Family Stories
It’s Mothers’ Week: Waiting for Isaac
It has taken me a while to sit down and write this post, but I believe the hesitation is linked to a very important lesson God wanted to teach me today.
I have been wrestling with my feelings and wrestling with God. There are so many unknowns to this story and I have struggled to trust God with the answers. I’ve asked Him repeatedly why He allowed J-bug to fit so perfectly into our family and then have her taken away from us? Why something ‘felt’ different about this precious child and yet that ‘feeling’ led to empty arms? Why He gave me a mother’s heart and yet I feel unable to use it? I cannot adequately describe the pain I felt watching my social worker drive away with Little J. The heaviness of my heart clashed against the emptiness of my arms. The quiet that night was deafening. The little world I had created dissolved before my eyes.
We never set out to adopt this baby. I know that. She was supposed to stay with us for a short time only. We allowed ourselves to dream and fall in love and I allowed myself to play ‘mommy’ in my mind. We foolishly ‘created’ a family of three when that was never the plan. How I wish that was the plan, but evidently, despite trying everything, our princess had to move on, as she was always meant to do.
Even though I know all of this to be true, I have struggled to find any peace about the situation. When my other three babies left, I felt incredibly sad and yet I knew they were meant for other families and so my heart was at rest. This time, my heart was at war with logic and it did a real number on my emotions.
Do I believe Terence and I would have been fantastic parents to little J?
Yes.
Have I been allowing myself to dream that maybe my social worker would phone us and bring J back, or J’s birth mother would somehow find out about us and want her daughter to come and live with us?
Yes.
Do I realise that by holding on to these futile dreams, I am harming myself, upsetting my husband and trying to manipulate God?
Ashamedly, yes!
On Sunday night, Terence and I had a heart-to-heart. It was good and it was hard. I needed to hear my husband’s wise words. I realise that by fighting the process I am robbing myself of the time to properly heal and feel sad about missing J. I am allowed to be sad. I am allowed to miss her. I am allowed to cry. I am not allowed to torture myself and undermine God’s plan in this situation by refusing to acknowledge His sovereignty. I refuse to undo the wonderful thing that happened in our home, where a little girl was loved and cherished and given a good start to life, and where we were blessed abundantly by having her with us. I refuse to allow the hurt to mar this process and prevent us from caring for other children in need. I will not let what we did be in vain.
This brings me to today’s lesson. God is showing me His grace in many ways, dear friends. The Monday after J left I started another part-time job. My boss is a Christian who has a passion for the vulnerable and the lost. God has used him to help me understand His nature better over these past few weeks and I have been very blessed by our conversations. Today I admitted to my boss that I just didn’t understand why I couldn’t be J’s mother and why, despite my gifts in this area, I am not a mother at all.
And then he said something very profound.
“Julie, you need to ask God to give you an Isaac and you need to be willing to wait for him. You cannot create a family your way. It has to be God’s way.”
boom, light bulb on.
Sarah and Abraham were desperate for a child. They doubted they would ever have a son and yet God gave them Isaac in His perfect time, despite their doubts and yet acknowledging their desire to be parents.
I realised that I tried to create a family with J in it, based on what I want and not what God wants. I have refused to trust God and have allowed myself to forget that He is good to His people. I diminish the blessings God gives me by comparing myself to others. I have been wearing clothes of entitlement, believing that I deserve a child because I’d be such a good mother (I’m embarrassed to have to type that last sentence). And I have been unfairly angry at God for not giving me the desire of my heart on my schedule.
pfft…lesson learnt, God. You are clearly a better organiser and life-planner than I am
And so I am going to pray for my ‘Isaac’.
That the Lord will bless us with a child/ children through adoption or the old fashioned way when He desires. His timeline, not mine.
That I will trust in His goodness.
That I will be patient (Julie weakness alert!)
And in the mean time, that He will draw our hearts nearer to His.
That He will allow me to expand my definition of ‘mother’ to include a role so much bigger than our nuclear family.
And expand my capacity to love people.
To be used for His glory.
And to be content.
(art by erin leigh, click image to see store)
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Julie Mentor
Julie and her husband, Terence, live In Cape Town, South Africa and they have been married for 2 and a half years. Julie studied print journalism but works in both the non-profit and corporate sector, while Terence is a radio ‘guy’ who constantly gets asked if his afro is real… It is. Julie got drawn into working with the foster care system, when she was asked by a social worker friend to look after a 4-week old baby boy for ‘one month’ during her varsity vacation. 5 years later, that little boy is her parent’s pride and joy and her mischievous baby brother. As of last year, Julie and Terence are registered temporary safety parents for children awaiting adoption. Julie blogs over at caramellaclan.wordpress.com where she chronicles her daily life as well as the joys and struggles of being a ‘temporary parent’.
I Heart Open Adoption
Rebekah (our birth mother, if you’re just tuning in) and I (also Rebekah) are both back to work and have full schedules right now. Gone are the days of talking weekly, blogging regularly, and sharing pictures and videos back and forth, often. We do the best we can, but it seems that weeks go by before we have a block of time to call and catch up.
I headed to bed early last night, in hopes to gear up for this coming week of work, but I was missing Rebekah and decided to call her instead. The time difference makes it difficult and although I set out to only talk an hour, we chatted well past two.
Friends come in a variety. Some are needy, some are high-maintenance, some walk in and out over time, some are there everyday/through every mundane detail, and some are glued to your heart, unfettered by time or distance. Rebekah is the latter. It doesn’t matter how much time passes, we always pick up right where we left off, sharing about work and kids and life.
It will never get old.
She is my son’s mother. I’ve said it before; there is something so unique that happens when two mothers love one son. We’re able to laugh and cry and enjoy Ty together as he experiences all his firsts. It’s as natural as life. It’s not weird or awkward or strained. I don’t have to hold back my true feelings in fear of hers and there’s a mutual respect in what we’ve done for each other. I know everyone doesn’t get this. I know it looks too good to be true. I’ve had haters write subsequent posts about me and our relationship and they question the authenticity. It doesn’t bother me. I know what we have – what we are experiencing – and it’s only made possible through God’s grace.
Last night, we laughed over Ty’s tendency to throw premature temper tantrums and agreed on the importance of reading to him. We gushed over his cuteness and were thankful for the closeness he shares with his daddy. We talked about his early rising pattern, which Rebekah admitted was a trend in her other kids. To that I jokingly exclaimed, “So, you’re responsible for this!?”
Like all moms, we think he’s the smartest, cutest, most advanced baby of his time and think he has the perfect blend of biology and family.
The three of us are flying out to reunite with Rebekah and her family, this April. I was so excited last night, I had a hard time falling asleep. The Bible talks about talents and the importance of using and sharing them versus burying them away to be hidden forever. That’s sort of how we (Ben and I) view Tyrus. Apart from Christ, he is the greatest treasure we’ve been given. We don’t want to keep him close to home in fear of what may happen. We want to share him and expose him to the world. We want him to be bonded with his first family and are joy-filled that he has the opportunity to know them. We can’t wait for our trip and to show everyone how much he’s grown!
Because there are so many instances in which God seems absent or his presence hard to find, it’s important to make a raucous when we can undeniably see his hand of goodness. When I look at the revolution that has taken place in my heart, the connections that God made to bring us our son, the relationship we have with Rebekah and her kids and extended family, and the ever present smiles on that crazy-haired little boy of mine, I say – GOD, YOU ARE GOOD.
And I say it rather loud.
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Rebekah
Next to my faith walk, I am a wife and mother first. My husband and I have been married ten years and have two incredibly, tender sons, Tyrus and LJ.
Our boys are essentially twins, yet neither boy was born from my belly. We adopted sweet Ty (domestically) in 2009 and have a wide-open relationship with his birth family. LJ was also born in the summer of 2009, but came to our family, this year, as a ward of the state (via foster care). Our hearts and abilities have been stretched to capacity, but God is moving, filling, and redefining family for all of us. Follow along on our journey.
Love is Enough in Adoption…But Can You Love This Way?
Love is enough in adoption.
Which is a statement that should have 50% of my friends making a double take and starting to panic that I have learned NOTHING so far in our adoption journey and gone around some sort of serious mental health corner. Hear me out on this one (and stop smiling Twisted Sisters…I said STOP!)
Love is enough in adoption.
If you are ready to say you love them a thousand times
and never hear it back.
It’s enough
if you are willing to lay down your comfort zone, your friends, your family,
and go with a child into dark places.
Places other people run from.
Places that scare the pants off you.
Love is enough when you can stand beside a child
who has done wrong.
Maybe horrible wrong -
Maybe minor.
And not take the place of punitive judge.
But that of intercessory supporter,
Because you know that no one else ever will.
Can you separate the behavior
from the child -
enough to continue loving them
even when they can’t stay in your home?
Even if they hurt you?
Even when they hate you?
Even if they ruin your dreams?
Love is enough in adoption.
But it isn’t the surface sort of love we think about.
Where we heal their wounds with Bible stories and home cooked meals.
Where children of trauma (inflicted both before and after birth)
Emerge as young adults who lead their peers in righteousness.
It can be a suffering, bleeding, crippling -
God filled and God ordained love.
Where we talk not of summer jobs and drivers licences
but of crisis care and safety plans.
Love is enough
but it might look
and taste
and feel
more like
the love that Christ taught us on the cross.
A different sort of love -
LOVE.
All capitals
On a separate line.
Because it’s the answer to the question
“Would you lay down your life for this child?’
Every
Single
Tiny
Piece
until it is gone?
Love is enough.
But it might take all of us
and it might not ever look or feel like progress in this life.
But it is LOVE.
And I believe that that is enough.
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Dorothy has the fun of being the homeschooling mom to 11 wonderful kids. Learning the ups and downs of adoption, city life, hidden disabilities as well as learning to embrace the reality that we are all broken vessels being used for God’s glory. Read more of their journey on her blog Urban Servant.
In the trying times we learn
Dear Eddie
oh my darlin’,
you seriously put me through the ringer today.
you made me question everything i thought i knew about parenting.
you are one determined boy, and i know that will serve you well later in life,
that you will accomplish great things because you do not give up.
like with the easter candy, for example.
by golly, you wanted that chocolate bunny, and that chocolate bunny you were gonna get.
you have this uncanny sense of hearing… you announce every passing motorcycle,
the arrival of every garbage and delivery truck, an airplane flying overhead.
none of it is by sight, all by sound.
and yet. i can tell you 412 times to come to me, to stop climbing or jumping or running
and it is as though i haven’t uttered a single syllable.
but in spite of all of your crazy antics,
you have an unfathomable capacity to love.
you want to snuggle every night before bed, and first thing every morning.
you nestle into “mama’s bed” (it’s daddy’s, too, just so you know), rest your head right next to mine and are quiet and still and content.
i look at you in wonder, my heart full and achy,
and very aware of this precious time.
i’m not ignorant to the fact that someday… maybe soon… you will understand you’re adopted.
there may be a day when you question if we’re as close as we’d be if i’d had you myself.
if i could, i would take all those questions away in a heartbeat.
i’d tell you that i can’t imagine loving anyone more than i love you,
that our lives would have a gaping hole without you in it,
that tears well and overflow at the thought of you ever experiencing any heartache
from the undeserved gift we’ve been given of calling you ours.
i look at you in those quiet moments and i drink it in.
your tender heart and your boundless love.
i pray almost every day that you will know in the depth of your being that you are more than we could’ve ever hoped for,
that you will be confident in our love for you, and even more,
in God’s love for you.
you are a most precious gift, my sweet, wild Eddie.
i hope you will know that in your heart every day, forever.
yours always,
mama
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Carina
We are a family of 5 1/2: 3 kids – 2 biological, 1 adopted, and waiting to be chosen for our next adopted baby. Adoption has always been on our hearts, hopeful that it’d be part of our story. We’re so blessed to say that it is, and has changed us forever. We love our three boys more than we’d imagined possible and can’t wait to see what is in store for the future! We welcome you to join us on our journey at a punk, a pumpkin and a peanut.
That Was Neat
Today, out of nowhere, while my students were standing in a quiet line waiting to walk into the gym, one of my favorite students came up to me with a question. This just so happens to be one of my favorite students this year. She’s a Hispanic child who is so incredibly sweet. Since English is this student’s second language (like many of my students) and since she is a lower performing student, she often repeats the things that I say to clarify for herself. This is one of my favorite things about her. Whenever she has a question, she basically just says whatever it is that I said but raises her voice at the end to make it a question, then she follows that with, “do you mean like…?” and pretty much just says it again. This happens several times throughout the day. With some kids, that would drive you nuts. But, coming from an incredibly sweet child with a wonderful personality, I love it.
She came up to me, out of nowhere, and said, “Mrs. __, you know how you said your baby was in another mom’s belly then she gave him to you when he was borned?” Since this was literally out of no where and, honestly, other than telling little stories about my little guy in class, I honestly don’t talk about adoption much at all with my students, my students only know that he was adopted because many of them have siblings who were in my class the year LM was born. I don’t mind talking about it; its just not something that comes up. But, since it was so out of the blue, I actually said “what?” and she repeated about how another mom had LM in her belly but gave him to me when he was born. So, I said, “yeah,” wondering where this was coming from and where it could possibly be going.
She said, “I’m glad she did that. That is really neat.”
With that, she got back in line and went on to her gym class. I was left with tears in my eyes and a little smile.
I couldn’t help but think about the “other mom” who held my baby in her tummy then lovingly gave him to me.
It is really neat.
Amanda
Amanda and her best friend (aka husband) Adam travelled through the long road of recurrent pregnancy loss before being blessed through domestic newborn adoption. Along with chasing a [soon to be] two-year-old around, Amanda occasionally blogs about life as an elementary school teacher, parenting, maintaining an open adoption, feelings on infertility/miscarriages, and of course the joys of adoption.
Before You Were Mine
A couple of weekends ago, I got to spend the weekend at the Created for Care retreat with some of my best friends. It was so nice to have a weekend away and to get to spend it with over 400 other adoptive mommas.
I loved getting to hear from some of my favorite speakers from last year’s retreat. I’m so blessed by these women who chose to spend their weekend sharing their wisdom and experience with all of us younger moms. This year there was a new speaker, Carissa Woodwyk, who spoke about her experience as a Korean adoptee. I’m always hungry to hear from grown adoptees. I guess part of this stems from my anxiety as an adoptive momma. Am I doing things right? Am I loving them enough? Am I respecting their past, acknowledging their pain, giving them what they need to heal?
Carissa reminded me of the importance of letting my kids have their own story. Their lives didn’t begin when they came to our home. They have a past before us. All kids who have been adopted have a past; even babies who are adopted at birth have a past before their adoptive parents. To tell their story as if it started with us is not only selfish, it’s damaging. So I was inspired by Carissa to write down all the details of Josiah’s and Evelyn’s stories before they joined our family. No, I don’t know every detail, but I know a lot.
I thought I would share with you the opening I wrote for Evy. I’m not sharing the details because those are for her only, to share if and when she wants to. But I hope that this will maybe inspire other adoptive moms (and bio moms – everyone would love to have their story written down!).
Dear Evelyn,
For the last two years, I’ve been piecing together your past, trying to fit the people and events together to write your story before you came to us. I want you to have this to reflect on. I hope that reading this will show you, not only how loved you have been by your birth family and by your forever family, but that God has held you in the palm of His hand since the moment of your conception. He has loved you more than words can explain.
I don’t understand why your birth family has suffered so much, but I know that God loves them. Our world is broken. And ever since Adam and Eve first sinned, that pain and brokenness has rippled throughout creation. It affects our health, our families, our environments, our ability to provide for ourselves and our children, our social systems, our governments, and every other aspect of our lives. I believe that God is in control, but, as I said, I don’t understand why He has allowed these things to happen to your family. But I also believe that He makes all things beautiful. I know that He can and will redeem and restore all things, and this includes your family and your relationship with them. Whether we experience it in this life or not, He will redeem and restore even this.
I want you to know that your daddy and I consider your birth family to be our family. We pray for them, we love them, and we will be forever grateful to them. They have given us the most amazing gift . . . YOU. I will forever cherish the moments we have spent with your birth mother. They are so precious to me. She and I have a strong bond, and that bond is you.
I want you to know that this was not an easy decision for your birth mother. She loves you with all of her heart. She will never forget you. You will always be her daughter. And I feel so blessed to share the role of mother with her. You have two mothers . . . you always will. I cannot replace her, and I don’t want to. I want you to know that I am not threatened by her, and I will always respect the role that she plays in who you are. You have my full blessing to love her as her daughter should love her.
So here is your story, though it’s only the beginning. As I write this, you are three and a half years old, and yet you already have such a deep history. But your future is so much wider. I can’t wait to see the plans that God has in store for you . . .
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Mary Beth Picker is a wife and mother of three. Two of her children were adopted from Ethiopia. She and her husband are actively involved in work in Ethiopia through Lifesong for Orphans. Read more about her and her family at Picker Points!
Someone Else’s Child
My sweet son,
While watching you play with a group of children, another mother commented that she “could never love someone else’s child.” Her eyes can only see a child born from an unknown womb and of a different ethnicity, not sharing my blue eyes or light skin. How unfortunate that her eyes cannot see what I see.
When I look at you, I see an ornery sense of humor like your daddy. I see your Lego engineering skills that rival your brother’s. I listen to your contagious belly laugh and am reminded of your grandma. I admire your imagination that you share with your sister as you play together for hours. That short-sighted woman couldn’t see the deep mother/son bond we share as we snuggle early in the morning or know of the fierce protectiveness for you that overwhelms me sometimes. Your tawny skin and your almond-shaped eyes that disappear when you grin do not make me feel less connected to you but rather closer to the woman who loved you enough to give you life.
Your sweet spirit and tender heart are just like your Father’s. I am reminded that you, as well as your siblings born from my womb, are not really mine at all. All of my children belong to our Father, and you are a gift for me to nurture. I do love Someone Else’s child. And it’s easy because He tucked that love here in my heart even before I met you.
With love,
Your mommy
Originally posted on Mom Life Today
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Julia DesCarpentrie, aka: Mama, hey Honey, Jewel, MOMEEEE, yo Sis, oh Mother, Julie … depends on who needs me. I answer to the love of my life (who also just happens to be my husband), a drama tween, and three very rambunctious superheroes, and toddler diva. Several years ago we handed our safe little family over to God and told Him to take control. He buckled us in on an adventurous roller coaster that rocketed us to China to adopt our youngest child, spun us closer to His heart, and plunged us into the south where foster care once again changed our hearts and family. I can usually be found behind the wheel of ‘Mama’s Monster Truck’ (aka the family minivan) on the way to dance, tae kwon do, scouts or school. The laptop travels with me and most of my writing is done waiting in the school pick-up lane. Read more of her ramblings here.
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Love is a battlefield
Not long ago a pastor was praying over Nathan and I when he uttered words along these lines: “Satan doesn’t want this family to succeed so God be their anchor as he attacks them.” It was right then and there that I truly understood what a war zone our entire family had just entered. I always “knew” it would be hard to adopt a child, that there would be days I would get overwhelmed or the kids wouldn’t get along, and days when progress would feel limited, but it was in that moment I became aware that being under attack was going to be a permanent part of our story.
For we are not fighting against flesh and blood enemies, but against evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against mighty powers in this dark world and against evil spirits in the heavenly places. – Ephesians 6:12
If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare His own Son, but gave him up for us all- how will He not also, along with Him, graciously give us all things? Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. Who shall separate us from the the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written:“For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.”No in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. -Romans 8:31-39
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I have been married 9 years to a worship pastor, a rock star, and the most involved and intentional dad I have ever seen! Together, we have the privilege of parenting three amazing children (Jaxon- 7, Jovie- 4, and Jaydn 3). Jaydn came to us by way of adoption from Uganda, Africa. We live in Little Rock, Arkansas, but I am a west-coast girl at heart. I enjoy photography, adventure recreation, and teaching high-school students about Jesus. I enjoy writing as a way to learn life lessons out loud because, most of the time, the right (wise) answers are in me somewhere; I just have to dig to find them.
Lots of You Asked for It, So Here You Go
Ok….like 5 people asked for it.
But since I am a stay at home mom and interact with exactly no one most days during the day
5 people is like a lot.
So here you go
my thoughts on older child adoption.
The question of how we “do” older child adoption
how the intricacies of that play out in our home
how their adjustment is
quite honestly sets me back a bit.
When asked about “Older child adoption” I have to wait for that “older child/hard to place” label that used to define them rise up from the recesses of my brain and come back into my frontal lobe….errr…cerebral cortex?…..I dunno….so that I can remember
because I truly don’t look at them as “older children”.
They just fit.
They fit perfectly into our family.
I don’t know that it is harder.
I don’t know that it is easier than adopting younger kids & cute squishy lil babies.
It’s just
well
different.
In the beginning in China it was fabulous.
They were old enough to somewhat have a grasp on what was happening.
All 3 came right to us.
(other than Joshua apparently thinking he was going to live in Italy….sorry buddy)
There were
No tantrums.
No tears.
Just pure
adrenaline induced
excitement.
For them
for us
we were one big group of really, really excited people.
Yet, ironically, if anything illustrates the udder brokenness of these orphans
it is that moment
because really,
children should not be that excited to be handed to
and walk off
with perfect strangers.
But they somehow know.
They know that what is to come
love
life
hope
a future
food
a bed
warmth
simply must be better than what they have now.
Because when I try to picture my biological children being handed over to strangers at the age of 7
and the definite opposite reaction that they would have
it illustrates just how big a void these kids sitting in those orphanages have.
There is nothing like a family.
There is
no
thing
like a family.
Practically, older kids just aren’t as needy in the physical sense and since we were far beyond diapers and nap times this worked well for us.
They could walk, go to the bathroom, understand that it was time for bed, shower, dinner.
(Man I am SO good at charades now. If anyone ever wants to play, let me know. I’ll kick your butt.)
This I knew was a key to our families successful transition.
These kids were in the same phase of life that we were already in so the adjustment on our part was minimal. (Not to trivialize adoption itself but in this specific context(as it pertains to age) it was a minimal impact.)
I think had we chosen to go back down baby lane it would have been much more difficult (for us).
We just weren’t there.
Our hearts weren’t there.
Our sports filled evenings and weekends weren’t there.
Our older kids weren’t there.
I knew how to do 7 year’s old.
Our youngest 5 are all within a 21 month block of time.
The twins are 6 minutes apart.
Push em out, push em out, waaaaaayyy out!
Sorry, that was a throwback to my brief cheer-leading days in high school.
But I digress…
Jacob is 14 months younger than the twins.
Joshua is 3 months younger than Jacob.
Joey is 4 months younger than Joshua.
If we could do anything,
we could do the 6-8 year old age range.
I knew what their maturity level was, what would appeal to them, how to speak to them.
We were there.
Granted, some of it may have been lost in translation but I think the message is this…
Kids are kids.
Red, yellow, black and white they, at their core, are kids.
Obviously
Experiences will color that,
Trauma will cover that,
Abandonment will change that,
Institutionalization will harm that
but somehow I could see right through all of that muck and mire
and I could see that underneath it all
there was a little boys heart.
I didn’t know how long it would take to unearth.
I didn’t know the hardships would come along
I didn’t know how much pain was in the process
but the heart
the heart is there
it’s just waiting.
It’s the uncovering of all of the “stuff” that comes along with adopting older kids that is where the challenge can rise up
and
smack
you
in
the
face.
So though I don’t change diapers
or warm bottles
or wake up for 3am feedings
and I don’t hurry home for nap time
I fight a battle that is larger than myself.
A battle that will consume them
if it weren’t for love.
So yes.
It’s hard.
I do sleep all night
They do go to school all day
but I have to be ever mindful that though their neediness doesn’t lie in the physical sense
there are still 3 little hearts under my roof that are still in a state of mending.
Because not only do I have my own parenting wisdom, tips, techniques and training to impart on them,
I am simultaneously un-parenting all of the bad habits, harsh words, and lack of love that they endured when I wasn’t there.
Have you ever tried un-parenting and parenting at the same time?
It’s ummmm……fun?
Nope.
Pretty sure that’s not the word I am looking for.
It’s not just “Hey buddy, this is how we do this.”
It’s “Hey buddy, I know that was how things were done before and I’m sorry that happened, ~ hug ~ hug~ but here’s why that’s not ok. Now let me show you what we do. ~ teach. train. model. ~ hug ~
Then it’s “Good job! I knew you could do it!” ~ hug~
All whilst speaking Chinglish and having about 50% of what you are telling them get lost in translation.
Repeat.
8,000 times a day.
They will be 14 years old before we ever even break even.
They will be 14 before their time in our family becomes longer than their days spent in an orphanage.
This is a marathon.
I am not who I used to be.
My patience is bigger
My heart is heavier
My joy is tempered.
Just like a normal marathon
it’s exhausting.
It takes an inordinate amount of energy
of patience
of love
of patience
of patience
of teaching
of training
of patience
of love
to bring these kids out of the darkness.
And if I’m being honest….
it.
empties.
me.
And if I’m being more honester. (yep I know, not a word)
it’s the reason I haven’t been blogging.
It takes SO much to be continually pouring love, encouragement, discipline, and training into these kids that I often find myself
empty.
And most days
when the sun has set
when 7 sleepy heads are happily snoring on their pillows
I have nothing left to give.
Are we happy?
Yep.
Would we do it again?
No doubt, yes.
Is it the hardest thing I have ever done?
A
b
s
l
u
t
e
l
y
Are there moments when I think to myself,
“Am I being punked?”
7 boys? Seriously?
Totally.
I vastly underestimated the amount of life training that they would need at their age.
Things like
A stove is hot.
You knock on the door before you walk into people’s houses, you can’t just walk in.
Seatbelts.
Walk on the sidewalk, not in the street.
Kindly do not remove the food from your plate that you don’t care for and place a big blob of it directly on the table.
Don’t walk down the hallway from your room to the bathroom stark neked. You’re 8.
Small things of course.
But when each and every moment,
each and every action
each and every transition
requires explanation it takes awhile to get the hang of that.
Rather…
it took me awhile to get the hang of that.
But last I checked my goal isn’t to take up residence on Easy Street,
I think that is a crowded, overpopulated neighborhood.
go.
serve
love.
be more like HIM
It’s what I want to do.
It’s where I want to live.
So is older child adoption really more difficult?
I don’t know.
It’s just
different.
________________________________________
Sonia M.
Sonia and her husband John are an Air Force family with 7 boys. She stays at home part time and spends the other part of her time shopping at Stuff-Mart buying large quantities of food to feed said boys. Sonia’s hobbies include cooking, cooking, cooking more, cleaning, cooking, and cleaning bathrooms. They are navigating their way through life attempting to glorify God in all that they do — follow the journey here.
