hello, my name is dad.

I really didn't want to do it.

I had to build a stage in the chapel at Wheaton Academy. I had to refinish the basement within two months. I had to finish a massive simulation for my U.S. Military History class. I had to work on developing a new role at Wheaton Academy. I had to make sure I was creating formative and summative assessments for each one of my classes.

I had to cook dinner and pay bills for crying out loud. Yes, I am the chef of the house.

These were just some of the thoughts running through my head as my lovely wife was proposing this idea (for real this time, it seemed) to adopt a little boy named Vladislav from Eastern Europe. I did not have warm fuzzy feelings enveloping my body, taking me to a place of epiphany where angels sang from on high, "Yes, Josh! Yes! This is the way!"

I had feelings of nervousness, frustration, stress, anger, and, most of all, guilt. Guilt that this idea of adoption was not an automatic "yes" in my mind. I simply did not feel at peace about this whole thing.

I told Corbett I would pray about it.

And so I did.

Kind of.

I found myself praying those prayers that you spout off real quick as you are just pulling into work when you realize you forgot to pray that morning. The, "dearlordthankyousomuchforthisdayandmyfamilypleasegivemeagooddayandgivemeguidanceonVlad. Amen." type of prayer. An, "all talk" prayer, if you will. I was talking to God but not listening at all to what he had to say. It was like I was talking to someone while having my fingers in my ears at the same time.

After about a week, I still didn't feel at peace about the whole thing. But I realized why that nagging feeling of guilt still remained. I hadn't really prayed about it. I could technically say that I had prayed about adopting Vlad but in reality I had not. So I took a deep breath, told Corbett I was still thinking, and genuinely approached the next week with an open heart of prayer.

Then, a few nights later, I awoke to a strange glow emanating from the corner of our bedroom. As I sat up with great anticipation, an angel appeared holding a sign that said, "BURICK. ADOPT VLAD. IMMEDIATELY. I WILL FINISH THE BASEMENT."

Ok, not really...

Of course, I wish God would communicate with me that clearly on a daily basis and I was certainly hoping that was going to be the delivery method of His choice during my decision making process, but alas, it was a bit less dramatic than that. After praying and listening, praying and listening, the negative feelings I had were replaced with a sense of peace that is really hard to describe. And what is fascinating is that sense of peace has never left me. Even as I sit here in an apartment in a city whose name I still can't pronounce, the same feeling of assurance is present within my soul. It was not a dramatic answer to prayer. But it was an answer that has given me unshakable faith that this is where we are supposed to be.

Ever since that point in late August when I was enveloped by the warmth of God's calling, there has never been a point where I have felt unduly stressed by this whole process. Sure, there was a time or two (the fingerprinting incident or the possibility of a particular government changing the entire adoption process) where I felt a butterfly or two in my stomach. But in all honesty, I have sold out to the idea that God is in control and has a plan for my life and my familiy's life that is for the best. And if that is the case, what do I have to worry about? How is stress going to change things? In the week leading up to our departure to get Vlad, I had a number of people at Wheaton Academy ask me, "Are you nervous? Are you freaking out?" I honestly answered, time and time again, "Not really..." I am not in control...God is. And that is a very, very good thing.

Pretty sweet. And pretty sweet that I have two boys that love the iPad as much as I do...