guiding us through the blinding snow.

Our Psalm 23 Shepherd, unbothered by the storm, walks quietly with us, knowing right where she is (He is with her, too, after all) AND knowing how we are going to find each other. We can't wait to meet her and warm up by the fire with her, before we head back out into our separate but connected blizzards.