“We have walked through hard before. This is just a different type of hard. God will continue to provide what we need.”
I didn’t mean this hard wouldn’t hurt.
It did.
It does.
I meant that we had history with God.
That thought came back to me while reading Philippians 4.
I found myself seeing something of Kevin and me in the passage.
Not in Paul’s circumstances, but in this idea of partnership. Of giving and receiving. Of needs being met again and again.
I thought back to Jillian.
Before she was even born, while we were walking through her prenatal diagnosis, I remember hardly being able to contain my excitement over the possibility that Down syndrome might become part of our story.
That probably didn’t make sense to everyone.
But somehow, it felt like God was placing something in front of us and inviting us to step toward it.
Then there was Ben.
A little boy in the foster care system who happened to have Down syndrome.
And there were all these little details that made me smile.
Our children had somehow fallen into a boy, girl, boy, girl, boy, girl pattern.
Ben would be the next boy.
Our family already had birthdays in February, March, April, August—two of them—September, October, and November.
Ben’s was in May.
And the social worker overseeing his case had been closely involved with our family since we first began the foster care process.
None of it was proof.
But together, it felt like reassurance.
Like God smiling in the details.
So we stepped toward him.
Then came a phone call in January 2020.
“Are you still interested in adopting your niece’s three children?”
In itself, that question held a very long story.
Kevin and I looked at each other.
“Here we go again.”
And apparently the little details weren’t finished.
Those three children continued the boy-girl pattern.
Their birthdays were in January, April, and June.
Suddenly, between our family birthdays, our nation’s birthday in July, and celebrating Jesus’s birth in December, every month had something to celebrate.
Twice in the months beginning with “A.”
Again, not proof.
Not a formula.
Just one more detail that made us smile.
Okay, God. We see You.
Here we go again.
Over the years, we had learned to step toward the opportunities God placed before us—and to trust Him when an unexpected twist in the road was something we never would have chosen.
Not because we knew what we were doing.
Not because we were unusually brave.
And definitely not because every yes was easy.
We learned that when God allowed a twist in the road to become part of our journey, He would meet us on it.
That is what I hear differently now when I read Philippians 4.
I almost find myself rewriting verse 15 in my own words:
“Few have entered into partnership with me in giving and receiving, except You.”
And verse 16:
“Even with the next challenge, You sent help for my needs once and again.”
Those aren’t Paul’s words.
They’re mine.
But they describe our experience with God.
Again and again, He has provided.
Through people.
Through circumstances we never could have arranged.
Through strength we didn’t have the day before.
And sometimes simply through enough grace for that particular day.
Then comes this humbling statement:
“Not that I seek the gift, but I seek the fruit that increases to your credit.” Philippians 4:17
Maybe the story was never simply about God getting us through hard things.
Maybe it is also about what He grows through them.
Because after enough years of walking roads we never planned, these words become more than a familiar verse:
“I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.” Philippians 4:13
And this becomes more than a promise we hope is true:
“My God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:19
We have watched Him do it.
Child after child.
Challenge after challenge.
Yes after yes.
Which brings me back to that drive up the mountain.
“We have walked through hard before. This is just a different type of hard. God will continue to provide what we need.”
I could say that because God had already spent years teaching us Who would be walking it with us.
Maybe that is where contentment comes from.
Not believing life will be easy.
Not having everything figured out.
But knowing that contentment is rooted in Christ, who sustains us in every season.
Every season.
Even this one.
Real life. Real faith. Finding the good God can bring through difficult, ordinary, beautiful, complicated life.
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