Fundraising.
Just the word can give me the chills. I picture overpriced wrapping paper and pizza kits, going door to door and begging family friends to help me go on my choir trip or get new softball uniforms.
Years later, I don
What {my} faith looks like
Matt loves to surprise me, but not in a way that I appreciate. He’ll frequently come up to me and say, “Close your eyes and open your mouth,” so he can surprise me with a treat. I can’t stand it when he does this. It’s not that I think he’s going to put something gross in my mouth, it’s that I don’t know what to expect. Sweet? Salty? Spicy? Crunchy? Gooey? Small? Big?
So, instead of readily closing my eyes and opening wide, I close my eyes, then peek, then close my eyes again, then peek, then close. Then I open my mouth as little as possible and cringe as I await the mystery food.
Which leads him to say, “You don’t trust me.” And, I tell him I do. I do trust him. I just hate the unknown…not knowing what to expect…which makes it look like I don’t fully trust him.
In reflecting on our adoption journey to Miss L, I feel like that is a perfect picture of what my faith looked like. Cringing, cautious faith.
Faith that was caught off-guard by a God who clearly answered our prayers to lead us to a third child, if that was His will for our family.
Once we committed to moving forward with Miss L’s adoption…in faith…I still found myself guarding my heart and doubting it would or could all work out. Humanly speaking, there were a lot of reasons to be cautious and to doubt because no US adoption agency works with her country. I would have to figure out how to do an independent international adoption, so I immersed myself in researching immigration laws and adoption requirements and learning the US definition of orphan. I spent months gathering documents from the other side of the world.
Each potential road block I encountered along the way, He leveled. Every question, He answered. Every dark path, He illuminated. Each time I learned of a new requirement or necessary document, He provided it.
When it became clear that hiring a lawyer who specializes in US orphan immigration law would be a wise idea, he provided a the lawyer who had experience with this country. (No small task seeing as only a handful of adoptions from this country have ever even taken place.)
When it came time to get our visas and book our travel, He worked out the details and put us in touch with people who went above and beyond to help us.
When we were told to expect it to take one full week in-country to get her passport, He provided it the same day we applied for it…within hours.
When it seemed as if we’d be stuck in her country for a few extra days waiting for an open departing flight, He provided just enough seats on the plane to get us out ahead of schedule.
When we were waiting to pick up the results of her US-required medical exam, He provided a group of US adoptive parents in the waiting room who gave us important information on dealing with the US Consul@te.
When we arrived 15 minutes after the office closed to apply for her visa at the US Consulate, He provided kind officers who were more than happy to allow us in anyways.
When we expected to have to wait at least a week for her US visa to be approved because hers was such a unique case, He provided it in one day.
When it appeared like we would miss our flight back to the US due to insanely long and slow security lines, He provided an officer who noticed my tears stress and allowed us to move ahead in line to make our flight.
In more ways than I can list, His fingerprints were all over her adoption and our trip. And yet my faith seemed so small. So filled with doubt and uncertainty. Will it work out? What if they won’t issue her visa? What if we run into snags? What if our trip is longer than expected? What if? What if? What if?
Small faith cringing with each new call to trust and watch Him work.
So when people see our family or hear our story and say, I could never do it, my first thought is: Yes, you could. If God calls you to it, you can do it. I am proof that He doesn’t call only those with no fears, no doubts, and no worries. He doesn’t limit his blessings to only those who have unwavering, bold faith.
He calls and equips and blesses even those with weak faith. His grace covers our doubts. His strength enables us to walk through our fears.
I don’t look at either of our adoption journeys as displays of how strong my faith was or is. I look at them as displays of how strong my God is. It was His power that was on display for all to see. His power at work through a weak and worried woman who had just enough faith to take the next step.
But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses,
Sometimes I forget…
…just how wounded she is.
That deep down, there is a lot of hurt.
A lot of anger.
A lot of confusion.
And I’m just not sure how to be the mom she needs me to be.
Because there are moments where it seems so completely overwhelming. And I feel so completely inadequate.
Like this morning, when a simple request is followed by a refusal from her. And thus, a consequence ensues.
Which is followed by a tantrum. But not just any tantrum.
A tantrum that reaches a whole ‘nother level. Different than any tantrum I’ve ever experienced with other kids.
There is no calming her down. There is no reasoning.
There is only escalation, and screams from the depth of her soul. Followed by more escalation. And thrashing, and contortion, and eyes rolling back in her head.
It’s as if for a little while, she’s not even there. She’s somewhere else.
And then exhaustion comes. And she curls herself up into a fetal position.
So vulnerable.
So wounded.
And then, the chanting returns. The chants that consistently rang out when we first brought her home. The self-soothing primal chants that make my heart hurt for the life she led. And the scars that bear witness to that time.
And it’s then, that I realize how much I love her. And how much I want to fix it, and make it all better. How I desperately wish she did not have to endure what she has in her short life. Where she was provided for…but not loved. Fed…but not nourished. Touched…but without affection. Abandoned. Without a soul in the world to call her own.
So I scoop her up, and love on her. And pray.
Which is really all I can do.
Because she needs a lot more than I, alone, can offer.
She’s come so far in the past year and a half. And 99% of the time she looks like a happy, spirited, well-adjusted kid who has learned how to love and play and be silly. And I am thankful.
But that 1% of the time….well, I think that road will be a long one to walk.
Sometimes I forget.
Just because she has a family, doesn’t mean she’s fine. Just because she’s been home for a while, doesn’t mean the issues are all gone.
It’s not magic. It’s not quick in this case.
BUT….adoption is healing. And redemption. And a second chance.
And while some would have me believe that she will never be restored from those hurts from her past, I will choose to believe otherwise.
Because she is CHOSEN. And LOVED.
And SHE. IS. MINE.
And really, that’s all that matters.
And that, I can remember.
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Jennifer and Rush Middleton have been married for 11 years and have 4 kids, Jonah (8), Reagan (5), Rylie (3) and Jude (2). Rylie came home from China in 2010 and Jude just arrived earlier this year. The Middletons have been through the easy and the hard of bringing a child into their family, yet the awesome gift of adoption has rocked their worlds in more ways than they can count. You can check out their blog about family, life, adoption, cleft lip/palate and other randomness at Apple Pie and Egg Rolls.
America, the Beautiful
Our First Meeting
It seems almost impossible to accurately describe the feelings and emotions that surround the meeting of the parents of your child. That statement alone holds thoughts that can never be understood unless this exact experience has been a reality in your life. But, here I am over two years later, and I clearly remember every detail, and I will try my best to express and explain the most important meeting of my life.
The night before the meeting I sat at my window, watching the snow quietly fall, and told Bundle all about the events of the next day. I read and re-read their profile, analyzing every word and picture. I was so nervous I could not fall asleep and I just stared and talked. I wasn
A Treasure to Carry
The Lord continues to bless me with encouragement when he knows I need it the most. A few months ago I went searching online to see if I could find our little man’s orphanage. I want to know where it is, to look it up on google maps, to see pictures, to imagine him there. But between having little idea about where to start and having to translate all those sites from Russian to English on google translate, I didn’t get very far. I looked through hundreds of orphanage pictures, hoping I recognize something in the background from the photos we have of out little guy… hoping I’d maybe even have some sort of motherly sense to just know which “baby house,” as they say in Russia, was his. But I did not.
Until today.
Through the miracle of the internet and what I’d say is God’s gracious guiding, I found it. A woman I connected with on a private adoption-related forum (hi M!) found my etsy shop. She bought a t-shirt and sent me a link to the website of her son’s orphanage, asking if perhaps our son was there too. I clicked on to the site and saw that it was one I had visited before. I wasn’t sure it would lead to anything, but still- I cut and paste every piece of wording into google translate and kept clicking around, hoping and hoping until…
Until I suddenly saw his sweet face and soft smile looking back at me. I inhaled sharply and tears prickled at my eyes. It was one of the pictures we already have of him, but just to know…. to know where he is… to see the faces of his peers, his playmates, his friends… this is a gift I treasure deeply tonight.
There is only one picture of his orphanage on the website and I’ve memorized it already. The white walls, the gray floor, the pine table and chairs, the colorful toys, the old fashioned play-pen like my parents would have played in. The room it sterile, but bright- filled with sunlight from large windows- and clean. It gives my mother’s heart some peace. A treasure, that picture. A gift for my soul.
On the site, the children in the baby house are “listed” with a picture and short description. The words used to describe our sweet son echo the descriptions his nannies have given us through our agency: quiet, gentle, tender, sweet. Our precious, precious, baby boy. Oh God how I long to cup his face in my hands, to stroke his head and push back his hair, to whisper, “My love. My baby. My son.” Do that for him today, I pray. Warm his heart until it glows with my love, from miles and miles away.
Today, for this gift, I am thankful. For a peek into his world. For a gaze into the eyes of the children with whom he spends every day. For a connection with another mama whose son waits with mine.
Until I carry him in my arms, I treasure these gifts in my heart. I carry him in my heart, today.
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Jillian Burden is an expectant mama; she and her husband are expecting their first child by way of a Russian adoption. While her belly might not be expanding, her heart and her faith sure are growing! You can read about this soul stretching journey to parenthood on her blog.
Response
Imagine yourself in a stadium, surrounded by people. Sports match, Music concert; either way, there is a buzz in the air. You are waiting for something to happen, the goal to be scored, your song to be played. And then it happens. And the crowd goes wild. Everyone is on their feet, screaming, clapping, stamping, smiling. You can feel the excitement and joy in the crowd.
This is kind of the response I expected when we told people we were adopting. We had been through a process of trying and being disappointed, wanting a baby but not getting there. Then we made the decision to adopt and suddenly hope returned and our world became such an exciting place full of anticipation and exhilaration. And so I would go around telling all I could
Whose RAD is it, anyway?
Over the last couple of months, I’ve spent some time with a few psychologists doing basic routine assessments for a few of my kids.
One meeting included me having a serious discussion on the developmental aspects of my Chinese adoptee with only one loopy dangley earring. The other ear: naked. Call me a crazy homeschooling mother of many.
The other psychologist? She was not impressed with our less than “typical” lifestyle with under the breath comments like, “That’s a passel of kids. You certainly have your hands full” and “So, your child doesn’t have any friends because you never socialize with other kids” after I relayed the multitude of activities we participate in on a weekly basis. Swallow hard, carry on.
When your kids come to you at 8 years, or 5 years, or 5 weeks old for that matter, a lot has happened in their lives. More than we will ever know, and it is advantageous to gather as much information in every possible way.
Being informed helps us.
understand the past,
deal with the present,
plan for the future.
As I was talking to the psychologist about my child, she had the nerve to suggest that during a particularly prickly stage with my child, the bonding and attachment was compromised. Not the child’s. Mine. Ouch. I took that nugget home to think about with my tail between my legs.
Yes, she actually said I have attachment issues.
Time for [Insert deep announcer’s voice]…confessions of an adoptive mom:
I love my children. I really do.
Yet, sometimes, there is one that is very hard to like.
All that history that I wasn’t part of?
It gets in the way.
Of my understanding. It disrupts my compassion.
And the truth of it all?
God has given me a vehicle for growth.
A way to learn more about how Jesus loved the unlovable.
And, He did exactly that in the best possible way.
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Jennifer Peterson is wife to one faithful man and mom of 9. After the first three came along, they became foster parents and adopted 5 kids including 2 sets of siblings. Jennifer and her husband Bob are currently in China to adopt an 8-year-old boy with a heart condition who has been waiting a long time for his forever family. Join the journey here as they ponder how and where God will stretch them next.
The Sin of Our Generation
“I believe that this could very well be looked back on as the sin of our generation. I look at my parents and ask, where were they during the civil rights movement? I look at my grandparents and ask, what were they doing when the holocaust in Europe was occurring with regard to the Jews, and why didn’t they speak up? And when we think of our great, great, great-grandparents, we think how could they have sat by and allowed slavery to exist? And I believe that our children and their children, 40 or 50 years from now, are going to ask me, what did you do while 40 million children became orphans in Africa?”
–Rich Stearns, President of World Vision
I first read this quote awhile ago but came across it again recently and it hit me in a much different way. I don
She is not an orphan
I’ve always been a “suck it up” kind of person but when Jaydn came along I made a huge effort to be a real softy even though it hurt, a lot, and I got really worn out. As time has distanced us from her past I made a shift and had expected others to follow along. Jaydn has a family, a loving home and all that a child needs to thrive now. Yet for some reason people still act as if they need to give her extra attention or allow certain behaviors they would never normally be okay with because, well, you know, she’s…
I know I sound like a crazy woman but think about it: if you are lighting up like a Christmas tree at the sight of my youngest daughter but hardly notice my other two, why is that?! If you let Jaydn climb all over you while you sit on the couch trying to exchange a sentence with me but would be annoyed if anyone else’s 3 year old mistook you for a jungle gym, why the sudden acceptance of such behavior? If you are asking for a hug from Jaydn and not the other two kids standing in front of you, how might that make them as spectators feel?
I whole-heartedly believe that no one comes into our home or interacts with our family with this mindset intentionally but allow me to explain a few of the results for us as a family.
1. Attachment with Jaydn has been opposite than most cases you hear about. She goes to where the attention is. So anytime you make her stand out and into the spot light against her siblings, she would rather walk off with you than stay around me, her mom who has to share attention equally. Of course we make moments where each child is celebrated individually but its intentional and purposeful for the sake of ALL our children.
2. My other kids see people draw Jaydn out from our family and it causes some tension that often results in increased control of their baby sister at home. Almost like an “everyone else may think you need more attention but I will put you in your place” attitude. I watch those two as they see the focus shift to Jaydn so often in public and it breaks my heart.
3. Ultimately it is no ones job to bring healing to our daughter’s past but God, through us her parents. We are called to give her the needed attention and extra effort that she needs. Until she has established a bond to us and us to her, this act of meeting her needs can only come from Nathan and I.
I am not asking for people to ignore Jaydn, just to consider and acknowledge if there is a draw to Jaydn more than other kids and if so, ask why. If it is for any other reason than she and you click in personality, then please attempt to balance out the attention. It does more harm than good to our family to show favortism to our youngest child because of her past rather than calling her into her present and future that is so full of love from those of us in her home.
Maybe this is my slant in personality but I expect Jaydn to grow in her home environment. I really must stress to the world that JAYDN ISN’T AN ORPHAN. She is my daughter and the more we all treat her based on her past instead of her present, the harder it is for her to move away the manipulation and attention seeking nature that she used before coming home. Our desire as a family is to teach her healthy social interaction for her age, the art of meeting a stranger, a respect for personal space, attachment to family members, how to take time to get to know someone new before you introduce physical touch etc. All of these things take effort on our behalf and understanding from those around us.
I have seen some major steps forward in Jaydn regarding this stuff when others interact with her in a healthy way. We were at a large gathering and someone came up and said hello to Jay without reaching for her at all. She didn’t respond until the person said their name. Then she turned to me and said, “I don’t know (insert name).” I said, “You are right Jaydn! You don’t know (insert name). Would you like to meet her?” Then she turned around and shook hands with the person while exchanging names and then she ran off. I was so proud.
In another instance someone asked Jadyn for a hug and she turned to me with a look that basically asked if it was ok. While I would have preferred this person not to have asked, I wanted to encourage the response from Jaydn and said it was ok. When she tried to stay with this person I had to gently remove her and gave her a hug of my own.
So you can see that progress is possible if we work together to create a healthy environment for every child. Regardless of how well you know someone, help us teach children healthy interactions by following a parent’s lead and trusting that we know what is best for our kids based on their personality, not their past.
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I have been married for over 9 years to a worship pastor/ a rock star/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) and another is on the way! Jaydn came to us by way of adoption from Uganda, Africa. I enjoy photography, adventure recreation, and teaching high-school students about Jesus.
