Providence

By the time of our scheduled departure - high noon last Friday - it had already been raining, pouring really, for several hours. Streams of water cascaded down our block; water pooled into puddles outside our door. While I love thunderstorms and a good walk in the rain, this was the kind of day which necessitated remaining inside, snug and dry, cherishing a cup of strong, hot coffee appropriately creamed and sweetened (yes, that would be 1 TBS. half and half and five Splenda packets), and reading stories to my children. Jared and I had no other option, however, than to leave the comfort of the house, grab umbrellas and hightail it to the car: We had an appointment for 12:30 to be fingerprinted at the Scott County jail.

Ah yes, round one of adoption paperwork needed to be completed. Besides the fingerprinting, which was $15 per person, and the criminal background checks, which were $13 times three since we have to check both my married and maiden name, we also needed an FBI background check for an additional $36. Grand total for this round: $105. While I am not unfamiliar with adoption expenses, each time I start adding up numbers and signing checks, my chest tightens and I begin to feel a wee bit anxious. And so when I opened up a card sent by dear friends last Wednesday and found a check for $100 as a contribution for baby number four, I was incredulous and thanked God for making Himself known through this concrete gift and once again providing for our needs.

Inspired and humbled by our friends who once again are willingly and generously donating items for our upcoming garage sale fundraiser, I have launched into rummaging through cabinets and closets in order to purge our own house of excess and forgotten items. Sitting in a basement cabinet was our old microwave, which was rendered irrelevant three years ago when we moved into our home with its built-in microwave. Though knowing we would more than likely never have a use for this convenience, I have been reticent to ship it off to Goodwill and even include it for the garage sale for primarily sentimental reasons. You see, the microwave was a wedding shower gift, kindly given to Jared and I nearly twelve years ago by the women of the church in which we were married. So on Wednesday afternoon, I called Cheryl, the "hostess" (manager) of the St. Joseph Catholic Worker House whom I met two months ago. "Would a microwave be useful at St. Joseph's?" I questioned. Perhaps it was because I was drained at that particular moment, but when Cheryl excitedly responded that there just happened to be a woman in transitional housing who had nothing to cook with and who could most certainly use a microwave, I nearly lost my composure and wept on the phone.

Last Sunday afternoon, Jared and I had the pleasure of attending the wedding of a lovely young couple from our church. Throughout the ceremony, the various priests officiating the Orthodox wedding service invoked prayers of blessings, harkening back to men and women of faith whom God had called: the Patriarchs and their wives - Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebekah, Jacob and Rachel - the aged couple Joachim and Anna whom God granted a child, Mary, the Theotokos, and the Priest Zechariah and his barren wife Elizabeth who were also bestowed a child who would serve as the forerunner of the Christ. Likewise prayers of protection were offered for Frank and Juliana that like Noah in the ark, Jonah in the belly of the fish, and the Three Holy Youths who were cast into a furnace of fire, they too would be preserved from harm. Instead of the vows typical to most Western marriage ceremonies, crowns of flowers were placed upon the couples heads symbolizing not only the crowns they wear as the king and queen of their home, but more importantly the crowns of the martyrs; that by dying to themselves for the sake of each other, they would bear witness to Christ's love for us while also helping their beloved work out his or her salvation. Once again I found myself a bit teary. (Jared admitted he got a bit teary, too.)

What I appreciated when I first began learning about the Orthodox Church and what I continue to love as I experience the richness and fullness of this ancient Faith is that while God is passionately concerned about our individual lives - so much so that sometimes money or microwaves arrive with miraculous timing - ultimately my significance is to be found as simply a small part of the larger story. You see, I cannot do any of this on my own but desperately need the visible manifestations of God so clearly revealed every time I receive an act of kindness, compassion, and love. You, my brother and sister, are my life; there is no me without you.