Accomplishing the Impossible

Lately, I’ve been feeling a bit stressed.

And what’s scary is that this is only a taste of what’s to come. 

Once we’re in the throes of our adoption, and once my book hits shelves, life is only going to get crazier. And to add to the craziness, we recently learned that my hubs is a kidney match for his younger brother. There’s a very real possibility that in four or five months, Ryan will undergo major surgery so he can give one of his kidneys away.

There was a two day span where I felt like my brain was in constant fast-forward. Juggling a million thoughts. And my mind kept nursing the impossibility of it all.

Everything that’s about to happen in our lives felt impossible.

The adoption is going to cost significant money.

If Ryan goes through with this surgery (he’s not the only match), he’ll be out of work for six weeks.  

Not to mention the surgery would take place right when my book releases, which is going to be an insanely busy (albeit fun) time.

So yeah. My mind was whirling. And whirling. And whirling. Trying to figure out how it’s all going to work. And the more my brain whirled, the more I realized how absolutely prone I am to anxiety. The more I realized how much Satan relishes in our convoluted, circle-spinning worries. 

Because the minute we take our eyes off Jesus and focus on the what-ifs, is the minute we turn into Peter. Walking on water one second. Sinking like a rock the next. So focused on the impossible waves that we lose sight of the One who can calm them with a snap of His finger. So focused on the impossible waves that we freak out and get back in the boat.

But then what?

What glory is there to be had for God when I curl up in the boat? 

How will I experience the nonsensical, paranormal, mind-blowing POWER of Jesus Christ when I tackle only what can be done through my own feeble strength?

So there we were. Ryan and I. Rocking back and forth, back and forth about all that’s going down. The adoption. Kidney transplant. Finances. The adoption. Kidney transplant. Finances. Going absolutely nowhere. Trying to figure it all out in our tiny, finite minds. Until Ryan said, “What do you think God would say to us right now?”

Even now, several days later, I can still feel Him peeling our fingers away from the control we grasp so tightly in our white-knuckled fists. I can still hear Him whisper.

Trust me. I’ve got this. 

And He does. He’s got it. 

So I will take a deep breath. I will keep my eye on Jesus. And I will trust that the crazier the waves, the more glory He will get should He enable us to walk on them.

Let’s Talk: What waves has God enabled you to walk on in your life? How do you keep your focus on Him instead of the worries? 

photo by KIJones

A New Journey for the Ganshert Family

“God is looking for people through whom He can do the impossible. What a pity when we plan only the things we can do by ourselves.” -A.W. Tozer

Seven years ago, I watched Brad Pitt travel to Africa on Primetime Live. It’s kind of silly. That this special feature with Diane Sawyer, in a region I didn’t much think about, would alter my heart so profoundly. But it did.

After watching, I couldn’t get Africa out of my head. An entire continent, ravaged by war, poverty, and AIDS, planted itself like a seed in my heart. I went through this long phase where I told my brand-spankin’ new husband that I wanted to move to Africa, find the nearest orphanage, and love on kids all day.

If Ryan was scared his wife was going all missionary on him, he never let on.

But the seed was there. I felt inexplicably pulled to a continent I knew very little about. To a whole race of people I’d never officially met.

Looking back, I can see that God puts His plans in motion long before we have any clue.

It was around this time, during my Africa-fever, that I found out my church would be traveling to Nairobi, Kenya for two and a half weeks to do HIV/AIDS outreach. They were gathering a team to go. And I knew, with absolute certainty, that I wanted to be on that team. I wasn’t a doctor. I didn’t have much to offer in the ways of medicine. But I had two hands and a heart that yearned to help.

So I went. A year after hubby and I got married, I boarded a plane with several others, flew across the Atlantic ocean, and landed in Nairobi. I spent two and a half weeks meeting women I’ll never forget. Two and a half weeks with a flock of little black children swarming around me, rubbing my skin, calling me Mzungu. Two and a half weeks driving around in a Matatu learning random words in Swahili.

I came home a different person. If Africa was a seed before the trip, it had turned into a tree after. With roots and limbs and leaves. I loved that continent. And that love transformed into words. Words upon words upon words. So many that I had to get them out. So I sat down and wrote my first novel. A story about two high school students who travel to Kenya.

But life did what life does. It took over. And the leaves turned colors and eventually fell away.

I still thought about Africa. My heart broke for what was happening in Darfur. I taught my 5th grade students about the civil war ravaging Uganda and the Congo. Where Joseph Kony and his rebel army would raid villages and do unimaginable things to the men, women, and children. Oh Lord, especially the children. Africa was still in my heart. It just didn’t pulse as strongly as it once had.

My obsession with Africa morphed into an obsession with writing. A dream to be published, to share my stories. Which, as any writer can attest, is incredibly time consuming. So time consuming that I couldn’t be the wife and mother and writer I wanted to be while working full time. So after much prayer, I left my job. I left behind my salary. We knew God was calling us to step out in faith. Would we trust that where He leads, He’ll also provide?

I won’t pretend it wasn’t terrifying. But we listened and obeyed. And God has provided. In amazing, amazing ways. We’ve experienced His provision. 

But something I’m learning about God, is that He likes to keep us on our toes. The Christian life isn’t meant to be comfortable. So I shouldn’t have been surprised when a couple months into our new routine, with me as stay-at-home mom, something started to happen. 

A slow and steady stirring in my heart. A slow and steady stirring in my husband’s. A soft whisper that sounded something like this, “I have a blessing I want to give you. It’s not going to be easy. Will you trust me? Will you follow?”

I’m not one to say God speaks audibly. That’s just not my experience with faith. I’m a gal who thinks God speaks through His Living Word and through other believers. But this nudge we were feeling in our spirit was undeniable. 

We couldn’t push it away.

God was asking us to adopt. 

I wrestled with Him. I argued, “What if I can’t love an adopted child as much as my biological one?”

God replied, “Don’t make this about you, Katie.”

I wrestled with Him. I argued, “Do you know how much adoption costs? It’s insane. I just lost my salary. There’s no way we’ll come up with the money.”

God replied, “I provided before. Don’t you think I’ll do it again?”

He put people in our lives who could never be coincidence. He gave our pastor words that spoke directly to our situation. We could not deny it. We no longer wanted to. God’s love for the orphan had penetrated our hearts until they broke for the fatherless.  

So we started to research. Foster care. Domestic. Private. International.

And that tree in my soul? That African tree that had lost its leaves? It grew buds. And the buds turned into vibrant green. Africa came back. With a passion, it came back. And I was left in awe that God was at work in my heart long before adoption was even a blip on my radar. At work in my heart through a Diane Sawyer interview with Brad Pitt. That even then, God knew His plans for my family. That although I never moved to an African orphanage, perhaps I could bring a child home from one. 

So after an insane amount of research. After meeting another couple with the same desire (you can find their blog here). After a dead end that led us somewhere different. Ryan and I filled out the application for Lifeline Adoption Agency. We applied for their Congo program. Last week, we were accepted. We’ve signed the papers and sent in the first payment. And now we start our journey. 

This crazy, insane, beautiful journey.

I’m holding on to this loosely. At least I’m trying. The Congo program is new. The country is at war. AIDS is running rampant. Nothing is a guarantee. We still have home studies and fundraising and all number of other things to pass through. But there’s a very real possibility that in 12-15 months, I will be returning to Africa. This time with my husband. This time to the Congo. This time to meet our son or daughter.

Let’s Talk: Tell me about a time when God spoke to you about something big. And because this journey is scaring me just a little bit silly…..if you have any great fundraising ideas, please share! 

Thank you Holly for sending me these pics! I can’t believe that trip was over six years ago!