God Can. And God will.

I watched them from the kitchen, my stomach in knots.

It had been less than 12 hours since we’d gotten the call.

We’d debated, before any calls came through, if we’d wait to open our home until we’d checked off some of our summer plans, but God convicted my heart greatly about my timeline.

Would I selfishly choose my own, or submit to His?

And, as we all happen to know, God’s thoughts are not ours, and His ways are higher, too.

So we said yes.

Dropped the girls off at a friend’s house and about an hour and half later, we left the hospital with a baby in tow.

And for the first time in my life, believe it or not, I’ve had a hard time putting my feelings to words.

I’ve also had virtually no time to do so.

Except for tonight. Four days in, and the Lord knows I needed it.

To type, and backspace, and let tears run down my face as words flow from my heart.

Because I didn’t know what I was getting myself into.

Just like the first time I held my tiny daughter in my arms, I didn’t know what I was getting myself into.

Or the second time.

Or this time.

I had expectations. I’d talked to people. Watched it take place at arm’s length. Done the trainings. Prayed. Read. Asked lots of questions.

But that night, in the darkness of my bedroom, alone with a tiny stranger, my sick husband sleeping on the couch, I felt it.

The weight and gravity, pressing down on my chest in ways I’ve never experienced before.

A tiny life that I’m now responsible for. A tiny person who had no choice in the matter, curled up in my arms. Foreign arms that felt completely and utterly helpless.

We made it through the night. The extremely long night, and as I watched my children marvel at the precious new life the next morning, I wondered, “How am I going to do this?”

And the answer was simple.

I’m not.

I do not have enough strength in all my frame to shoulder this heavy load. To adequately care for these children. To perfectly meet all of their needs and requests.

I am too weak and feeble and frail.

I cannot do this.

But God can. And God will.

I don’t know how He will, and I’m trying my best not to even figure it out right now.

But I know He will hold me up after another sleepless night. And I know He is keeping track of the endless trail of tears that seep from my eyes when I have a second of alone time. I know He is hearing every desperate plea of my heart as I feel like I’m barely keeping my head above the waters. And I know He is aware of every single concern bouncing around in my head.

Most of all, I know that He has plan and is working it out for my good.

For our good.

And for their good, too.

Even though it’s really messy. And hard. And gut-wrenchingly ugly.

God has already written out the days before us. And despite my current feelings, I know I’m going to look back and marvel at what He will do. Because hindsight, for the believer, is always a highlight reel of God's great mercy and miracles.