We were sitting at dinner when a thought marched itself across my forehead and stopped above my eyebrows: I want to go to Disney World.
This desire gets in line behind a table that seats twelve, quartz countertops, our teensy master bathroom to miraculously enlarge by a factor of 10… and a headboard. (We’re too old not to have a headboard, don’t you think?) Long ago, we decided to live within our means, so although every need is met, the list of wants can get long. So long, in fact, the sincerity of this puerile idea took me aback.
My daughter was four when she first fell in love with Minnie Mouse. After learning Minnie lived at Disney, (how do kids learn these things?) getting there became of utmost concern. Being ever so clever, I told my sweet child we’d wait till she and her brother were older. We’ll go when you’re ten.
Ten seemed, and stayed, really far away for a really long time. By the time ten rolled around, I figured we’d live in a place where mortgages didn’t eat paychecks and our life, in general, would be comfortable.
The date came up at dinner, and my daughter exclaimed, “Hey! It’s my half birthday today!”
“Yep. Sure is!” I said.
Oh my goodness. It’s her half birthday.
She, the child who patiently waited for six years while every one of her friends has gone, who fell out of love with Minnie but found other reasons to go, who doesn’t even ask because Mom said we’ll go when I’m ten, will be ten in six months.
I’ve made no plans and have no intention to. This is why the crystal clear thought, an admission really, catches me off guard.
We are a family of five now, and “Doing Disney” is no small thing.
Adoption has been a part of my story since I was young, as I have four adopted first cousins. In time, a tiny seed rooted and grew into a tender spot for adoption to be a part of my own little family’s story. Although, we’ve supported adopting friends, my heart would not settle until I admitted what I already knew: I want to adopt.
There is power in accepting the desires of your heart — especially when they are planted there by something beyond you.
It made no sense for us to adopt. We have three children and four small bedrooms. Everyone is healthy and happy. We just started to feel settled. We don’t have that kind of money laying around. Yet my heart would trip over itself, too often and too hard for it to be coincidence, whenever adoption came up. God’s fingerprints were all over this.
… To read the remainder of this essay, please click on Coffee + Crumbs where I’m honored for it to be published.