I have felt like Zachariah, in Luke 1, these days. Silenced, although so much has been going on: inside me and all around me. I relate to him: devout but doubtful, faithful and fearful. Dear man, left with no words and buckets full of emotion. I can only imagine his soul-laden prayers.
When he opened his mouth and spoke, everyone was amazed. He was praising God, he named his child, and then he prophesied. Okay, so maybe I don’t relate to him all that much…yet. (Watch out).
I don’t have much insight into all the happenings of life for me and my Dan, but there is much to report. Namely, we have entered in to the international adoption world, with one whopping check and mounds of paperwork. And mounds of paperwork. And mounds of paperwork. If you were ever curious about every nook and cranny of your life, there is a process for that: it’s called a home study. It will only cost you a few grand-ish, plus fees to people like the fingerprinter and the psychologist and the local Office of Vital Records personnel.
I am not complaining about the process; I see the point of it all. Really. I am just wondering what the HELL we were thinking. But then again, I am not prophesying yet, so don’t quote me on matters of heaven and hell. We are just busy with the biz and I am a bit bewildered by it all. Here we go little one; cheers to the pregnant years ahead.