Conflict and the Eventual Resolution

Sorry for the absence.  I fully intended to hope back on with a "Biology Part II" right away.  And that entry does exist.  In the recesses of my brain.

I'm normally a keep quiet, don't over-commit myself sort of person so I can preserve a precious balance at home.  Well, something happened and I keep starting things.  Once I get into October, I'll have a little more perspective and a little more peace, but right now I'm starting a preschool co-op, restarting the Moms' Study Group at church, coordinating a group for an upcoming mud run, and trying to pull our adoption plans from the back burner back to the forefront.  And a couple other little things thrown in too (like finding an ipad game that I'll actually play, err, get totally sucked into (Mathdoku) and the ever present reading for entertainment).  So the ole blog has been a wee bit neglected lately.

Anyway...

Back to the title of this entry:  Conflict and the Eventual Resolution.

Once upon a time, way back in 2008, my hubby and I started the adoption process with our first home study.  And though we agreed on many many points, we disagreed on levels of racial openness.  Our disagreement was a thorn in my side.  Perhaps it should be more apt to say Bryan's inability to accept my point of view as his own caused great discord.  Hey, I'm just being honest here.

Time passed.

The topic of racial openness in adoption has come up again and again over the years.  I must admit, rather than trying to hear out my husband's point of view, I frequently just took everything he said as a personal offense. 

It wasn't.  And his views were valid.  I still disagreed, but I eventually matured to a point that I could see the validity of his opinion.

I think the last time we really hashed out this argument was around our last home study and beginning of our matching process this time around, so late 2012 or early 2013.  And we STILL DISAGREED. 

I did something most unusual for me - I stopped talking about it.  I stopped trying to force him to change his mind.  Instead, I began to pray that when the time was right, he would be open.

Time passed.

A week and a half ago, I read a blog advertising an urgent need for home study qualified adoptive parents.  I followed up on the situation:  an African American baby girl was just born and needed adoptive parents immediately.  Adoptive costs would be between 25k to 30k.

My heart just sunk. 

I still presented the information to Bryan assuming I knew what his response would be.  And I was right.  And wrong.  We don't have that sort of money.  We don't have enough resources to compile that sort of money.  It just wasn't going to happen.  (That's the part I was right on.)

But then I got my proverbial socks knocked off me.  Money was the ONLY STICKING POINT in that scenario; race was not an issue.  And, in further conversation with Bryan, it seemed as if this was old news to him and he had just accidentally forgotten to tell me that we were now on the same page. (!!!!!)

Long story short, we didn't move forward on that scenario but I was reminded once again to never underestimate the power of prayer (though the answers often come in their own time).