Not your everyday delivery room

There are so many differences between adoption and pregnancy. (there are also many similarities, but that’s another blog) One biggie is that our delivery rooms look pretty different. For those that are adopting our delivery rooms change pretty often. And can be a lot bigger than those found in most hospitals. My current delivery room is about the size of the entire state of Alabama and a good chunk of Georgia. Let me explain…

Like most people, I love the show Friends. I love every character, every perfect comeback and retort, every single one of Phoebe’s one liners. I love it all. (But I HATE the fact that I’m Ross on this show. Those of you that know me can instantly see this. I’m whiny, dramatic, over enunciate words, and I’m always talking about educational junk that no one cares about.) But I especially love the unconditional friendship that those six people have for each other. They are there for each other no matter what. Even through the awful seasons after “The Break.” I can’t even pick a favorite character because I think they’re each so necessary to the group’s survival. They rally around each other. There are several moments when that show gets really real. When Monica and Chandler go through their fertility struggles is the obvious one for me. But their people were always there for them. I always wanted grown up friends like that. Friends that did everything together and were there through it all. Making friends is so much more difficult the older you get. Age makes your awkwardness weirder and life makes you jaded and self centered. It just seems so much more difficult now than in high school. But I think it’s the friendship that makes this show so appealing. We crave strong relationships.

And I’ve got them.

Some of the best advice I can give from my extensive 28 years on this earth is to get you some praying friends. Friends that set timers to pray at the same time on your behalf when you’re all apart. Friends that text you throughout a difficult day just to tell you they prayed for you. Friends that drop what they’re doing to petition the mightiest God because you’re struggling. Friends that stop you mid sentence, grab hands, and pray for you right then and there. Friends that rally. Get you some praying friends. There isn’t anything better on this earth.

Friends will either tear you down and let you die like Job’s or lay you down at the feet of Jesus like that paralyzed man in Mark 2. Too many of us have “friends” like Job’s. People who initially are there for us. Who sit with us seven days and nights for they see that our suffering is very great. (Job 2:13) But when those seven days extend and more heartache befalls they lose their comforting tactics, their empathy, and patience. They’re good earthly friends who are there for us sometimes but who severely lack the strength and sacrifice when the going gets tough. Ones who care very little about what matters most – our eternal soul. We need roof demolishing friends. Friends who value your soul and where you’ll spend eternity above anything else. Ones who believe in you and love you enough to straight up tear the roof off this joint for you. Ones who carry you when the world has broken you and lay you down with the One who can heal you. The Bible doesn’t specifically use the term “friend” in Mark 2:1-12. But these four men mentioned here are carrying around a paralytic. That’s not an easy task. I don’t go around toting people that I care nothing for. These four men were also carrying the paralytic for a purpose. To a specific destination. They were taking him to be healed. When they saw the home was too full and they couldn’t get close enough to Jesus, “they removed the roof above him, and when they had made an opening, they let down the bed.” There had to be some kind of special connection to keep the men striving for their paralyzed companion. I think friendship isn’t too far of a leap here. I think it’s also important to point out that Jesus saw “their” faith. (v.5) Not just the paralyzed man’s faith. But all of his little group’s. Get you roof tearing friends.

Friends that bring you Little Caesar’s because the waiting has made you weary and taken its toll on your heart this month. Friends who literally set timers to cover you in prayer right at the time of your doctor’s appointments. Friends who give up their weekend to host the biggest yard sale of the century. Twice.

Friends that turn into family and family that is more like friends. That is the key to success. Love people and let people love you. So that the lines between family and friends is so blurred it doesn’t even matter anymore.

Making friends like I’ve described is NOT an easy thing to do. It requires sacrifice and openness on all accounts. Two things that don’t come naturally to a lot of people.

Pride is such a jerk of an emotion. It makes us think we’re doing right. Pride often makes us work hard. To give all that we have. Makes us want to do a good job. Because if I’m going to put my name to it I want it to be as close to perfect as I can get it. But pride makes us do things for all the wrong reasons. Pride gives off the illusion of sacrifice all the while lying straight to our faces. It makes us think we have to do everything on our own. Making us believe we’ve got it much worse than everyone else. That we have to work so much harder. Pride makes us question like Martha in Luke 10:40. Look at how hard we’re working. Look at us over here doing right while other people are living footloose and fancy free. Pride makes us feel like we’re supposed to live overwhelmed and frazzled lives. Because we’re supposed to handle everything on our own. Pride leads us straight to complaining while never allowing us to stop and ask for help.

Pride is such a jerk.

I think of all the sins that could’ve been avoided if we hadn’t let pride win. How many less times would satan have won if we’d decided to lean on others instead of ourselves. If we’d been there for others instead of living a trivial, self-focused life. Stop listening to pride. Stop listening to jerk emotions. Stop thinking you have to live this life on your own. Or even within your own family.

There are a lot of good people out there. But we never give them a chance. We say “They’ll never understand my situation or the battle I’m facing because their life is perfect.” Bologna. I certainly don’t live a perfect life, but there are also a lot of tragedies I haven’t faced yet. There are a lot that I have faced. I don’t have to personally experience your exact struggle to be able to understand. I’ve never been stabbed in the throat and I understand a lot about that. I fully understand the severity of that situation. I understand that pain and death that will most likely accompany an action of that sort. We don’t have to directly relate to an exact situation to be able to help. And that’s the point. Tell me so I can help. Tell someone so you can be helped. Creating roof demolishing friends is a two way street. You’ve got to have participation from everyone.

You need prayers? Tell someone. You need money? Tell someone. You need someone to study with you so you can fight a particular sin? Tell someone. You need a babysitter. Tell someone. It’s so much easier for 100 people to give $10 than for one person to come up with $1000. (at least in my house it is)

Take it from me, people help. People will rally for you. But you have to let them in. I opened up my delivery room to my family, friends, church, and even complete strangers and they rocked my socks off. At our last yard sale we had three enclosed trailers full of items people had donated (that doesn’t include any of the items that were in our cars. I lost count of how many carloads we had filled in our convoy). People from my hometown, Page’s hometown, both the school’s we teach at, and especially our church cleaned out their houses to find things to donate. This yard sale was a sight to behold. Whatever you’re imagining, I promise it was bigger. It was also 1000 degrees. And my friends worked. All throughout the night Friday and all day Saturday. They worked for me. They worked to make my desire come true. They thought nothing of themselves. They only thought about helping. I’ve seen what opening up your delivery room can do. I’ve been given a $100 bill from a complete stranger simply because they saw our yard sale was an adoption fundraiser. They didn’t buy a thing. They just “wanted to help a worthy cause.” I’ve had women who didn’t even know my name share their fertility struggles. These interloping yard sale junkies added Page and I and our future little baby to their prayer list without a second thought. People are good.

So on this particular Saturday my delivery room was full. Full of family, friends, and strangers that all banded together for a selfless common good – to help. People all across the South have us and our adoption adventure on their prayer list. They pick Page and I up and lay us and our burdens down at the feet of Jesus. And lately our load has been heavy. So very heavy. But I’m going to let them carry me for a while. And I’m going to look for every opportunity to return the favor.

I’ve got roof demolishing friends when the rains starts to pour.

Originally posted July 2017