Adoption and Faith Archives - Page 25 of 44

April 12, 2013

What Else Would You Rather Be Doing?

Complaining
Sometimes a mom just has to have a good complaining session, you know what I mean? Well, at least I know I do. It’s never fruitful or helpful to let the session last too long, but sometimes I just have to “get it out.” I remember driving my big extended 12 passenger van one day fully engaged in one of these “sessions.” I was concerned about multiple issues with our children, all of which were either rooted in adoption issues or were exacerbated by them. At that point all seven of our children were living at home and in school, and I remember feeling simply overwhelmed by all the needs. So, I’m driving the van, painfully aware of all that was not right in our family, and completely unaware at the moment of all that was good! And that led me to thinking how I just wished I could just go away– by myself! Anyone else “out there” know that feeling?
The “I’m DONE!” feeling?

The Lord’s Response
I’m sharing this with you because I’ll always remember that particular complaining session. I remember because of the Lord’s response to me. How kind of Him to listen to my complaints that I had not even turned into prayers. He asked me one simple question. I find that He has a way of doing that– of asking a question instead of giving an answer. And somehow the question, coming from Him, releases the freedom I so desire and so need to move forward.
(You’d think an answer is what we need, but somehow the answer with all its multifaceted beauty is tucked into the folds of the question. I think God enjoys my process of discovery! Proverbs 25:2 says that “It is God’s privilege to conceal things and the king’s privilege to discover them.”)

So in the midst of my complaining He asked me this:
“What would you rather be doing?”

As I am typing this I find my eyes stinging with tears once again at His kindness to me in that one question. For hidden within that simple question were great depths of His love, both for me and for my children.

A Work of Powerful Love
Adoption is a beautiful thing. Not the kind of beauty that is soft and gentle, butterflies and bunnies. Its beauty is rugged and powerful and sometimes even frightening in it’s scope. What a glorious thing to be a part of! What a privilege to co-labor with the God of the Universe as He pours out His love on these children. Indeed, what would I rather be doing?! To be an intimate player in a work of eternal significance is too lofty a thing. And yet, God has called me and many of you reading right now to partner with Him in the miraculous transformation of an orphan into a true son or daughter. That He would condescend to allow me to partner with Him, that He would call my name to join Him in His eternal purposes and will– I am overwhelmed at such an invitation.

A Work of Rebuilding and Restoring Love
Adoption is a beautiful thing. It is the work of rebuilding and raising up, of repair and restoration. It is the very work that Jesus gave His life to make available to us. Again, what else would I rather be doing? To have the awesome and deeply humbling opportunity to participate in putting an end to what are often generations of destructive living, resulting in great pain and disfunction, and to then be a part of the restoration work made available through God’s love found in Jesus. For many of our children (certainly not all adopted and foster children fit in this description, but most it seems) 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, survival and pain. 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 with excited anticipation– 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 and it is powerful and oh so good!!

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 with Dwellings. (Isaiah 58:11-12)

A Work of Intense Love
Adoption is a beautiful thing. What other occupation would I prefer? Yes it is a work that is difficult and sometimes overwhelming. And I am thankful for the trend in the adoption community to share some of the harsher realities of adoption. Indeed, it is necessary that we not “sugar coat” the more intense nature of this beautiful occupation. But I also see that in the authentic sharing we can sometimes lose sight of what it is we are actually doing.

Gotcha Day for the Templetons
For it is a beautiful thing to be a part of. And I don’t mean just those amazing moments when you your child comes home for the first time and there is great celebration and joy, or when your child calls you mommy or daddy for the first time, or when she seeks you out for comfort rather than retreating into herself, or when he pats your cheek and tells you he loves you more than anyone in the world, or even when she thanks you for adopting her. I also mean those tough and sometime cutting moments when she says she wishes she never was adopted, or that you aren’t his “real” mother, or when she goes into a violent rage causing the whole family to retreat from the pain of it all, or when he shuts you out, unable to accept your love. All of these scenarios are beautiful I believe. Beautiful because it is for these situations, both the ‘good’ and the ‘bad’ that God brought our children into our homes.

Dear friends, if you are in a difficult season with your child think of this– was it not for this very situation you are dealing with that God Himself brought your daughter or son into your family? Did He not look ahead into time when He saw the plight of your child and say to Himself, “where can I find a safe place for this precious child to live so that I can go about my work of restoration and rebuilding? It will be a costly work, and it will be years in the doing. Who can I trust with the messiness of such a work? Where is a safe place where I can pour out my healing love and where this sometimes trying work can be accomplished?” He looked to His people and saw you and me. He saw His servants who know how, when sun-scorched and weak, to enjoy the “spring that never fails.”

A Work of Enduring Love
Adoption is a beautiful thing. For in it we participate in God’s enduring love. The scriptures are full of this phrase, “His love endures forever.” There is a story being told in the kingdom; it is the story of this enduring love. And you and I have been invited to enter in to the story. We have been given the shocking honor to participate in the kind of love that is solid, immovable and patient. Not our love– for those adjectives don’t describe the quality of my love! No, this is the story of God’s love that I get to enjoy and share.
To endure is to hold out against, to sustain with out yielding, to last, to bear with patience. It is lasting and it is permanent. What else would I rather being doing with my life than to join into the telling of this love story?! What price is too great for the opportunity day after day to participate and co-labor with enduring love?!

So, when I get started in one of my complaining sessions it is best for me to step back and ask myself the question that sets me free from whatever disappointment and discouragement is in the now–
For indeed, What else would I rather be doing?

Oh Lord God, nothing else. Thank you for allowing me to walk alongside my child and to be a well-watered garden, a source of life. Teach me how to receive the sustenance You are for me when I feel sun-scorched and weary. What an honor it is, Father, to be allowed a role in this amazing story of restoration. And thank you that you are busy doing a work of enduring love in me as well. So, Father, I invite you to keep telling your story of enduring love in my home, in my life, in my family, in my heart. For it is true Lord, adoption is a beautiful thing.

____________________________

Beth has been married to her husband, Stephen, for 25 years. They have seven children, ages 16 to 22. Several years after giving birth to three girls, God called their family into 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. Stephen and Beth serve as leaders in their local church. Beth leads a ministry called Hope at Home, 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 the Hope at Home blog.

April 10, 2013April 9, 2013

trust in the take-off

that moment on the runway. that moment when the plane begins to pick up speed and the passengers begin to hold on tight. when the flight attendants buckle in and the engine cranks up. when the cabin lights dim and the babies grow quiet. that moment when hearts flutter and stomachs drop. that moment.

you can’t tell me you don’t feel it too. we all do. even the seasoned flyers feel a little bit of something as the plane moves from the solid comfort of ground to the mystery of unknown air.

i don’t know about you, but i pray.

my guess is that you probably pray a bit too. even people not prone to praying, probably pray–at least a little.

in the past month i’ve flown with emily to texas for college visits, i’ve flown alone to georgia for a women’s retreat and i just flew with the five kids to birmingham for a week at the beach. (no beaches in birmingham. we flew in, visited another college and then drove 5 hours to florida). that’s six airplane trips. if you count the two extra connecting flights, i’ve experienced that “take-off” moment 8 times this past month.

and i’ve prayed each time.

granted, this past trip to the beach i had bella sitting next to me singing the little einstein’s theme song. “we’re going on a trip in our favorite rocket ship…” but still, i prayed. she sang. i prayed.

and friday night when we were taking off one more time and i was praying one more time, i thought about how good it is for us to have those “take-off” moments every once in awhile. it is good to be at that point where we are a little unsure, a little out of control, a little on the edge of our seats. it might not be fun, but it is good to teeter a bit between the solid and the mystery.

there’s a humility which comes when we cannot control.

there’s a hush which occurs when we have to be still.

there’s a holding-on which happens when we feel the shake and rattle and thrust.

and it’s good for us.

my mother does not fly. end of story. well, sort of end of story. she doesn’t like the take-off moment. she doesn’t like a loss of control. i can’t say that i blame her. in fact, i’m pretty sure there’s no person who would stand up and claim that as a favorite feeling. it’s probably a universal most unpopular moment. but still…it is a necessary inconvenience when we want to go places, get somewhere. i’ve pushed my mom on the subject a few times. my siblings and i all live spread across the country. flying would be an easier, quicker way to travel we tell her. it makes sense to me, so i’ve badgered her about it. we even got her on a flight several years ago. my dad would tell you, it wasn’t worth it. it might have been quicker, but it certainly wasn’t easier. not for him and definitely not for the stranger sitting on the other side of my mother.

but this take-off moment doesn’t just happen on airplanes, does it? we have them in life. times when we are leaving behind something solid and heading out into something unknown. we don’t know how it is going to work. we don’t know how it is going to happen. flight seems improbable. impossible. inconceivable. a part of us wants to put on the breaks and turn right around. i get it. i have felt that way a lot in life — especially in these past few years.

you see, i might fly on airplanes, but really, i am a lot like my mother. i, too, don’t like the loss of control. i want to be in charge of my own vessel. i want to hold the wheel. i want to have my foot on the break. i want to set my course and navigate my skies. i want to be in charge — of everything. call it evidence of my birth order. call it my teacher training mentality. call it my type A personality. call it whatever you want, but i’ll call it what it is: my sinful nature. i want control. i like to be in charge. remember eve in the garden? yep, her too. she didn’t want the apple. she wasn’t hungry for food, she was hungry for control. i get eve. i have no doubt if that slimy serpent had been whispering words of pride into my willing ear, i would have eaten them up too.

this need for control might make me a good executor of details, a good party planner or trip coordinator, but it doesn’t make me a good follower of Jesus. it is the thing i have to work on — a lot. in fact, i am certain it is why He set us into the middle of an arduous adoption journey. it is why He took us through a medical crisis. it is why He moved us 1000 miles away from home. it is probably why He gave me 5 children. these things have created take-off moments for me — for my family. they have kept us not only on the edge of our seats, they have kept us on our knees.

and that’s the place i need to be. on my knees.

not just when the airplane lifts off, but each day. every day. always. unfortunately for some of us, we need to be a little unsure and a little unsteady in order to be a little more aware of our desperate need for Him. what happens when the airplane dips? what happens when it shutters and shakes? what happens when the captain announces an emergency landing? the prayers pick up. the “our Father who art in heavens” become loud and clear and compelling. i am astounded at how quickly i can move into an attitude of self-reliance when things are going smoothly. time after time, God whispers in my ear, “get ready, jody…here we go.” and i have to hold on.

and maybe this loss of control is a hard thing at first, but i have to admit, when i’m up in the sky and looking at the plane having to land on a narrow runway below, i am really, really glad someone else is in charge. because the truth is, i couldn’t do it. i couldn’t safely land the couple hundred passengers and i couldn’t safely land myself. i’d fearfully end up wandering around in a cloud somewhere until i ran out of gas.

we always run out of gas when we try to take control.

i’m not sure what has you on the edge of your seat right now. most of us have something. but i want you to know this place of teetering can bring you to the point of trusting. let it. true flight takes place when we move from the edge of our seats to the center of His will.

oh friend, don’t be afraid to fall.

on our knees.

and into his arms.

He has you. He has me. He has us.

________________________________________

jody: daughter of the King. wife to a saint. mother of five. lover of orphans. survivor of cancer. doer of laundry. pursuer of beauty. . . you can follow her story at even the sparrow . . .

April 8, 2013April 8, 2013

God doesn’t see borders

Commonly asked questions that seem to be popping up more and more are these:

Why international adoption when there are many children here in the U.S. who need to be taken care of?

What makes it so special to adopt kids outside of the U.S. when we have kids that need adopting here?

Why are so many people so concerned about kids from other countries and not our own? Shouldn’t we be focusing on our own problems?

I would like to take a stab at responding/answering this question as an adoptive parent. An international Adoptive parent at that. Sometimes these questions can come across offensive as an adoptive parent and a defense tends to rise up in us. My intention and my voice behind this response is not that of a defensive tone nor does it come from an offended heart. It comes with Love and understanding of questions such as these. Questions that need not be ignored or over looked. They are very valid and important questions.

First I don’t think that adopting a child from another country makes it more “special”. It makes it hard, more time consuming, expensive, and risky, but I wouldn’t say “special”. Adoption in and of it’s self is a blessing and is very special. Regardless of geography.

I love what my husband recently said in response to one of these questions:

The reason families adopt beyond the U.S. borders can be for a number of reasons. One of the primary reasons is need. In the U.S. at any given time there are roughly 500,000 children displaced from their home and within the foster care system. Of this 500,000 only roughly 80,000 – 100,000 are actually “adoptable”. There are roughly 2 million families in the U.S. today looking to adopt a child within the U.S. This means that many families are on a waiting list. This also means that if you are a healthy and young child in the U.S. (and not part of a large sibling group) you will be adopted without delay.

In Ethiopia, where our daughter Emerson is from, there are approximately 5 Million orphans. According to the U.S Intercountry Adoption webpage, only 1732 were adopted into the U.S in 2011. This hardly makes a dent in the need. The statistics world wide for orphan care are overwhelming high.

I would certainly say that there’s not anything more or less special about adoptions within or outside of the U.S. They are both important and necessary in order to “care for the orphans” that God commands us to care for. (See James 1:27 in the Bible) God did not command us to just care for the orphans where we live specifically but all orphans in need.

God does not see borders; He only sees children. With this command, He calls some to care for the orphans here in the U.S. and calls others to care for the orphans in countries such as Ethiopia, Uganda, China, Ukraine, Liberia, Brazil, Haiti etc.

However, if you look closely there is a difference in the needs of children (orphans) outside of the U.S. vs. the ones within the borders of the U.S. In the third world you will find orphans dying everyday by the thousands from lack of basics needs that are met here in the U.S. by the government and/or foster programs.

Examples:

Shelter
An Abundance of food
Access to free Medical Care
Clean Water
Education

And so on…
Children in the third world do not get these things.

I was recently reading a string of comments on a local news page on Facebook concerning International vs. Domestic adoption. I felt sad and drained after reading through some of the things people say about families who adopt internationally. I came to the result that most people don’t really know what they are talking about. People just need to be informed and educated and made aware. People need to understand the different needs and where exactly the needs are and how to meet those needs. And it’s up to us adoptive parents to love and educate those that just don’t know.

There are thousands of resources out there concerning adoptions both international and domestic. If you have questions on either I want to encourage you to look into it your self and find answers or helpful articles to understand each process.

Ultimately we all need to be praying about what our roll looks like in the relieving the world wide orphan and poverty crisis. Instead of pointing fingers and saying mean things to each other we need to love, encourage and help one another out. I was once asked “Why are you spending thousands to adopt from Ethiopia when there are orphans in your city’s foster care program? Why not take care of your own first. “My response was simply “How many foster children do you have? How many children have you adopted?” For us, we felt called by God to adopt from Ethiopia. God calls some there, God calls some here and God calls some to both. God’s ways are great.

God doesn’t see borders,; He sees children. And he is faithful in setting the lonely in homes. He cares for the orphans, He sees them in their distress and he deploys families from all races, economical positions and countries to care for them and to meet their needs. How is God calling you to play a roll in His story of redemption?

________________________________________

I am Jenna, and I blog over at Day of Knight, a place where you will find little tidbits of our story through parenting, missions, adoption and just our normal ole life. I have been married to my best friend Phillip for 7 and half years. Together, we raise our pretty awesome and completely adorable children Parker (7), Beckham (4) and Emerson (4). I am a wanna-be vegan with a side of crispy bacon. I part-time homeschool my 7 year old, and it is really hard. I am crazy about Africa and mission work. The saying “I need Africa more then Africa needs me” is completely true in my book. I am passionate about adoption and orphan care, and I also have a love for all things fair-trade. Together, the 5 of us strive to live this life to the fullest and chase wildly after God’s own heart.

April 5, 2013March 28, 2013

Adoption Perspective…Fears and Transitions

I wanted to share about one thing I learned in helping our kids transition into our care… and how fear plays a part in those transitions. And as part of my theme for this blog is “perspective” I want to share how I experienced a huge perspective change in the reality and nature of fear.

I wrote about all the ways I tried to help our big boy transition into our care… and really I think we did a knock out job of helping him feel safe, secure and that we love him and he could trust us. In some ways, his transition was far more easy for me to understand and feel compassion for than it was for me to understand with Thea. I think I saw the physical fear in his face and eyes when I met him. He really did wonderful and had very little problems adjusting to us and our new role in his life.

That brings me to where fear took hold of me. We were always really uncertain if adding 2 new kids was a “good idea”… it was a subject of months of weighing and wrestling with… there were so many up sides for our kids (the new ones), a few downsides, and we knew a bigger and heavier commitment and responsibility on our shoulders and parents. Then there was always the thought, “What if we get a child that needs more than we are able (or feel capable) of giving them?” It was not an easy choice. But at some point early last summer we realized that there was a series of events that had lead us to both of our kids, and we had tried to find other alternatives (particularly for our daughter) but all fell through nearly immediately. We were certain she was meant to be our daughter.

But, then again, after meeting our sweet girl in September I had a bunch of doubts all over again if we could be the kind of parents and family that *she* needed. It was as if all those fears and uncertainty returned to me with a vengeance. It was almost like drowning in fear! For one, I had gone home with a sweet little boy who really made our life easy… we enjoyed, for those 3+ weeks, a family-life that was almost simple. And I liked it. We knew that we’d most likely return for Thea in January… when we were ready and able to give her the time and attention we thought she would need… but then almost immediately we had another court date for her! I was immobilized in this fear that “I didn’t have what it took” to be a mom of 5 or to be her mom!

I was also worried about getting on the plane to go back because I thought that we’d lose our court date again, for legitimate reasons due to circumstances that were taking place in country at that time. I was so worried and not wanting to go back that Tim had to make a deal with me like you would an 8 year old going to camp, his “deal” was if after one week things had not worked out I could come home, and he had already booked that ticket so I knew he was telling the truth. I feared the unknown, all the hard things I had to do on my own and I felt completely unable to skillfully take care of the possible problems that I could potentially come up while I was there! Then there was Thea and all of the hard things we had dealt with when I had cared for her the first time.

Now I feel really silly about it all… silly, that I should have known God would work it all out and that this was never up to us, but on His timing and in His will!… but all I could feel was that overwhelming dread and fear!

But… the fear was real, even if the circumstances were just possibilities.

Walking through that fog of fear I some how found my way back to her and “just did the next thing” for about 5 days. After those days I realized that instead of a screaming terrified baby, I had a really sweet, and happy baby that wanted me… as her mom. All of the logistics and issues in court worked themselves out… perfectly. Amazingly. I was humbled.

For three days after that I felt like I had been hit by a truck… it might have been jet lag, a baby that was up a few times at night or something else, but I really just had to lay around and rest because I felt so depleted! I even worried that maybe I had gotten a “bug” or was beginning to get malaria… but I didn’t. I was just wiped out… I now think it was from all the stress and fear that I had surrounding me that week or two prior.

Fear is such a weird thing.

It is an emotion, but it has physical, mental and even the ability to change how you view people and circumstances. I physically felt different during that week, my stomach in constant knots, feeling hyper, unable to sleep and unable to relax and even slightly suspicious and paranoid.

I have never ever felt those things before in my life… or at least to that degree and in that overwhelming of a way! There were times I had to say, “Marci, this just doesn’t make sense what you are feeling! You need to think other thoughts…” and I would pray.

And you know, eventually, I realized that must be exactly how sweet Thea felt for sometime (if not much longer). When I realized that that is what she was going through I immediately felt so so broken at my inability to have understanding for her! I feel so glad I had that horrible week of fear just to understand how she must have felt too!

I understood her restlessness at night, her fits of screaming, her drowsiness all day long and her desire just to “shut off” and zone out. She was afraid! She was dreading the unknown, she felt suspicious and untrusting of me and others, she felt wiped out and even potentially sick feeling. And when we moved rooms it was highly scary and alarming to her because she didn’t know what that would mean for her!

Again, I am so so thankful that I went through that horrible week… it wasn’t the week that was really horrible, but my fear in the unknown of what that week might hold.

In one of the books that we read on adoption that seemed to have the most “sense” and logic to it, the author talks about how it is one of the most important tasks for parents of adopted kids to help them have “felt safety”, it isn’t that it is truly unsafe around them, but that they perceive more fear in situations, more insecurity and that our job is to help them understand and feel safe in our care!

That is what God did for me. While I was in the airport, half way there, I sort of had a breakdown… I just didn’t want to get on that last plane to UG… I wanted to run home! I was internally wrestling with God saying, “God, I want to go home! I know (because that was what fear was telling me) I will get to UG and be told the judge will not show up, I’ll wait for weeks all alone and I am not even sure we should be bringing Thea home… I am so afraid… I can’t do this on my own! Why does your Word not tell me what I should do?” I felt this voice say, “David… David was afraid… look to his words.”

I opened Psalm 1

“1 Blessed is the one
who does not walk in step with the wicked
or stand in the way that sinners take
or sit in the company of mockers,
2 but whose delight is in the law of the LORD,
and who meditates on his law day and night.
3 That person is like a tree planted by streams of water,
which yields its fruit in season
and whose leaf does not wither—
whatever they do prospers. judgment,
4 Not so the wicked!
They are like chaff
that the wind blows away.
5 Therefore the wicked will not stand in the
nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous.
6 For the LORD watches over the way of the righteous,
but the way of the wicked leads to destruction.”
Every word was like cool water to me, it calmed me, gave me perspective and peace. Every day of my 26 day trip I read the next Psalm in order… every day it addressed the need or fear I had for that day! It was “felt safety” for me. It reminded me I have a Father who cares, provides, is trust-worthy and in control… and I need not fear.

The last verse I read on concluding my 26 day second trip was Psalm 26:12,
“My feet stand on level ground; in the great congregation I will praise the LORD.”

That is what our God does for us. He helps us overcome fears and to stand on the level ground of Him… so that we can give Him glory! That is also what we are to do for our kids.

How can we be that kind of parent for our kids?
Do we brush off their fears as silly or do we help address their fears as something real, but help them see the situation through that new perspective?

______________________________

Marci Miller and her husband Tim live and work at a camp for socially and economically disadvantaged youth, many of whom are foster or former foster children. This is their 8th summer at CBX and their 11th summer in camp ministry.They currently have 5 children, ages 7, 6, 5, 4 and 2 years old. The 6 and 2 year olds came home through the miracle of adoption late in 2011. Marci blogs about their adventures in parenting, ministry, homeschooling and adoption at She Can Laugh…

April 3, 2013April 3, 2013

FAQ: Managing Insecurities and Offense

I received a lot of emails and phone calls over my “Mom” post a few weeks ago. I was a little surprised to hear that so many people were surprised that I was okay with Ty calling Rebekah, Mom. One reader wrote an extremely honest email and admitted that she would be crushed if her adopted son called his birth mom, Mom. She was writing for pointers on how to be more secure in that relationship.

We were at church, last week, and someone was admiring the boys and said, “Now, Ty is your real son, right?” I smiled and launched into our story on how both of our boys came to be. I love telling it.

I know that many adoptive parents equate adoption ignorance to cruel and intentional insults…I just don’t see it that way. I take ignorance for what it is and understand that it is usually bred by curiosity.

Overall, I would say our adoption community is hyper-sensitive when it comes to talking about adoption. Parents spend more time than is necessary trying to prove their place and position…while the child never questions it.

Before Ty was born, God gave me a revelation that has never left my mind. It was like a bright light turned on the day I realized Tyrus belongs to him. Not Rebekah. Not me.

God privileged us with the opportunity to mother him, but possession belongs to God alone. That really helped me in the early days of getting to know Rebekah. It removed the pressure of having to define our roles in ways that seemed unnatural.

Love is not finite. There is no limit to the amount you can give – or get. We always approached Ty’s adoption with this attitude because we knew he could never get his “fill” of love. Rebekah’s presence in Ty’s life doesn’t diminish mine. The same goes for her sister and mother and grandmother. Those relationships don’t take away from the ones he has on our side of the family…they just add to it.

I look at Ty calling Rebekah, “Mom”, the same way. He wants to call her mom because he understands the breadth of what she did for him. He understands her love and affection and wants to return it in a way that makes sense to him. It’s kind of like me calling Ben’s mom, mom. She’s not the mother that stressed and sacrificed and poured into me for the 20 years I had before marrying Ben, but she has enriched my life in countless ways over the last 11. I call her mom because I want to show her respect, love, and admiration. My mom doesn’t feel jealous, insecure, or out of place because of my acknowledgement of Ben’s mom. She knows her place. She will always be my mom.

I know that not everyone has that type of relationship with their mother-in-law, but I hope it helps explain why Ty’s recent choice of words doesn’t bother me.

Ultimately, it comes down to my security in the Lord. I know who I am in Christ, so it’s pretty easy to let insecurities roll down my back. When people use the word “real” when referring to my boys or their moms, it doesn’t offend me because I know who they are to me and who I am to them. Most of the people we run into have no adoption experience. They just ask the first thing that pops into their head. I don’t feel the need to make it a teaching opportunity because most of them will never run into adoption, again. Instead, I use their curiosity as a platform to tell our story and praise God for his goodness!

In just a few short days, Ty will have the opportunity to be with both of his moms and the rest of his extended Colorado family. What a wonderful reunion it will be. I can’t wait to get home and tell you all about it!

_________________________________

Next to my faith walk, I am a wife and mother first. My husband and I have been married ten years and have two incredibly, tender sons, Tyrus and LJ. Our boys are essentially twins, yet neither boy was born from my belly. We adopted sweet Ty (domestically) in 2009 and have a wide-open relationship with his birth family. LJ was also born in the summer of 2009, but came to our family, this year, as a ward of the state (via foster care). Our hearts and abilities have been stretched to capacity, but God is moving, filling, and redefining family for all of us. Follow along on our journey.

March 20, 2013March 19, 2013

The Hard.

Adoption is a picture of redemption. True.

And adoption puts children into forever families. True.

And for us, as the adoptive parents, I think the picture of the journey to our children is often filled with waiting, pursuit, longing, waiting, paperwork, waiting lists, more paperwork and more waiting.

All True.

And there comes a point when, after all that anguish, we are able to put the journey behind us and declare it all worth it in the end. True.

But there is more to the story. There is so much more to the process and to the journey than our “yes”.

There is hard, too.

Because while we were journeying and paperchasing and waiting and waiting and waiting,

Our children were walking through rejection, abandonment, shame, loss, hurt, longing, relinquishment, lonliness, abuse, trauma, neglect, malnourishment, sadness and grief.

Yes. Adoption is restoration, and it is redemptive, and it can bring beauty to brokenness.

But. BUT. It is also hurt. and loss. and more loss…..

It can be too easy, in my experience, to see the finish line and declare ourselves victorious without considering the hidden things. the broken things. the layers upon layers of hurt that we must carefully help our children peel back to bring true and complete healing.

We must be willing to walk through the hard, too, as parents. We must be willing to acknowledge that those early hurts deeply affected our children. And we must be ready to grieve with them. To talk about the hard things. To be honest and trustworthy with our childrens stories. To love them through the anger–which will undoubtedly be directed at us– and to sit and wait as our children examine deeper and deeper inside their protected little hearts for the things they most want to be rid of….

We must understand that that finish line we celebrated. Was the starting line. We had simply arrived at the race.

And intentionally. purposefully. honestly. We must walk through the hard stuff with our children. We must cover shame with His grace and love. We must acknowledge unfairness and grieve hurts and losses and unanswered questions. We must be fully present. constant. never failing in our love and consistency.

Gently.

Never forgetting that for us to be their forever family…

they have to have lost their first family.

“Adoptive parents and families are not always aware of how being relinquished has deeply impacted their adopted child. They are just so thankful to have that child in their life. But, all the while adoptive parents are rejoicing and celebrating, their adopted child is grieving the missing parts of his or her life before living with their family. Their adopted child has lost a part of his or her history, his or her DNA, his or her life –- and no one is available to talk about it.”

-Carissa Woodwyk

______________________________

Ashley Smith is a passionate and enthusiastic Blogger, Mother, Christian and Adoption Advocate. She often writes to release true stories and emotions about International Adoption, Faith and The Everyday Life over at In My Own Words and prays that her words would bring hope and life to readers. She is the analytical left-brained wife of a creative worship-leading right-brained (and yet still amazing) man and Mom to a 5 year old superhero-loving boy, Marvel, who joined their family in the summer of 2012 from Ethiopia!

March 15, 2013March 15, 2013

Stuck

Sometimes Lily talks about wanting to go back to her “old place,” as she calls her orphanage – her home for 4 years. She was loved there. She was a sick little baby who against the odds grew to be a sick little girl, sick but spunky. Her referral described her as “stubborn and coquettish” and it was all too true. We’ve been learning a lot from this little firecracker.

It was one of those moments when discipline seems unfair and being the littlest and having to follow rules is simply no fun anymore… “I want go back my old place.” she said, chin quivering a little bit.

Wrapping her arms tightly around Lily, my mom told her about how sad we all would be if Lily left. She was in our family now, she was our special. Lily squinted her eyes, pursed up her lips and blushed the way only she can when she feels loved and wanted. “I stuck,” she said.

Since that day, the word “stuck” has earned itself a new meaning in our family. “I stuck with you,” Lily says as she snuggles close – knowing that she’s safe and wanted and that the love of a mama and daddy won’t ever run out. “I stuck” she’ll sullenly announce when the little responsibilities of being in a family get tiresome. “We all stuck…” she’ll figure, naming each of her big brothers and sisters – all of us part of a big stuck-together-family.

She was sitting on her bed, ready to turn off the lights and go to sleep when she started remembering. “You meet my friend?” she asked. “At my old place?” Oh, yes, we did meet her old roommates when we visited her orphanage at the time of her adoption. There were three bunk beds, so six girls to a room. She had been the littlest, and three of the girls still in her room had been her friends. They remembered her, even though it had been over a year since she had slept on her bottom bunk. They called her name and she introduce her family. Her family.

“On my friends,” she continued, “she not stuck. I think… probably… she want be stuck.”

“Can we pray for her?”

This was the first time that we heard Lily express and acknowledge the fact that the friends from her “old place” are still orphans, waiting for a mommy and daddy of their own. They’re waiting to be stuck.

“Claire stuck. Levi stuck. Joshua stuck. Yanyin stuck.” Lily goes down the list of her friends. “Ohh… (she remembers other close friends who have yet to be matched with families)… they stuck? We pray for them.”

Let’s join Lily in hoping and praying that one day, every child knows what it is to be wanted, chosen and stuck.

________________________

When Hannah traveled to China in 2002 with her parents to adopt her sister Elisabeth, she fell in love with the country and people. In 2004, when her other sister Naomi was adopted, she started dreaming of going back. It took 5 years for that dream to come true. She now serves in a foster home for special needs orphans in China. Hannah spends her days studying, writing for the foster home and on her personal blog, Loving Dangerously, and most importantly, holding babies. Hannah loves the adventure of living overseas with her family. It’s not always easy, but it’s always worth it.

March 13, 2013March 12, 2013

memories

i try to remember and can’t. i try really, really hard. but when i go back in my mind, it’s not there. i then i remember it didn’t happen that way. all it takes is a clip of a commercial…the one with the mothers holding their new born babies, and my mind goes racing back to the day when i gave birth to Sophia. but i didn’t. and it’s one of the the strangest feelings i’ve ever had. the first time it happened, i kind of freaked out. i was watching some movie on tv, and there she was, a new mommy holding that precious little baby, and in my mind i thought, “oh, how sweet…i remember how i felt when i…” and then i froze. no, i don’t remember that, but oh how it feels like i should! we’ve been home with sophia for over a year now and God has sealed us together so tightly as a family, that i forget we went to China! i feel as if i gave birth to her…i feel as if it should’ve have happened! the first time i had that realization, i cried. i guess i was grieveing what didn’t happen, but i was also just plain feeling sorry for myself because one day i would so love to tell sophia about the day i gave birth to her. and on top f that, i never want her to feel as if she is different than any other little boy or girl whose mommy and daddy love them and brought them home a few days after entering the world. so, i did what i always do…i turned to Him. and He did what He always does… He gently reminded me of His perfect plan. His plan of how He brought our family together that day in China… the way He wanted to. He reminded me that i need to trust in Him when the time comes to explain those things to her, and that giving birth is miraculous. whether it’s natural or supernatural, like ours was. after the initital shock of trying to conjure up a memeory that was not there, i realized how blessed i was to feel that way. she IS my daughter, and yes, I am her real mommy. nothing will ever change that. our circumstances are different, but boy are they incredible! today we celebrate her birthday. and even though i may not remember the day she was born, there is someone who does. a nameless woman, halfway around the world, who, today, i’m sure, is remembering the day she walked into a hospital in Nanjing three years ago and gave birth to the sweetest little girl on earth. her memories, i’m sure, are filled with pain. i can’t even imagine what she may be feeling. i pray for her today. i pray that God somehow will let her know that the child she gave birth to is with a family (and i mean a great big family!) that loves her beyond the moon and back. i wish i could thank her. thank her for loving her enough to risk going into a hospital to give birth. to thank her for choosing a better life for her. to thank her for following God’s plan…even if she didn’t know what she was doing. one day i may be able to do that. only God knows…but for right now, i pray that today will bring peace to her. we have such a beautiful story of love to share with our daughter one day. and although our memories with her start at 21 months old, i think we are doin a pretty good job of making some wonderful memories with her. today is her day. and we will celebrate the joy of who she is in our lives. a daughter we can’t imagine never not having. and it really doesn’t matter how God did it. i’m just so glad He DID!

__________________________

Margy and her husband, Darren, traveled to China in November 2011 to bring their daughter home. Sophia Li was 21 months old at the time and has been helping Margy burn lots of calories ever since. The three live in southeastern NC and enjoy ice cream, visiting Disney World whenever possible, and being a forever family that God brought together by His perfect design. You can follow their story on her blog, Hughes House.

March 6, 2013March 5, 2013

The Masterpiece

He has me wrapped around his little chubby finger.

Those eyes.

Those cheeks.

That smile.

I love to just stare at him and take in all the details of this amazing little creation. He is a masterpiece.

I was thinking the other day (as I often do) about his birth family. It thrills me that he is ours, but it makes me sad sometimes to think about what his birth family is missing out on. He is such a treasure, and it’s hard to believe that the people who made him don’t get to enjoy him each day.

But as I tried to comprehend the complexity of adoption, God gave me a small glimpse of what adoption really looks like. It’s not always about neglect, abandonment, or betrayal. Many times, it is really about LOVE.

Imagine a struggling artist. He works and toils to create beautiful imagery that captures the eye and touches the soul. In his small, dimly-lit apartment he covers a canvas with shades, colors and images that reflect the very core of his being. A piece of who he is is transferred into this work of art.

When it is completed, he is filled with awe at the beauty of his own creation. Yet he knows that his humble home is no place for a masterpiece such as this. There is a part of him that wishes to keep the painting for himself and be able to look at it as often as he wants. But he knows deep down that his painting is worthy of a grander display than what he can offer.

He calls museum curators and art critics to come and view his masterpiece. They are all struck with the raw emotion that is evident in the brushstrokes and lines of his painting. Many of them offer him a great price, but finally, he settles on one particular gentleman who seems to really grasp the meaning behind the work of art. It doesn’t even seem possible to put a price on the artist’s labor of love, but they finally agree on an amount and the gentleman covers the canvas and, smiling, walks away.

The artist watches the gentleman until he can’t see him anymore. Then he turns, heart heavy, and begins to clean up some remaining paints and rags that were left over from his work. He knows he has done the right thing. If he would have kept the painting, the conditions of his apartment would have taken their toll on its quality. Few would have been able to see and enjoy the beauty of his masterpiece. But where the painting was headed, it would be cared for, displayed and enjoyed the way that a true work of art should be.

He loved his creation enough to give it away.

Josiah is a masterpiece. He is someone’s creation. His features, personality, stature- everything about him is a reflection of the ones who made him. He was loved enough by those who made him that they wanted something better for him. They knew he was worthy of greater care than what they could provide. So selflessly, they chose to share their work of art with us. And what a humbling thought to be given such an incredible treasure.

I thank God every day that Josiah’s birth family chose to give him life. I am thankful that we are the ones that God chose to care for that life. I am thankful for the beautiful gift that is adoption.

And I am thankful that, because of the Master Artist, we are all a reflection of the love of our Creator.

________________________________________

Heather Fallis is a wife, mother, preschool director, youth pastor, writer, musician and coffee addict. She and her husband have two biological daughters and recently adopted a son from South Korea. Heather has documented their miraculous adoption journey in hopes of inspiring and encouraging others who have dreams of adopting. You can read more at www.ourheart-n-seoul.com.

March 4, 2013March 1, 2013

…but we’re afraid

The words in my inbox were words I had read before.

we’ve been prayerfully considering adoption…but we are both still wrestling with a lot of fear and uncertainty….I know God will provide, but I really don’t know how to move beyond this place of fear.

The same words have been parts of other messages from other women. The same words had been written on my own heart years ago.

I remember when our family story began. Mark and I met at Young Life camp right before my senior year of college. Only 3 months later, after only phone calls and emails (which was nearly brand new), we started talking serious, and I knew where we were headed. After one of those late night phone calls with Mark, I called my mom, and I cried. I was scared out of my mind. I knew he was amazing and that God was leading and I was following — all good things. But, I was so uncomfortable and scared of the unknown and the commitment I was likely to be saying yes to soon. Fear and uncertainty filled me. My mom said something seemingly not all that brilliant; yet, 15 years later, here I am with her words still playing over in my head. They were words that quieted me and helped me move past my own self in spite of myself.

Kelly, I’d be worried if you weren’t scared.

Here’s the thing. Adoption is a big deal. And, wrestling with fear and uncertainty is right where you should be. It’s all part of the adoption journey. If we take that lightly and not wrestle with it, well, that’s when I’d be concerned.

It’s really not about having the best parenting skills or being able to stay at home or knowing all about attachment or all that we can wrongly claim as making as fully able and therefore ready. It’s about discerning if God has called you to it and if He has, if that timing is now. Even after we discerned that ourselves, I still battled fear, fear that literally took me prostrate to the ground at times. Some days while we waited, I wondered if we were making a mistake. I wondered if I forced something and if we were headed down the wrong path, if I’d be able to cut it, if I could really love a child who wasn’t “my own,” if I was motivated by the wrong reasons. But, God wouldn’t let us not do it. So, we pressed on. It wasn’t the easiest road–the wait, looking over files of very real children, traveling across the world, coming home with a toddler who was now our own, the grafting process. But, I know that right here is where God wants me to be, even when I’m overwhelmed by my inadequacy and wondering what He’s doing.

No one is “perfect” for this journey. But, He is and the journey itself is when He has called you to it.

________________________________________

Forever changed by our experience of being adopted and adopting, Kelly is a stay-at-home mom/manager to 4 children and a professional juggler, juggling her calling as wife and mother with her secondary callings (editing and serving adoptive families through The Sparrow Fund). You can learn more about their adoption story, how they’ve been changed, and what life for them looks like on their personal blog.