Defined by Behavior?
We speak a lot about identity on our blog. One of the most important roles we have as parents is to recognize and call forth our children
Fighting Stance
Isn’t that the way it always works? Once you think you’re really making progress, there’s a flare-up that lets you know you’re not out of the woods yet.
Just yesterday, I bragged on how well Caden is adjusting. I’ve been seeing it time after time again. And, last night, he blew me away with his increasing vocabulary…not only by identifying Yoda as “Tar War” but by repeating the majority of the alphabet after Chloe.
Then, today it happened. For the first time in months, Caden took his fighting stance. Along with tantrums, eating nonstop and his separation anxiety issues…all of which are GREATLY improving…it’s the only negative result of his orphanage upbringing that we’ve seen. It’s hard to know exactly what will set him off, but it almost always happens if you take a toy away from him. Therefore, I’ve trained the kids not to do that. But, this afternoon, I promised them the treat of an “On Demand” movie if they cleaned up the tornado aftermath mess upstairs. They’ve had a very “creative” morning, and I wanted it taken care of prior to dinner.
I had assigned Eva the task of collecting the Barbies (and their accessories) and putting them back in their plastic tote. So, in the clean-up process, she tried to take the plastic Barbie horse away from Caden…and then it happened. I was in their room helping Chloe pick up, and I saw it. But, I wasn’t fast enough. Caden rocked back on his legs, raised his hand, and swung the horse right across Eva’s face. He reminded me of a spider about to attack its predator…as he always does when he takes his fighting stance. I grabbed his arm immediately after he made contact and said in a firm loud voice, “No. You cannot hit your sister!” I continued holding onto his arm while I took away the horse and put it where it belonged. As soon as I let go, Caden ran off crying. I took a quick look at Eva’s face and gave her a kiss on her “boo boo,” then I took off after him.
I found Caden in my closet, sobbing a heartbreaking sob that always takes me back to Gotcha Day. I grabbed him up and snuggled him close. Through his sobs, I gave him gentle kisses that created another scenario very reminiscent of Gotcha Day. Finally, I got him calmed down, and I switched him from “snuggling position” to “cradling position”. Then, I looked down into those brown eyes I fell in love with in a referral picture over a year ago and said, “Mommy loves you.” He shook his head no. So I told him over and over and over again…kissing and snuggling more as I progressed.
I know this is perfectly normal for adoptive families. And I’ve had that point reiterated through the 12 hours of online Hague training I finished this morning…in addition to the 10 hours that I took for Caden’s adoption. I know. It’s been drilled into my brain.
My baby boy fell asleep in my arms sitting on the floor of my dark walk-in closet. And, the tears began to flow. I was crying because he doubted my love…even for a second. I cried because a 2-year-old should not even know how to defend themselves like a wild animal under attack. I cried because I can’t make the damage done during his 21 months in the orphanage go away. I cried because there was a time when he wouldn’t fall asleep in my arms. And, I cried because soon I’ll have another wounded soul calling me Mama.
We stayed true to our original plan…GOD’s original plan, rather…and are pursuing a little girl with a congenital heart defect. Her heart will be broken in ways that the cardiologists won’t be able to fix…or even stabilize with medication. Her heart will be broken in ways that Mama can’t make go away no matter how hard she tries. And that scares me as much as the complications that can arise from complex CHD.
When you adopt a child, their pain becomes your pain. It’s no different than your biological children…but the relationship is. The bonds are harder to form…and easier to damage. It’s a battle establishing a good, solid relationship with them. And it’s a battle helping them overcome the baggage from their past. You can’t be a bystander…you have to be proactive. It takes hard work to get through the issues adoptive families face. It’s not easy meeting the needs of a child who has been hurt emotionally.
As an adoptive parent, you have to develop your own fighting stance.
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Tara Anderson began a journey of grace over 20 years ago when she walked the aisle of a little country church and gave her heart to Jesus. She is a stay-at-home mother of four, the youngest of whom was adopted through the China Waiting Child Program in November 2010. Not too long ago, Tara knew exactly who she was and exactly what she wanted out of life…but now she’s just trying to figure out who God intends her to be, and what He wants from her. You can get better acquainted with Tara on her personal blog, Following Our Leader.
Blessed Assurance
One of my favorite things about Sunday afternoons is that they tend to be pretty lazy for our family. After church, a trip to the grocery store, lunch, and Skype with Andrew, we settled in upstairs.
More Than This…There’s Nothing
At the end of May, our family attended our son JT’s Senior Dinner and Robing Ceremony. We had never witnessed a Robing Ceremony and though we knew it would be moving, we had no idea what was in store as JT took Ruby by the hand and led her to the stage where this testimony written by JT was read by the Dean.
JT Chapman
Robing Sponsor: Ruby Caroline Chapman – Sister
This past summer, my parents and I traveled to China to adopt a little girl. The trip was an ordeal both for us and for the newest member of our family, Ruby. My sister, Ruby, has been such a blessing to our family in so many ways.
I chose Ruby as my robing sponsor because she is a living example of God’s Grace and Mercy. Ruby’s strength and courage in the face of adversity, and her willingness to trust, to love, and to choose joy has had a profound impact on my life.
Ruby, I admire you and I am so grateful for the light that you are to our family.
I love you forever.
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I am Amy…Grateful mother of now 5 precious children and wife to my best friend of 28 years. First and foremost…my Father’s daughter. Together with my family, experiencing the forever miracle of adoption…one blessed day at a time…and sharing at our family blog, For Such a Time As This.
Parenting in Grace: Who is This Child?
To topple the “stronghold of our experiences” we must “let God be found true, though every man be found a liar” (Romans 3:4). The only One who has a right to shape our lives is Jesus Christ. We must determine to allow nothing and no one to shape us, not even our personal experiences, unless they are consistent with the promises of God. In truth, who is ruling our lives, God or our experiences?
Francis Frangipane, The Three Battlefields
Who is this child?
I heard once that personhood can be defined in three parts: (1) Identity, (2) Acceptance, (3) Approval. This intrigued me, as I have become increasingly convinced that our precious adopted children’s wholeness and healing directly correlates with their understanding and belief in who they are. Do you remember what God the Father said about Jesus when He was baptized? “This is (1) My Son, (2) My Beloved, (3) In Whom I Delight!” (Matthew 3:17) Jesus received this public affirmation from His Father–his identity as a son of his Father, his acceptance as one who is loved, and the approving delight of his Father. When we ask the question, “Who is this child?” as parents, we have the opportunity to partner with the Holy Spirit to see God’s eternal purposes manifested in his or her life, going way past the surface issues of behavior into the depth of their identity in Christ.
What is God Seeing? What is God Saying?
My favorite example of this is found in the story of Gideon (Judges 6)– I love this story! There is Gideon threshing wheat in secret, hiding in a wine press so that the Midianite enemy can’t steal it from him. And then the Angel of the Lord shows up and says, “The Lord is with you, you mighty man of valor.” Notice, Gideon is not even wearing armor, he has no sword, he is hiding in justified fear–there is nothing about him that would indicate that he is indeed a “might man of valor.” What in the world was God thinking?! More importantly, what was God seeing?
Facts or Truth?
Do you see the huge gap between the Word of the Lord and the facts at hand?! There is a disturbing and direct opposition between God’s words and what can be seen at the present moment. In this situation it is key to recognize the difference between facts and truth. Facts are simply an accurate description of a circumstance. Facts change, but Truth–God’s Word–remains.
How often do we look at our children and see only a repeated negative behavior or character trait. We must look to who they are in the Spirit. Notice, God did not say, “You will be a mighty man of valor once I finish my work in you.” I don’t know about you, but to me it almost feels like God made a mistake here. But rather, I think what is going on is that God saw something in Gideon in the Spirit, something that had not yet manifested but was, nevertheless, TRUE. Also, let’s take note that God did not attack him with words like, “Gideon, you are a gutless wimp. Shape up here.” As with Jesus, God spoke out loud into Gideon his identity in the very midst of the facts that spoke as loud as any words, “Fearful, not Mighty.”
Calling Forth the Treasure
Part of our role as fathers and mothers is to speak WORDS OF LIFE and TRUTH
Hair
Hair is a big deal.
To me personally, not so much. I am a pretty low maintenance gal. But, hair in the African-American world is a huge deal. That your daughter’s hair is well groomed and well styled signifies your care for her. If you would like to be better educated in the world of African hair care and the battle between natural hair and chemically processed hair, watch the hilarious documentary called Good Hair with Chris Rock. I got quite the education watching that one!
I think since the first day I met Therese, 6 months ago, and everyday since, she has made it clear that she wants to grow her hair and get it braided. Keep in mind that her hair was shaved almost to the scalp when we met. It needed to be at least a few inches long so that she could get her extensions put in. Everyday, multiple times a day, for the last 8-12 weeks, I have had to ooh and ahh over just how long her hair was getting. I actually think commenting on the length of Therese’s hair is her love language!
In seeking out ways that I can become closer to my daughter and enhance our attachment, I realize that if hair is a big deal to my daughter, it better be a big deal to me.
I have gone to the the ends of the earth to make my daughter’s good hair dreams come true. There is nothing this mama won’t do and that includes going outside my comfort zone and into a downtown park to get an estimate on my daughter’s hair. Oh yeah. I had to meet a hairstylist in a park! I met the woman’s cousin at a park who recommended her to me and then I had to meet the stylist herself at another park to get the estimate. That is me, breaking down cultural barriers, people.
Well, Therese’s dream came true!
That is one happy girl!
She sat still for 3 1/2 hours getting her hair done without one complaint or tear (and it hurts!).
As her mother, I am trying to help her walk the fine line of enjoying her beauty and knowing where true beauty comes from. She was loved no less in her “before” state. On the other hand, when you look good, your true beauty can shine through a little more clearly.
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Erika has been married to Casey for 11 crazy beautiful years. Erika is mom to two 10 year olds and two 6 year olds who aren’t twins! Therese (10), newly adopted from Burkina Faso, is awaiting heart surgery. Evelea (10) willingly gave up her position as oldest child so we could add Therese to our family. Sitota (6) was adopted from Ethiopia and brings a lot of fun to the family. Carter (6) has had six heart surgeries and gave us the courage to adopt a child with a heart defect. They are astounded that as our family doubled in size, our love quadrupled. You can learn more about their family on their blog.
Grief and the Adopted Child
Today, Rose is working on a scrapbook, carefully placing her pictures from China. Her tears are turning to smiles.
We’ve been seeing more grief from Rose the past few days. It’s hard. And the hardest part is knowing there is no way I can fix it–and as a parent I want nothing more than to protect my child from her pain and sadness.
And yet, perhaps, one of the bigger mistakes we make as adoptive parents is trying to “fix” our adopted child’s grief–to deny it, to cover it up, to take our child’s mind off it, to minimize it, to distance them from it.
Instead, we need to allow our child to experience it, and to find a way to live with it. That is easier said than done.
Last year, an adoptive parent sent me an e-mail asking when her son would quit feeling grief. She felt sad and personally responsible. She said that she was giving him a life full of love, laughter, happiness, good food, an amazing education, and even Disney vacations. And yet, there were times he still cried for the orphanage he had left behind. She couldn’t understand how he would miss an orphanage that was dirty, overcrowded, lacking food and toys.
To answer her question, I think we need to imagine ourselves in a similar situation. Pretend we suddenly became movie stars and were whisked off to a beautiful castle in another world, complete with a personal trainer and chef! We had maids, butlers, a race car, entertainment, horses, doting fans, and even big screen TVs in the bathroom (with continual reruns of Oprah and Grey’s Anatomy)! We were even given a new, perfect family.
How would we feel? Would we become homesick? Would we miss our loved ones?
Some parents might argue that their child didn’t leave loved ones behind, didn’t have a family, didn’t have anyone who loved them–and in addition, their child experienced abuse and neglect. I would gently suggest that even in families (and orphanages) where children have experienced abuse, they still have love for their parents (or caretakers). Children who are taken into protective custody in the US still cry for their abusive parents at night, because along with the bad memories there are good ones.
And even in a “bad” orphanage, there was almost certainly someone that our child felt connected to. It may have not even been an adult, it may have been another child.
Our kids miss their previous caregivers, friends, familiar surroundings, language, foods, and culture. And they always will.
It isn’t our job to help them forget, but to allow them to remember and to support them through those memories. To help them heal from the bad ones and hold on to the good. To validate their feelings, yet keep them moving forward into their new lives, filled with an abundance of life and love.
Not to replace what they left behind but to build on it.
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Ann Henderson currently finds herself wife to one and mom of nine, including a son now playing non-stop baseball in heaven. Several of her children are adopted
We forget…
My daughter did not grow inside of me. I did not experience morning sickness, feel her kick, or hear her first cry. I will never know what her first months in Ethiopia were like. There are things we missed
God Bless America!
His Past. His Healing.
This is the flower by my front door.
Pathetic I know.
But it is an interesting flower nonetheless.
Stick with me here….I’m going somewhere with this…
I promise.
This is not a horticulture lesson by any stretch.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
We have lived in this house for nearly two years.
I haven’t ever planted
nor watered
a thing.
And what amazes me is that each spring this one flower,
among the death and ruin of the remaining flowers of yesteryear
continues to bloom.
It blooms despite it’s circumstances.
Never watered.
Never fertilized.
Never paid any attention to sans a stray nerf bullet that sometimes sails it direction.
Nuthin.
That flower,
I love.
That flower that I walk by everyday when I enter our home
r
e
m
i
n
d
s
me
so much of
them.
Nobody loved.
Nobody cared.
Some were just downright mean and awful.
Yet.
They.
Bloom.
Today I was playing with Jacob and tickling him and that contagious laugh of his was bursting out of him.
I did what I have done a hundred times before with our other kids.
I started gently tapping his mouth as he was laughing which
as all mothers know
makes their voice sound really funny and typically makes them laugh even more.
But today
in that moment
his past
once again
caught up with him.
And he
shut.
down.
That scared traumatized look came right back into his eyes.
The hollowness.
The emptiness.
I had apparently found yet another trigger.
That look that, in the beginning days and weeks of being home, would last for hours
came back.
But this time
it left rather quickly.
“Please don’t do that mama. XXXX in China hit mouth hard. He really mean.”
Oh sweet boy.
I hugged him, he smiled, and we went right back to playing legos.
And he heals a little bit more.
And he blooms a little bit more.
And I get really angry inside and want to get on a plane and have a little what’s what with that man.
And I pray.
And not only is he blooming,
but he is choosing.
Choosing to love.
Captive no more.
Orphan no more.
But free.
The Spirit of the LORD is upon me, for he has anointed me to bring Good News to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim that captives will be released, that the blind will see, that the oppressed will be set free.
Luke 4:18
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Sonia and her husband John are an Air Force family with 6 boys ages 14, 13, 8, 8, 7, & 7. Soon, that will be 7 boys–they just received preapproval to bring home another little man who they are naming Joshua John–JJ. 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.