Because I’m a pastor and think about things in spiritual terms, it’s only appropriate that I spend a moment to comment on how physical adoption reinforced Gospel adoption to me.
Consider…
I didn’t choose God but He chose me because of His great love (Eph. 1.4-5).
I am bought by a significant price and sacrifice on His part (Eph. 1.7).
I am experiencing a life that I never could’ve created on my own (Eph. 2.8-9).
I am, quite literally, a citizen of a different kind of governance (Eph. 2.11-12).
I was a foreigner to God and He took me in, calling me His own son (Eph. 2.13).
I am now a part of a family that is much bigger and cooler than I could’ve imagined (Eph. 2.19).
The beauty of all of this: just as I don’t have a regret in the world, neither does He. Wow.
But that’s just me thinking thoughts…
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Trent Henderson
Trent is the husband of the amazing Ginny and father to the thoughtful Jack, adventurous Sam, and hilarious Ruthie Mei. He also serves as pastor to the saints of Heritage Park Baptist Church near NASA in Houston. He tries to say something worthwhile in his preaching and at his blog. Feel free to go check it out.
I had some fears going into the adoption process that I’ll say out loud here so that if you have them or know people who have them, you can at least say you’re not alone.
First fear: Can I raise a daughter? I grew up with two brothers. I had two sons. The only females in my life on any kind of closely-tied relational level were my mom and my wife. I wasn’t sure I could do it. I’m still not sure – we haven’t gotten to the puberty-stage yet. Stay tuned.
Second (and bigger) fear: Can I love my daughter the way I love my sons? I was there when my sons were born. I literally saw them take their first breath. In moments, I knew their APGAR score and was holding their swaddled bodies, singing over them, praying over them, and letting their mom kiss them when I wasn’t. That wasn’t the case for my daughter.
Two things changed my fear. The first were two pictures.
Picture 1: We were sitting in bed one night when the email dinged on my wife’s computer. We had sent over a care package with snacks and clothes and a pillow with our pictures on it. In an email, we got a picture of our daughter holding the pillow. I was done. In an instantaneous moment of divine heart surgery, I knew she was mine, and I was ready to go get her. We cried when we saw…
Picture 2: We got our daughter’s file of all the things she had recorded since being found. Included in that was her finding photo. I’m choked up right now just thinking about it. I’ll not post it here for reasons I will not explain, but I know what she looked like at a few days old (or a few weeks old, we’re not exactly sure when it was taken). I didn’t get to hold her then but I am holding her now. This morning she came down the stairs and into my arms, jammies wrinkled from a long, solid night of sleep and hair looking about the same. She’s mine.
And that leads to the second thing that changed my fear. This thought hit me (and continues to do so): there’s a difference between being her father and being her dad. It’s not just semantics for me. She’s not mine, but she is. She’s not from me but she’s a part of me. She’s not my flesh, but I’d give my life for her. She’s my daughter. I may not be the guy who is responsible for her being in the world, but I am the guy who is responsible for her. And gladly. I may not be her father, but I am her dad.
But that’s just me thinking thoughts…
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Trent Henderson
Trent is the husband of the amazing Ginny and father to the thoughtful Jack, adventurous Sam, and hilarious Ruthie Mei. He also serves as pastor to the saints of Heritage Park Baptist Church near NASA in Houston. He tries to say something worthwhile in his preaching and at his blog. Feel free to go check it out.
Having brought adoption up in this sermon I gave at Heritage Park Baptist Church where I serve as the pastor, I thought I’d post some reflections on adoption. First out of the box and hot in my heart right now is adoption is a calling.
What I said in the sermon and I’ve blogged on before I stand behind: I think every Christian couple should ask if God will let you. But throwing the door open like that doesn’t mean there’s not a massive, weighty, spiritual piece to it. Quite the contrary. Should God allow you, you’ll find yourself caught in this gravitational calling and actually depending on it. We did.
I remember when it clicked for us. I remember eating italian food with Ginny and talking about entry into this process. I remember all the waiting.
We waited a year to get a match.
We waited a long time for our PA.
We waited forever for our RA.
We waited longer than anyone under the non-Hague rules for our TA (over 150 days).
We cried while waiting.
We fussed with God and our boys and one another.
We got promises from God. None more precious than 1 Thessalonians 5.24: Faithful is He who calls you and He will bring it to pass. We clung to that truth like a kid to a lollipop. Multiple times, I’d tell myself and my wife that we weren’t going to stand before Jesus someday to give an account for our lives and tell Him that we quit just because the wait was long and too hard. The temptation to give up was there. God’s promises are stronger than the promises of temptation.
I received what I thought was a word of knowledge from the Holy Spirit: January. Turns out that’s the month in which she was born and that’s the month we got matched.
We saw God move in the last minute on both our RA and our TA (posts on my wife’s blog here and here).
We rode roller coasters of unbelievable heights and depths.
None of it – NONE – could we have endured without the sense of calling. It’s what sustained us. And that sense of calling is that gravitational pull toward something, giving weight to what you do and keeping you together when everything else is going supernova around you. We have some friends in the process right now enduring quite a bit of opposition from their family. Harsh words. Sinful attitudes. Guilt. Frustration. Prejudice. You don’t endure those kinds of things (especially from family) with eyes on God without that settling, focusing, steadying weight of calling.
Adoption is a calling. No denying it. But it could be a calling for a lot more families than you know.
But that’s just me thinking thoughts…
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Trent Henderson
Trent is the husband of the amazing Ginny and father to the thoughtful Jack, adventurous Sam, and hilarious Ruthie Mei. He also serves as pastor to the saints of Heritage Park Baptist Church near NASA in Houston. He tries to say something worthwhile in his preaching and at his blog. Feel free to go check it out.
“Through my pride – Through my shame – You show me love – You show me grace – I’m not looking back – Till I see Your face – I’m running straight to you.” – Building 429
I have never felt God’s pursuit of me more than in my relationship with Mya. He loves me without abandon, the way that I love her. Both of us, adopted. And sometimes, I really feel that space in between us. In between God & I, and in between Mya & I. Through her, I finally understand how much God loves me and cares for me and how much I can hurt His heart.
“Here I am saying I need you – I know I need you – Here I am, I’m coming to meet you – Cause I want to see you.” – Building 429
I have only begun to grasp His Redeeming Love. He has worked miracles in Mya’s life; in our lives, through her. He has revealed to us what He meant by His Commandment, “Love each other as I have loved you” (John 15:12). I have admitted during this journey that had someone told me how hard it would be to love someone who didn’t necessarily love you – I would have “passed”. And oh, the joy I would have missed. I am so thankful for the secret things of the Lord (Deuteronomy 29:29) that He chooses to reveal to us at the perfect time.
“All I really want to do is to fall into the emptiness that is the space in-between us. Erase it and bring us together again.” – Building 429
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Sara McClintock
Sara was blessed by marrying her best friend 15 years ago. Then, found The Greatest Love of All in Jesus Christ in 2004. Having already had the privilege to parent two football-loving sons, Sara and Bill had international adoption laid on their hearts. They were blessed beyond belief when they welcomed the cutest, spunkiest Chinese girl from Luoyang into their family in December 2008. Having left pieces of their hearts in China, Bill & Sara are praying for God’s will to retrieve them. Please stop by their family blog for random musings on life, redemption, grace, hope, love and faith.
my baby girl is 11 months old. and as i sit here writing, my mind wanders to what she might be doing at this very moment. my heart begs for her to be held. to have someone smile at her. soothe her when she cries. pick up her favorite toy when she drops it. giggle at her silly antics.
perhaps by her 13th month, i’ll look back and wonder what all this fretting was about.
I was at one of my classes. We were on break, and there was an older lady sitting diagonally across from me. We made eye contact and the uncomfortableness (is that a word?) of the moment made me talk….ok, I could talk to a rock, but still….so anyway, I just started rambling on about this and that and somehow we got on the topic of her mother. Her mother is 95 years old. She lives alone in Iowa somewhere and this lady (her daughter) goes to spend 1 week of each month with her. Her mother is completely independent. She lives in her home by herself and goes up and down stairs to do laundry…just aced her driving test and she has her own garden. She freezes her food for the winter months and gets one meal a day from meals on wheels. Truly amazing. She went on and on about how healthy she was and what an incredible lady she was…how she still drives to church, the post office, and the store when she needs something….so, I said, “Boy, you must be happy to have such good genes.” She said, “Actually, I was adopted, but I hope that the lifestyle my mother taught me will help me with that.” She kind of smirked and turned away towards the speaker who was just getting ready to start speaking again.
Hmmmm. Dangit. I didn’t get a chance to share, I thought to myself. She doesn’t know….did that matter? Probably not. Why did it matter so much to me that I share with her? I knew I might not get a chance to talk to her ever again. Would she know how much she blessed me that day? I mean…do you as adoptive parents ever wonder if your children are going to love you so much that they will stay with you when you are 95? I mean…really with you, like come and stay with you for a week. every month. Ok, the Momma in this situation CLEARLY did something right, right? I think I need to go and stay with her for a week to learn from her.
So, yes, I did grab the lady during the next break and made sure that I told her that three of my children were also adopted. I told her that I hoped that I was as good a mother as her mother so that when I am 95 my children will come and take care of me for a week. She just kind of giggled and said how blessed my children were. “No, my children are in fact the blessing in my life,” I answered. It was so interesting the connection we had during such a very short time frame.
Here was this adoptive mother (me) in my very late thirties talking to a lady who was in her 60s and was an adopted child, and we were able to share what a blessing that an adoptive mother and adoptive children are to each other. I know, I know, common sense, right? But, it was as if we had heard it for the first time. For some reason, it meant so much more to me coming from her than it would from someone who doesn’t have any adoption connection.
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Kristine
I am a stay at home mother of four kids, two dogs, and one cat and am very blessed to be able to do so. I am married to a wonderful husband who works very hard for all of us. In addition to being a mom, I am also an occupational therapist and, in the past, spent most of my time working in long-term care facilites with the elderly. We struggled with infertility issues after the birth of my oldest son, and God led us to adoption…3 times…from Russia. I have also spent time counseling birthmoms and enjoy doing this very much. Hopefully, as my children get older, I will be able to spend most of my time doing this. One of my favorite things to do in my spare time is blog. Currently, I post on two separate blogs–I Love You More Than Peanut Butter and Lakeshore Cottage Living.
The phrase, “Adoption begins in pain” kept echoing in my mind and heart. Yes, but how does it end? What is the best way to bring healing? Open? Closed? Semi-open? And, if it’s open, what does it look like???
Enter bloggers! Grace in My Heart informed me that Small Treasures had experienced both open and closed adoptions and could talk about both perspectives! After reading her story I was amazed at her experience and stunned by how positive it was. I emailed Kristen, and she wrote back right away. Her email was like an IV of Peace. It flooded my system and instantly relaxed my fears. She explained that having experienced both, she actually preferred open, and NEVER would have guessed that she would feel that way! She told me how she loves knowing where her daughter gets this or that trait and that she’ll be able to share that with her daughter. She also informed me that birthmoms need to move on with their life and that contact may not continue in such a regular manner.
Another blogger gave me her phone number and we talked for almost an hour. She said a few things that really struck me, the most profound was, “There is a God-given relationship between a birth-mom and baby, and I respect that relationship.” True. Another statement to get tossed around in my heart and mind! She also spoke of the joy of developing a relationship with the birthmom during her pregnancy. In her case, they talked on the phone everyday. This, she pointed out, would greatly help my fear that the adoption would not work out, because you get a direct feel for how she is feeling about the situation. Is she wavering? Dead-set? Does she have the support of friends and family?
She also gave advice that put my husband’s fears at bay. Right now, the birthmom is totally in the driver’s seat. She’s calling the shots and saying what she wants this to look like. But, after the adoption is final, we’re in the driver’s seat. And, if the relationship was no longer healthy, we could cut off contact. Now I would never ever ever promise to do one thing (contact) while planning on doing another. But, as the Daddy wanting to protect his family and baby, it brought my husband (and me) peace knowing that we COULD take action if it was absolutely necessary. Furthermore, the birthmother realizes this, too, and as a result, respects the relationship.
***Please read that last paragraph in the spirit it is meant. Again- I would NEVER promise something without intending to do it. And anyone planning on such action would be dead wrong and guilty of moral sin, in my opinion.***
I also spoke with a friend who was adopted about her experience. Her adoption was closed, and she has no knowledge of her birthmother. She doesn’t know her medical history, what her birth parents look like, or the reasons for the adoption, and she has hurt as a result. She speculated that openness would have helped heal these wounds.
And what of Scripture? One of the special things about adoption is that WE have been adopted. Adopted children have a very real experience of what that means. As I discovered in Adopted for Life: The Priority of Adoption for Christian Families & Churches by Russell Moore, adoption is identity. It tells us who we are in the Lord.
We recently moved out of our house to remodel the downstairs after experiencing a water leak. In the process, I was forced to confront one of the more unwelcome tasks of moving
I finally got my act together enough last week to invite some new friends of friends of friends over to our house for dinner.
Friends that have lived in China for 13 years
that are here for a year on sabbatical
and are
of course
fluent
in Mandarin.
It was such a great evening!
I made tacos
because really,
what’s more Chinese than ~ ahem ~ tacos.
And once the boys got over their initial shock of perfect mandarin flowing out of the mouth of a very white American man they opened up
big time.
Had I even known how downright confused and lost my precious boys were I would have had them over the day after we returned home.
Jet lag and all.
We found out so much that night.
Some good.
Some not so good.
Some downright awful.
Things that, as their mother, I am still processing.
For starters Jacob and Joey had no stinkin idea that they were here to stay.
No.
Idea.
The fact that for nearly 3 months they have woken up day after day after day after day and wondered if today is the day that
they
will
be
sent
back
is nearly too much to bear.
You could have sucked the life right out of me when those words came out of their mouth and
I’m pretty sure a piece of my heart shattered at that moment.
Sweet, sweet boys.
They are going to be your parents and love you and take care of you forever they were told.
“Impossible.” Jacob answered.
Oh my heart.
He wanted to know if we were “happy with them.”
As if we were still trying them on for size and about to activate some kind of return policy.
Sweet boy.
Sweet innocent boy.
If only you knew the depth of the love that we have for you.
At one point, he began to catch a glimpse of that secure future and somewhat understand and the look on his face when it dawned on him that he really does get to stay was a moment I shall not soon forget.
He.
Lit.
Up.
We had some funny moments mixed in with some things that were very hard to hear.
Funny things like, when they were told about our upcoming move, they said that we had too much stuff, and there was no way it was going to fit in our new house.
Would the toys come with us?
The swimming pool?
The clothes?
The couch?
The window blinds?
Yes.
No.
Yes.
Yes.
No.
When we found out that Joey has been having nightmares, we told him that he could come into our room and wake us up or call for us, and we would come comfort him.
He liked that idea.
And, for curiosity’s sake, I asked our friend to ask him what he did in China when he had nightmares.
Joey’s response was that one time he got up to go tell his foster parents but one of the other boys told him not to go in there because
they
might
be
making
a
baby.
Yeah.
Older child adoption…never a dull moment…or an awkward one for that matter…
So, the apparent confusion and silent chaos that they were living is ever so slowly being replaced by truth.
Replaced.
By.
Love.
…and from that…there’s no going back.
“For God is not a God of confusion but of peace….”1 Corinthians 14:33
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Sonia M.
Sonia and her husband John are an Air Force family with 6 boys ages 14, 13, 8, 8, 7, & 7. 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 just returned from China with their two newest sons and are navigating their way through life attempting to glorify God in all that they do.
by Russell Moore, adoption is identity. It tells us who we are in the Lord. 
