Adoption and Faith Archives - Page 21 of 44

October 25, 2013

Forgiveness

“Forgiveness.”

This is the word the Lord has given me recently.

Quite a while ago I stopped posting about the unwelcome guest in our home: Trauma. I wish I could say that absence of posting = absence of the impact of trauma. Not.so.much.

It’s been nearly four years since we were first introduced, and I realize I need to take some time to ‘heal thyself’ in order to maximize my ability to help us become a healing home.

I still ask the Lord to change my hard heart, to give me the patience to respond with compassion, the strength to persevere through the trenches and joy to rise above the chaos. I still make the same mistakes. Not because He isn’t answering my prayers. Because I am so very human. I get in the way of His work in me every day. I.am.not.bragging. I’ve been desperately asking God to show me why I am so insistent upon living as the former self, rather than as the new creation He has made me to be.

And He has! It’s all about forgiveness.

Heaven knows I don’t deserve the depth of forgiveness God has extended to me. I can’t begin to express how thankful I am for His redemption. With God’s grace, I have been able to overcome deep wounds and forgive others who have hurt me, only because He has shown me how! But now comes a revelation that shakes me to the core.

I am withholding forgiveness. I am casting blame. Not audibly, but clearly in my heart. And it is spilling over like poison, tainting everything it touches.

What a horrible admission! But maybe you’ve been there? Maybe you are like me and didn’t realize this is brewing in your heart? Let the healing begin!

I realized that I was so beaten down with the impact of my child’s trauma that somewhere in the process I began to blame him. In my heart I held him accountable for the countless hours we spend on the road for therapy, for the constant attention he requires, for taking my focus off the other children, for every time our plans change suddenly because of his reaction or response, for the fact that he must always be supervised, for the fact that I am exhausted because every moment must be a teaching one, and on and on and on… I blamed him for relationships lost, conflict gained, misunderstandings, judgment, and criticism.

Truth is, as critical as someone else may be of my parenting, I am my worst critic.

And so, I was also blaming myself. I couldn’t understand why he would do things he shouldn’t or wouldn’t do things he should, why he would retreat so deeply within himself, why he would lash out for no apparent reason, why he would lie about something so c.r.a.z.y and obvious, and why MY response would typically escalate his reaction. And so I also blamed ME!

Forgiveness starts here!

My child doesn’t need to know that I blame him or that I need to forgive him. He doesn’t need that burden. But it is something that must happen in my heart. Today I began by granting forgiveness…to myself and to him. I will never be a perfect parent. At the end of the day I hope to say I did my best (totally relying on God!).

Raising a child requires commitment and investment. Raising a child with neurological, physical or emotional conditions requires even more. And in the words of Dr. Karyn Purvis, “…the longer a child experienced neglect or harm, the more invested you’re going to have to become in their healing.” In an effort to help my child heal, I’ve focused too much on ‘fixing’ him. That has proven to be frustrating and exhausting because in the process to ‘fix,’ I have not been able to appreciate who he is, making this adventure more about the destination than the journey.

He is treasured. He is valuable. He is wanted. He is a child whom God has entrusted to me. Not so that I can fix him. So that He can change my heart. And so that I can shape, nurture and protect my child.

God has given me a firsthand opportunity to live out Scripture. It is one thing to say, “Sure, I can love my enemies (because I can keep them at a distance); I can speak for those without a voice (because, in all honesty, I get to choose how much effort I put into it); I can fight against injustice (because I can quit when I’m tired).”

What am I to do when the person who acts most like my enemy lives in my home? When the person whose voice I must be doesn’t want to hear? When my fight for injustice is mocked? When I am at the end of my rope but the battle rages on?

Then I lean in close to my sovereign God, and I trust that He will never leave me (Jos 1:5), that He works ALL things for His glory and for the good of those who love Him (Rom 8:28), that His grace is sufficient (2 Cor 12:9), that He gives me hope (1 Pet 1:3), that His strength is enough (Phil 4:13, Heb 12:12).

God is more than able! He has loved me in spite of my hard heart, and He has made a way for me to love. Healing begins with forgiveness!

To HIM be glory!

*Disclaimer* I am not a single parent. My husband and I are very much a team with the attitude of me-and-you-against-the-world-babe, but this is my heart issue.

___________________________

Connie is crazy about her Lord, crazy about her husband, and crazy about her 11 kids. You can read more about life in her family and what God is teaching her on their family blog: http://k6comehome.blogspot.com/

October 21, 2013October 21, 2013

Too Much

The conversation has become an all too familiar one. The hurt, frustrations and tears came to the surface with four simple words spoken softly as I hugged her:

I can’t get pregnant.

Having walked the road of infertility, I could identify with her feelings of hopelessness, heartache, and anger. How can something that seems so natural be so difficult to achieve? Why is (seemingly) everyone else pregnant? What is God trying to teach me? Why is it so hard?

But what stuck in my mind is something she repeated a couple times: I know God won’t give me more than I can handle, but today I feel like I just can’t handle it.

It was too much.

Haven’t we all been there? That place where it all just feels like too much? Too much fear of the unknown. Too much of a challenge. Too much heartache. Too much pain. Too much to endure. Simply too much.

When we reach that place of too much, we often remind ourselves that God won’t give us more than we can handle, which leaves us feeling like maybe we just have to suck it up a bit more because these challenging circumstances, this life, should be well within our limits.

Do you realize that “God won’t give you more than you can handle” isn’t even in the Bible? Seriously, it’s not. I dare say, God DOES give us more than we can handle. It happens all the time in big and small ways, doesn’t it?

Demanding toddlers.

Job uncertainty.

Infertility.

Job loss.

Death of a child…or parent…or spouse.

A failed adoption.

A terminally ill spouse.

A stillborn child.

A job transfer.

An unexpected diagnosis.

Isn’t it all just too much for us to handle?

I can think back to some hard stuff in my life. The struggles with infertility. The 11 month wait that stretched into an almost 4 year wait to adopt. The big detour in our adoption from China. Tackling an independent international adoption. It was all too much for ME to handle.
I don’t like change
or the unknown
or uncertainty
or waiting.
But GOD? God could handle it…and HE did…although it was often only in hindsight that I could see how he worked things out. It may not always be the ending to the story that I may have envisioned, but I can see his hand at work. I can see how HE got me through. (And I am grateful that HE is the one writing the story of my life.)
My job (although I failed miserably at this at times) was to depend on HIM, lean on HIM, cry out to HIM. Doing my best to walk in obedience, and trust what I knew in my head to be true, even when my heart couldn’t feel it.

It is about depending on HIM intentionally hour-by-hour or even minute-by-minute saying, “I can’t do this God. Please give me strength for the next half hour.” (Or the next procedure. Or the next ovulation test. Or the next family gathering. Or the next paperwork gliche. Or the next interview.)

Years ago, as I sat in a parking lot collecting myself before heading in to see the fertility doctor for diagnostic testing that would predict our likelihood of ever conceiving, I put my head in my hands and prayed, “I just can’t do this. I can’t walk in those doors. I can’t smile at the receptionist. I can’t hear what the doctor will likely tell me.” And as clearly as if it were spoken aloud, I heard in my heart: My strength is made perfect in your weakness.

Now THAT is biblical. His strength is made perfect in {my} weakness.

“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, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.

2 Corinthians 12:9

Because of HIM, I walked through those doors and learned that our chances of conceiving were dismal at best.
Because of HIM, we somehow made it through an adoption trip full of surprises and heartache.
Because of HIM, we were able to complete an independent international adoption that most would have never attempted.
Because of HIM, we are able. Not because He won’t give us more than we can handle, but because when He does give us more than we can handle, HE is able. HE equips. HE sustains. HE directs.
HIS power is made perfect in OUR weakness.

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18 years in the classroom as a teacher is nothing compared to parenting three little ones at home full-time. Through their three daughters, God has revealed Himself most clearly to them. He not only worked a miracle in giving them their biological daughter, He continued to show Himself in mighty ways throughout adoption journeys in China and Bhutan that were anything but normal. You can read more about their family on their personal blog We Are Family.

October 16, 2013May 16, 2022

Of My Own

“If Mommy gets a baby in her belly, will you send me back?” she asked him, with nervous eyes searching the floor, inhaling the shame of those words as if they were her indictment.

It’s often near the surface for this one — not the year she was “chosen” and a mommy and daddy flew all the way across the ocean to look her in the eyes and call her daughter — but the too-many, earlier years that still seem to weigh heavier. These days, she lives buoyant and giddy. Her eyes have found a sparkle and we see them more than we see those hands that spent nearly a year awkwardly covering them. My little girl laughs. A lot. And this week when I hugged her I could tell her body wanted to melt (not stiffen) in my arms.

But just within her reach is the shame she feels about her life on the other side, when her given last name tied her to no one. One phrase or question or hint of her past and I watch those eyes, which just harnessed a sparkle, go dark.

Adoption saved her and it haunts her, because of its open-ended definition to her. It’s still a question.

She, like many of the rest of us, has yet to reconcile the power of this one act.

+++

I hadn’t even kissed their foreheads or tickled their feet and this stranger’s words about them stung.

“Oh, you’re adopting? Just you wait. Once you have them at home I’m sure you’ll be able to have children of your own.”

A phrase I’ve heard a hundred times, and it never ceases to give my heart pause. Children of your own, words that expose a subconscious understanding of adoption as charitable affection versus primal love. As if these, once-adopted ones, were somehow, not truly … mine.

There is a distinction in our language about those children, once adopted, and their biological counterparts that reveals much more about the state of our hearts — the state of my heart — than it does about the children to whom it’s referring.

That simple phrase, often spoken by beautifully-intentioned people**, reveals the shame under which my daughter sometimes lives. But she’s not alone, she just lives an outward existence that represents the battle each one of us fights in our understanding of Him.

It is inherent to human flesh. We are interlopers, or so we think, hanging on to the coattails of another person’s inheritance. Certainly we’re not “one of His own”, we hold deep-down; instead we grasp at something we believe will never really name us. We are simply recipients of His charitable affections, we subconsciously reason.

Our language about physical adoption reveals the gaps in our understanding about how He has adopted us. And those words that sting when I hear them make me hurt more than just for my children, but for the representation of His name.

Most can’t imagine a love beyond what we see in the natural as the most intense form of love — the kind birthed when a mother’s body breaks open to give life to one that shared her flesh and her breath. How could it be that a mother could not only love, but see as her own, a child that her womb did not form and who wears another mama’s skin? We see the struggle of attaching, mother to child and child to mother, that so often happens in adoption, and it only reinforces our subconscious belief that true love between mother and child is only inherited through blood … and not won.

+++

When her eyes fill with the shame of her history and her heart begins to clamp behind them and adoption is still her question — am I truly “in” or just posing – I see me. I see a hundred weak yes’s as just plain weak and all the things I’ve declared with my mouth that my body never fulfilled and the times I poured out prayers to Him only to forget Him, the real source of my strength, hours later.

I see a never-ending list of failures.

I live, subtly, as if I am on the outside of that fence. Just like her.

All things that could be wiped away in an instant if I understood the power of His having adopted me. This reality changes everything.

I am a child of His own, this God-Man who wrapped His holiness around my sin-stained existence and renamed me.

Adopted.

Grafted.

I am one who is marked by His name more than any of my failures.

A child who knows that adoption isn’t really about the past that haunts her, the forever stamp of separate, not included, but instead the name of the King who fought, hard for her — she wears a love that is fierce.

She’s a force with which to be reckoned, this wildly-loved former-orphan.

Me.

+++

So when I hear that phrase “a child of your own” separating the children under my roof from the one my womb will bear, and my heart saddens at the misunderstanding of this wild-love that’s been birthed within my home* among children who wear another mama’s skin, I can’t help but think of Him.

He calls me “His own” when the world and my heart wants to label me forever severed.

Adoption is His great declaration.

*For the mama who has children “of her own” wearing different skin: This love we birthed, when we signed countless papers and spent sleepless nights waiting and fell in love with a picture or a name before we heard a heartbeat, is other but still very much His. To love them fiercely, like blood, requires an unnatural impartation of His love, in and through us. It’s not normal, but it is fully possible. In Him.

If you’re wrestling under the weight of the “not yet” that you feel towards them or the “not yet” that they demonstrate towards you, don’t shrink back. This gap is merely His opportunity to move. Now, more than ever, it’s your time to pray and to ask and to hope for Him to bind your family with a beautiful love that can only point back to His name.

**For those looking for a new term: There is grace to learn, and learn now. If you are like me, you have likely been one who learns what not to say by saying it several times the wrong way . You are in good company.

The term we and many other adoptive families prefer to use to distinguish a child born into a family versus one adopted into a family is “biological child”. We, personally, prefer not to refer to our children as “adopted children” as we see adoption as having been a one-time event. We just call them our children. (And this leaves room for all the other adjectives that define them;)). If we need to distinguish, we’ll say “we have four children who were adopted.” But that’s just our personal preference. No need to stumble over your words around us, we’re all learning — there is grace for you to stumble while you learn!

Photos compliments of Mandie Joy (who is currently fostering a baby, stateside! Pop on over to her blog to catch a glimpse of those baby-toes.)

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Sara is a wife to Nate and a mother of four (and one on the way) whose birth canal bridged the expanse between the United States and Africa. After almost a decade of Christian life she was introduced to pain and perplexity and, ultimately, intimacy with Jesus. God met her and moved her when life stopped working. And out of the overflow of this perplexity, came her writing.You can read more of her writing at Every Bitter Thing Is Sweet.

October 9, 2013October 9, 2013

A Peek from His Vantage Point

Lately God has been inviting me to look at our adoptions from His vantage point–kind of like a bird’s eye view/big picture perspective. I want to share this with you because I have found this perspective to be so refreshing and helpful. It has lifted and empowered me to love my children better. How kind of our Father to take my hand and say, “Come up here for a moment, Beth. I have something I want to show you…..” The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail. Your people will rebuild the ancient ruins and will raise up the age-old foundations; you will be called Repairer of Broken Walls, Restorer of Streets to Dwell In. (Isaiah 58:11-12 AMP) God’s clear intent expressed throughout scripture is to restore who we are meant to be. We are talking full recovery. His holy intent is to wholly restore!

For many of our children there are generations of “ancient ruins” and “age-old foundations” that God wants to rebuild, and many whose inheritance apart from adoption is not one of wholeness and abundant life.

How amazing is it that we can be a part of the giving and receiving of a new inheritance, of a complete legacy shift, so that future generations no longer inherit abandonment, rejection, alcoholism, abuse, neglect, or other manifestations of a broken world. To see our children embrace love and then have the freedom to give love, to see them learn to enjoy life and to make plans for their future, rather than only decisions for survival that day–this is just incredible! Oh what a shift adoption is making in the trajectory of a generational line! Is this not amazing to be a part of?! It is the gospel at work in our families, and it is powerful and oh so good!!

Our God thinks and moves generationally, not merely circumstantially. He is in the circumstance, in the moment, absolutely! I’m sure you are like me and know Him to be “an ever-present help in time of need.” (Psalm 46:1) But from this birds’ eye perspective, we see that God is up to some amazing things with our adoptions or fostering that go way beyond the circumstance of the moment.

So, what you are fighting for right now–reams of paper work in order to bring your child home, government regulations and international laws, meltdowns or rages, attachment or trauma issues–may have more to do with the seeds in your child that will bear fruit in future generations than it has to do with the circumstance you are in right now.

The adoptions of our children, Kristina, Pasha, Andrei, and Sergei, were not just about Kristina, Pasha, Andrei, and Sergei. God is showing me that our adoptions were also about their children, and their children’s children for generations to come.

The truth is that when Stephen and I were first called to adopt we didn’t see the grand vista that Father God was seeing of the generations to come. We saw our children, and that was grand enough for us! That God would rescue our children from their relinquished state was overwhelming in itself, and still has the power to bring me to my knees. Such a thing is too lofty for me to attain, as the psalmist says in Psalm 139.

Our intent was to adopt children; God’s intent was to change the lives of generations of children to come.

And you know what we have found to be even more exciting?! These legacy shifts are not limited to our adopted and foster children. Adoption changes us and our birth children too. Listen to what our daughter Rachel wrote on our Hope at Home blog: I could write a book on this experience, on adoption and how it has affected my life, and my family’s life, but what I really want to emphasize is that adoption has not only dramatically changed me, but has come to define my life and my view of the world around me. As many of you surely know, melding individuals who previously knew nothing of each other into the most intimate of relationships–a family–is a weighty venture that has the potential to redeem and restore broken lives, for both those who are adopted and the family into which they are adopted. Our adoptions have changed and shaped my life completely. When I meet new people I talk about adoption; when I wrote my college application essays I wrote about adoption; when I picked my major I thought about adoption; when I show friends family photos I talk about adoption. I say all this to show that adoption doesn’t just change those who are brought into your family – it changes you to the core. It expands you, challenges you, and fills you up until it overflows into every area of your life.One thing I know for certain is that God’s love is infinite, his heart is universal, and his vision is endless. God bridged the gap between each of my family members, connecting us with threads of supernatural love that cannot be broken and that pulled and shaped us into a wholly unconventional and wholly beautiful family. Yes it’s hard, and there were bumps and bruises on all sides, from having to share my friends with Kristina to getting used to having smelly, loud boys in the house (who were also handsome and wonderful of course). And yes my family doesn’t look like many peoples’. But thank God that he is strong enough to heal the broken parts in all of us, and to not be constricted by terms like “normal families”. I love my family, and I love God for bringing it together in such a powerful and beautiful way.

To be honest, it’s not like I wake up every morning and contemplate the grandness of God’s purposes for future generations! I wake up thinking about my needs, my children’s needs, grocery lists, school meetings and car pools. It doesn’t come naturally for me to think in terms of living for something bigger than myself, but it does come supernaturally!

So as you and I are living out our days, parenting our children in the circumstance of the now, let us remember that every prayer that we pray for our child, every word of life that we speak into and over him or her, every breakthrough in attachment, every sacrifice of love, every dinner time conversation–it all is an inheritance we are leaving for the next generation.

Adoption is having a ripple effect into eternity, friends! This is a work of love that is often costly, but when I see from God’s perspective the beautiful work of enduring love that He has invited me to co-labor in, I am humbled and honestly overwhelmed to be a part of something so grand in it’s scope. When I see how He is restoring me and my whole family, when I see that He has invited me to participate in the breaking of generational bondages, the canceling of curses, the building streets to dwell in, the rebuilding of ancient ruins, and the restoring of stolen heritages that will affect future generations, I am excited once again to love my children in and through every stage of their lives.

Father, thank you for this invitation to co-labor with you in Your amazing work of restoring and enduring love. I am not up to the task, but oh how exciting to be able to be a part of such a beautiful thing with the One who is the Great Adopter and Restorer, the One who is able. Lord, I yield myself once again to Your plan for my family and I thank you for your great love that extends into the generations to come. Would You cause the inheritance that I leave to be one of eternal significance and a blessing to my children’ children’s children? Thank You and Amen.

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: Beth Templeton

Beth has been married to her husband Stephen for 27 years. They have seven children, ages 18-24. Several years after giving birth to three girls God called their family to the adventure and blessing of adoption. In 2000 they brought home a brother and sister, ages 5 and 10, from Russia. Then they returned to the same orphanage 18 months later and brought home two more brothers, ages 7 and 10. Beth’s heart has been deeply and forever changed as she has watched the love of Father God poured out on her whole family through adoption. She leads Hope at Home, a ministry dedicated to help adoptive and foster parents encounter the Father’s heart for their families, partnering with God to transform orphans into sons and daughters. For more parenting insight and encouragement in the Lord, go to hopeathome.org.

October 7, 2013October 7, 2013

Knowing Who You Are {The Spirit of Adoption}

It was a warm, beautiful day in Guangzhou. David and Kaikai were walking a little ways behind Grace, Lily and myself, so the girls and I stopped to look out over the lake. A (non-Chinese) man walked up next to us. “You have beautiful daughters,” he exclaimed.I thanked him and continued to talk to my girls.”Is their father Chinese?” he asked.”They are adopted,” I explained.”I see. Why didn’t you want to have children of your own?” he then asked.I had an instant flash of anger that this man would ask such a question in front of my girls. “They are my own,” I answered curtly.”Oh, you know what I mean,” he continued, oblivious to my irritation. “And what about their real mother?”
That was when I decided that it was time to leave. I turned to him and explained quite clearly that I was their real mother, since I was the one who loved them and took care of them and lived with them.

“Yeah,” Lily added in her characteristic, firm way, and then we walked away.Later on, I asked my precious Lily if she felt hurt by what that man had said. Her response surprised me at first. “No,” she said, “That sort of thing doesn’t bother me. I know that you’re my real mom,” and then she gave me a hug.But when I thought about her response later, I wasn’t so surprised, because my sweet Lily
knows who she is.

Lily is a beloved daughter.
She is absolutely treasured.
She is accepted, cherished and greatly loved.
She knows that she takes my breath away.
She knows that there is nothing that she can do to lose David’s and my love for her.

She is ours and we are hers.

Lily is so secure in who she is, that it caused me to ask myself,

“Do I know who I am, like that?”When the world tells me I am not good enough, or that I am unwanted and unloved, does my heart respond with the truth?Do I say, I am a beloved daughter!?

I am treasured, cherished, accepted and greatly loved.

Do I know that I take my Father’s breath away?!

Am I aware that there is nothing that I can do to lose my Father’s love?

I am His and He is mine.Oh Father, it’s true!

I am Your beloved daughter and there is nothing that anyone can do or say to change that. Let this fact grow deeper and deeper into my heart. Let it be my identity.And dear friends, may it be your identity, as well!

May you know who you are in Christ . . .

a daughter/son of the King!

Absolutely beloved.

Thank you, Father, that is who we really and truly are!

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David and Sarah have been joyfully married for almost 18 years. They have been blessed with 6 wonderful children (one homegrown son, a daughter from Ukraine and four children from China) and are never sure if they’re “done yet”! They love Jesus and are grateful that He has recently led them to the urban core of Kansas City where they are learning to give their lives away as they build His church in the inner city. You can read more about what God is doing in their lives at Our Un(convent)ional Life.

October 2, 2013November 13, 2013

The Lonely Road

Sometimes following after God can be a lonely road.

And I don’t really want to imply for one minute that I have a clue about real
loneliness,
nor give the impression that I have experienced real sacrifice
because I don’t JACK.

But I will say,
that when we follow God after the passions He has put on our heart
there can often be a feeling of
loneliness…
isolation…
of being misunderstood.

I feel that way sometimes.

But the Lord reminded me this past Sunday,
as I contemplated our adoption story,
that sometimes our feelings of loneliness
are really only indicators of our dependance on others to fulfill our
emotional/social needs.

A revelation that maybe we have been seeking comfort and companionship from others only
and not from our Faithful Friend.

Evidence of a possible reliance on others approval for our actions
instead of confidence in His plan and love for us.

…or maybe it’s just me that does that. 😉

But, if it is not just me that feels that way
and you have been feeling that way too

In regards to whatever that Lord has put on your heart to be passionate
about.

Let me encourage you…

I may feel lonely
but I am NEVER alone.

And when I feel lonely,
it is just a time to press in to His presence
and lean on Him to be my friend,
my comforter,
my encourager.

When I spend time in His presence
I can truly get a glimpse of who He has created me to be,
and I get a clearer view of the things in me that need to fall away.

I can rest in Him
and find strength
and grace.

And then my cup is overflowing
to be able to pour out to those around me.

_____________________________________________

Anna Lokey and her husband Shaun have four girls (one from China) and FINALLY a boy (also from China). She’s a normal mom, living a life for God, raising a family that does the same, homeschooling, and trying to keep up with everyone’s schedules. She says, “If I can get my kids to school and gymnastics on time and then fix a real meal for dinner, it’s been a good day!” You can read more about them and their anything but LoKEY life on her blog www.anythingbutlokey.com.

September 30, 2013

Praying For Our Children {While We Wait}

Perhaps the most awkward season of parenting is this one where an adoption is imminent, but miles of ocean and red tape still separate the waiting ones from the arms so ready to embrace them forever. As I go about my normal routine, they are always on my mind. Are they carrying water right now? Is someone coaching them to memorize the alphabet yet? What sounds fill their ears as they fall asleep? Crickets? Music? The words, beautiful or not, of the adults around them? Do they feel safe? Will they be terrified of me?

This kind of wondering and speculating can drive a mama’s heart to frantic anxiety because these children feel so real, so ours, and yet so out of reach.

Or are they?

When I was little, my mom used to tell me that when I wanted to talk to Jesus, I could ask Him to pull me onto his lap. That image has never left me and now, as I long to pull the girls onto my lap and meet their every need, it seems so obvious to just ask Jesus to do that for all three of us while we wait.

Throughout the day, my eyes close and He whispers “I’ve got you. What do you need?” The God who is not constrained by distance or time can gather us in the same space and doesn’t He love to build and restore? He’s the God who loves to make something out of nothing, to take what is not and make it real.

And so I ask Him to – even now when they don’t know I’m coming and my imagination of their days could be drastically inaccurate. Even now as I wonder what their personalities are like and if I’ll get to teach them to read, pull their first tooth, be the first one to say “I love you”. As paralyzing as the 10,000 miles separating me from the girls may seem now, life has taught me that even after those miles are crossed, fear and lost time and language barriers and trauma surface to remind that physical nearness is not the cure-all answer to our hearts’ ache. The kinds of wounds we’re dealing with here cannot be healed by cuddles and bedtime stories and back logged vaccinations alone. These are wounds, mine and theirs, that need the touch of a perfect Father – and we happen to have One who knows no limitations of time, space, and distance.

So when that Father sits beside their African beds while I eat my American lunch, why wouldn’t I ask Him to begin His work in them (and in me as their mother)…even now. I ask Him to begin building up their little hearts to know me, trust me, want me. I ask Him to gather their broken places in such a way that they will feel safe with me.

And you? Maybe the distance you feel is not miles, but invisible walls around a child’s heart. Maybe you’re a teacher whose little students walk home to empty refrigerators and absent parents and the few hours you have with them seem so insignificant to heal. This is for you, too.

Below is a PDF download of the verses I am praying over the girls (and have been praying over my yet-undiscovered waiting children for years). Many of them are from the Old Testament and I know that can be a hang up. They were specific to people and places and battles then, yes, but Jesus is the same yesterday and today and forever. Those stories, words, and promises are recorded so that we know what we can ask. The history of those men and woman long ago is a promise for us to cling to here and now – to remember that just because our problems might be smaller than those of Gideon and David and Noah, our God is not.

He is waiting for us to ask Him to be bigger.

To access the full size pdf, click here.

PrayingForOurChildren

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Mandie Joy is a foster parent and soon-to-be adoptive mama of two beautiful little girls who are waiting in Africa. She blogs at www.seeingjoy.com.

September 25, 2013September 24, 2013

Difficult conversations . . . try combining infertility and adoption

As adoptive parents, we all know this day is coming.

That day where your child starts asking questions that you can’t answer. The thought of it breaks your heart, and so you try to prepare yourself, but you can never really be prepared.

Somehow these conversations always happen when I am putting on my makeup in the morning. Captive audience, I guess!

Grace: “Mommy, when are you going to have a baby in your tummy?”

Me: “Well, baby, I don’t know. Only God knows if that will ever happen.”

Grace: “I was a baby in your tummy.” (she said this directly and without question)

And there it is; the question I knew would come, heading straight for me like a freight train.

Me: “Sweetheart, you may not have grown in my tummy, but you grew in my heart.

Grace: “Well, whose tummy was I in, Mommy?”

Silence. Deep breaths.

Will it be enough for now, Lord?

“Peace, Child, be still and know that I am God.”

Me: “Sweetheart, we don’t know, but you were always in my heart.”

Grace: “Ok, Mommy!” (she hugged me and ran off her usual happy self)

For now, as an almost four year old, that is all she needs to hear, but I know a day is coming when she will not be satisfied with that statement of truth. That is OK and natural, but won’t make it any less hard. I hate that I won’t have more information for her. I hate that it will hurt her and could possibly rock her to the very core. But I must have faith because I know that God will be with her on this journey, guiding her, loving her and protecting her. My job is to teach her about Christ and His Sacrifice and how her worth and significance comes only from Him!

As I look at our recently adopted older Chinese son, Anthony, who has told us that his first mommy as he calls her (he is referring to his birth mother) was bad because she threw him in the trash, all I can do is pray to the One who heals all hurts, knowing that only He can give Anthony the strength and ability to forgive.

Naturally, as their mother, it breaks my heart to see my children suffer, just as it broke God’s heart to watch His only Son die on the cross, taking our sin upon Himself. And yet, God allowed it, because it was the only way we could spend eternity forever with Him. Praise God for His amazing mercy and grace.

Thank you, Father, for your steadfast love. You are our rock and our salvation. Whom shall I fear?!

_________________________________________

After struggling with infertility for 5 years, God led Suzanne and her husband Adam to His Plan A for their lives—adoption! Their daughter, Grace Lihua, came into their lives on May 8, 2011 (Mother’s Day) from Fuzhou City, Fujian Province, China. And, their son, Anthony Jianyou, joined their family on January 14, 2013 from Shanghai. After a career in politics, Suzanne is thankful for God’s provision in their lives that now allows her to work part time as a Pilates instructor while home schooling their children and working as a part of the WAGI leadership team. You can follow their adoption journey and life on their blog, Surpassing Greatness.

September 23, 2013October 16, 2013

The Other Mama

My 6 year old daughter has just begun to ask some very thought provoking questions surrounding her birth mother lately. She’s my thinking child, so although this doesn’t surprise me, I must admit some of the questions…oh.my…let’s just say I’m thankful they have come mostly at night in her bed, with the lights off…so she can’t see the tears that roll down my cheeks. We’re entering a whole new chapter in this adoptive parenting journey and begging for wisdom and revelation from the Lord to help us wade and part these waters.

And at the same time, I’m often in awe of how the Lord has been preparing us for these moments, long before Ashley came home. I’ve mentioned before that I worked in the domestic side of adoption for a few years before transitioning over to the international. Over those years, I worked with birth mothers. And you better believe I took mental notes and had dozens of “light bulb, heart pounding, Holy Spirit” moments with these women. Some of them I knew for months and others I met literally in the delivery room or the day after.

But one thing I knew about each one of them….as hard as they tried to hide it, or as openly as they grieved, was that this was a gut.wrenching.process, and one that they would never, ever forget.

One day the Lord gave me this verse:

Isaiah 49:15
“Can a mother forget her nursing child? Can she feel no love for the child she has borne? But even if that were possible, I would not forget you!”

The very God of the universe in His Word, gave an answer to our children…”Did she forget me?”

Can you see it? “…even if that were possible…” which means….it’s NOT. And even if it were…HE WOULD NOT!!!

Meet little miss “A.” She’s just a week new y’all and has the most perfect baby skin I’ve ever seen!!!

Her mama, “M” called me from our church’s Crisis Pregnancy Center a few years back. She was pregnant was interested in adoption. We began meeting and a few months later, a baby girl was born. I watched her do the most courageous thing a woman can do….hand her child over to another mama and daddy to love and raise as their child. And as I watched her grieve, I prayed deep for the woman that had left my baby girl at the orphanage gate for someone else to raise. It’s as if the Lord just allowed me a glimpse of her grief through these women in my care.

A year later, she called back. Pregnant again. And, choosing life for her child, a few months later I stood in the L&D hallway yelling for them to run FAST because their son was about to be born. And she did it again, this time knowing full well the grief to come. Don’t miss that this girl had made some very poor choices, but she had made the most important one for her children….LIFE.

This time around, she’s ready to be a mama. She and her family will raise baby A and get to experience all she hasn’t gotten to with her other children. And rest assured, she has not forgotten them….their pictures hang on her walls. As I left her house, I wondered if Ashley’s birth parents had photos of her….she wasn’t abandoned as a newborn. I’d never wondered that before.

When questions come that I don’t have answers to, I go to the Word. It tells me that it is impossible for a mother to forget her child. And it drives me to pray deep for the two women that will never know this side of heaven how the Lord had His eyes on these babies, and how He placed them where they are loved and treasured.

Oh, how I wish I could send you pictures. For your walls. Just so you would know.

Thanks for the reminder, M…..you are one of the bravest women I’ve ever met, sister.
_____________________________

Emily and Jay have been married for 11 years and have 5 childen–Avery 8, Ally 6, Annalyse 4, Ashley 3, and (finally) our BOY, Asher 2. Ashley and Asher were adopted from China and were both special needs adoptions. Emily spends her days chasing toddlers and waiting in line at carpool. Her favorite place in the world is in her van, all alone with the worship music blaring! She would count it an honor to have you be encouraged at www.ourhimpossiblejourney.blogspot.com.

September 20, 2013September 20, 2013

Abandonment

Abandonment.

Conscious or unconscious, it is a fear that plagues the adopted child.

Jesus is teaching me, gently and quietly, about this fear and how it takes shape in my own son. I don’t like to think about it, because I want to believe that my son knows he is safe, secure and loved. I don’t like the thought of him feeling afraid or insecure. But the reality is, his beautiful life’s story has a fear woven into it that I may never be able to truly comprehend. And I pray that someday the love of Jesus reaches deep within and heals its scars.

Sometimes I think people believe that when a child is adopted young, that they don’t remember. We think that they happily move from the arms of a grieving birth mother into the arms of a loving adoptive family and never know the difference. And we think that surely after they have been with their adoptive family for a while and seem happy and adjusted, everything must be just roses and butterflies.

My son’s tears tell me otherwise.

We have been incredibly blessed with a beautiful and smooth transition as our son entered our family from his foster family. He didn’t even cry when we took him from the adoption agency’s office back to our hotel. As a matter of fact, he fell asleep in my arms as we rode in the taxi, captivated by our dark-haired angel. At first, the nights were hardest. He would wake up multiple times, screaming and crying. But as time went on, the nights got easier and the days were full of laughter and joy.

He transitioned well into preschool, crying when I left him but stopping quickly after and enjoying the day with his classmates. Leaving him in the church nursery has gotten easier. He has stayed away from us overnight with grandparents. In most ways, he is a completely normal toddler- fully adjusted and secure.

But sometimes.

Sometimes I see the look of panic rise in his eyes when I begin to walk away, even just up the stairs in our home, that can only come from a deep place of hurt and fear. In those moments, he isn’t just a typical toddler wanting his mommy. He is a child who has been abandoned by all things familiar and safe and is overcome by fear of it happening again.

I’ll be honest. Sometimes it is exhausting.

There are days when it seems especially close to the surface and it doesn’t take much to set him off. Being a mom of three, I can’t always just drop everything and hold him. But I am learning that convenience is secondary to fulfilling the need my son has to know he is safe. Loved. Secure.

I know that as he grows, we will continue to deal with the scars left by his past. There may be emotions and situations that are hard to understand. But I am thankful for the grace of God that gives us wisdom and discernment in those situations. And I fully believe in the power of Jesus Christ that can transform a heart that has been abandoned into a heart that finds its complete security in Him. Because, after all, Jesus knows. He was abandoned too.

“About three in the afternoon Jesus cried out in a loud voice, ‘Eli, Eli, lema sabacthani?’ (which means ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?'” Matthew 27:46

Oh, beautiful Savior, that He would endure abandonment from God the Father, just so he could feel and understand the pain my son feels. Jesus knows.

If you are another adoptive parent dealing with the grief of your child, take heart! You are not alone. Jesus Himself understands the pain of your child and is able to give you the strength you need to love them through their pain.

Maybe you yourself have buried the fear of abandonment deep down inside of you from a past experience that sometimes takes shape in fear. Be encouraged today that Jesus understands. And He can heal that pain, remove the fear and replace it with the security of knowing you are His. Nothing can change that.

Today I am so very thankful for a Savior who loves my son so much more deeply than I could ever dream of.

And I wait in hopeful expectation of the day when my son realizes that he was never truly abandoned, but that His Heavenly Father was with him all along.

_____________________________

Heather and her husband Derick stay busy raising their two biological daughters and their son who came to their family from South Korea in 2012. They are youth pastors at their local church and Heather is a director of a private Christian preschool. When she is not working or spending time loving on her family, you can find her sharing coffee with friends, writing, making music, or getting creative [messy] in the kitchen. You can follow their family’s journey at www.ourheart-n-seoul.com.

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Category: Adoption and Faith