the good news

Ten and a half years ago I fell in love with my husband over email. I didn't know what he looked like (aside from a couple of corny photos) and he lived thousands of miles away, but he was vulnerable and passionate, creative and funny, authentic and faithful. He knew what he wanted - a love-filled life that included a life partner, music, adventure and kids. I remember specifically that he loved the idea of adopting children.

Andrew was a third, inconvenient and unwanted child, who spent his Italian adolescence, more in less, in the home of his best friend Silvio. What Andrew remembers most about this experience is Silvio's loving and welcoming parents, who essentially adopted Andrew into their home as they had legally adopted Silvio and his sister. Here, without any blood connection, Andrew experienced love and grace. It marked his life forever.

For years we have toyed with the idea of adopting. As much as we have theoretically liked the thought, we've never had the money. It's never been the right time. The leap from theory to reality has seemed impossible. Scary at the very least. But the nagging thought never leaves us.

Nothing has changed, really. Except that God has now gone from whispering to outright shouting in our ears.

A couple months ago, I discovered I was pregnant. It was utterly shocking and terrifying and then, quite quickly, insanely exciting. We did not have maternity insurance, but who cares? Of course we'd come up with the money. Of course the timing was fine. Of course I'm not too old. Then, after 8 weeks, I wasn't pregnant anymore. Instead of being sad, we see those two months as a beautiful gift—an opportunity to know that whatever excuse we could come up with, it was irrelevant if a child could be welcomed into our home.

So, the Bordoni family is beginning our adoption journey. We have no idea how we'll pay for it. We have rooms to clean out and lives to reschedule. We hope not to be hobbling on canes when our kids finally graduate and marry. But none of these barriers really matter when our hearts have been captured. After all, that's how this incredible journey of love began ten and a half years ago. The direction seems outlandish, but God shouts in our ears "This way!" and we follow. As our pastor said on Sunday, being Easter people doesn't mean we go on vacation. It means we go to our Galilee—the sometimes uncomfortable, uncertain, messy and dangerous place where we're called to love and serve. And it means that Jesus goes ahead of us. So even though we have no idea how we're going to do it, we know there's going to be a way. And this, my friends, is the good news.