Adoption and Faith Archives - Page 6 of 44

May 27, 2015

My Gardening Life.

I am not a gardener, but if I were my garden would look something like this.

Pretty, right? Everything in its place, ordered, organized, contained and thriving. Beautiful and fruitful. Yep, that is it right there.

And that is a pretty good picture of what I was going for with our family. Each child organized, contained within the life-giving boundaries we set up, and thriving, etc. Sounds good doesn’t it?

But as our family grew through adoption my neat rows of seasonally appropriate lettuce and tomatoes, and those lovely flowers intentionally planted to catch just the right amount of sun, changed into a whole other garden.

Our family metamorphosed overnight into a crazy out of control mess of a garden. A beautiful, willy-nilly kind of place, full of surprising varieties and diversity.

It has been a great adventure to discover and appreciate all that our adopted children have introduced into our lives. They brought with them so much that is lovely, fascinating, strong, creative and exciting from their birth families, country, and culture that have made our garden gloriously unique. Like an heirloom tomato imported from a far away place, I haven’t always immediately recognized the special qualities introduced to our family through adoption. But as the years have gone by, 15 now since our first two treasures came home, I have identified so much that I might have at first mistaken as a weed.

I have learned to not to try to pull up something because I didn’t plant it, but rather clear a space for it in my heart and in the culture of our family. Let it grow and enjoy its fruit and beauty, and make it my own.

And where weeds have come in (to join the ones already there!)–the unwanted and unwelcome residue of rejection, abandonment, trauma and orphanage life–then I have learned to carefully remove them. Not all at once with a hoe of shame, but gently dig them out with the trowel of prayer and love and identity. Some of these weeds continue to sprout up over the years, the lies that threaten to choke out sonship, so I continue to maintain this special plot of land God has given us.

And I have learned that some plants just need some time to grow before they can set themselves apart from the look-alike weeds. So I garden with care and nurture, waiting for the season of flowering and fruit.

And I have learned to be at peace with the process of being a care-taker of such a crazy garden. As tempting as it was to take our new transplants and try to force them into my perfect rows, it proved to be destructive to us all whenever I tried it!

So instead I focus on enjoying the beauty and surprise of it all, and the honor of being a part of such a family.

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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 Hope at Home.

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We’re building the nest this month!

Head right on over HERE to find out more and learn about the 40+ businesses that support adoption and the work of The Sparrow Fund!

May 21, 2015May 27, 2015

My Gardening Life

I am not a gardener, but if I were my garden would look something like this.

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May 18, 2015May 18, 2015

Post-Mother’s Day Blues

I’ve got the post-Mother’s Day blues.

Seems like my family can’t win. On one hand, there is part of my heart that wanted more from them– more appreciation for how tough this job really is and a deeper understanding of how much I really love them. On the other hand, despite the wonderful cards and texts from them, somehow I feel terribly undeserving. If only they knew the depths of my dark heart – the unkind thoughts and resentments that lurk there sometimes. If needed, I would crawl over cut glass for them, with a triumphant smile on my face for all the world to see – to proclaim my abiding sacrificial love for them. But inside, I confess, there are days that I grumble, or feel discouraged, or ashamed of my failures.

What grade would you give yourself as a Mom? Some days I’m feeling pretty good – maybe a B or B+. Some moments maybe even an A! J On a bad day, much much worse. Some days it might depend on who I’m comparing myself to. And I wonder – do we get to grade ourselves on a curve? How do you grade a mom when her children have brains altered by past trauma, when their behavior often makes no sense, when they fight the very love that she is offering?

I confess that, early on, I really did think that, if I was a good enough mom, my efforts would translate into amazing results with my kids. My husband and I had thought we would be the perfect adoptive parents. We thought we could provide the ideal environment for our children to heal from past hurts. We weren’t prepared for how hard the fight would be. Over the years, each child has both clamored for and resisted our love, and it can be exhausting. Behavior has been infinitely more challenging than we had anticipated, and I often have felt completely inadequate to the task. And much to my dismay, I am a very different mother than I thought I would be – too often impatient or distracted or angry or just tired. What a rollercoaster. There have been wonderful times of joy and victory – fun family outings, meaningful conversations, signs of great growth. But at other times I’ve fought deep discouragement.

The good news is that God is the One responsible for the results. The God who loves our kids even more than we do WILL accomplish His purposes for them. What a privilege that He invites us into that work. He chose us for them, and them for us. All four of my kids are “launched” now, and I truly marvel at all He has done in their lives. And as I look back I realize that indeed He sometimes accomplished great things in them through us! But at many other times, he has done so in spite of us. He didn’t need us to get it right. What a comfort.

Certainly He calls us to diligence and obedience. We all work hard to be the best Moms we can be. We read books, and blogs, and consult friends and sometimes professionals. We are intentional. And we should seek excellence in all we do. But at the end of the day, it seems the most important lesson I’ve learned, is that they just need our constancy, and to know that we ARE their moms. And that we are FOR them, no matter what, forever. The rest is details.

So, our part becomes simply to be faithful and leave the results to God. I am an awesome mom, and YOU are an awesome mom, simply because we provide our kids the opportunities to learn and grow and be loved. Some of our kids can’t take it all in right away. It doesn’t happen in our timing. But we need to trust that God has made them to receive that love and guidance; and eventually it will bear fruit. And even on the days when they are fighting it, we are awesome because we are faithful. That is all that is needed.

A constant, faithful, imperfect Mom is exactly what your child needs – an eye-rolling, “Are you serious!?” impatient, too-busy, bought-Kentucky-Fried-Chicken-for-the-church-potluck-cause-I-ran-out- of-time-to-make-homemade, kind of mom that says “You can never lose my love.” That is what we are called to. That is what they need.

And they’ll get it…someday. I can’t tell you when. But they’ll get it.

Happy Faithful Mother’s Day!

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord…As the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and does not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish,… so is my word that goes out from my mouth. It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it. – Isaiah 55:8-11

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Cheryl Nitz, ACSW, LCSW has worked in the field of adoption and foster care for over 30 years. She has extensive training in the field of attachment and trauma, particularly in the area of facilitating healing in foster, adopted and post-institutionalized children. She currently is the director and a therapist at the Attachment and Bonding Center of PA. But she often says her best education has come from being a parent with her husband to their four kids (two of whom came to the family through adoption) and grandparent to four!

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We’re building the nest this month!

Head right on over HERE to find out more and learn about the 40+ businesses that support adoption and the work of The Sparrow Fund!

May 13, 2015May 14, 2015

To Understand Forever

*This post was written two years ago, when celebrating three years of having my little sisters HOME. This month we celebrate 5 years, and while we don’t have our ‘forever’ figured out yet, the journey is proving to be so sweet and so worth it*

Today we celebrate three years of baby sisters. I remember that day so clearly, the day we welcomed a 5-year-old and a 2-year-old back into our home and began our journey of forever.

We painted a room pink, bought new soft blankets, and filled a closet with more dresses than any two girls would possibly need.

That day was joyous, so we celebrate it, and rightfully so.

This journey isn’t without pain though. I was reminded last night of the harsh dichotomy that exists within the world of adoption. In order to have the privilege of loving these girls, they had to go through a lot of loss first. In order for me to love them and know them, others who loved them first had to lose them.

Last night, I peered into the little girls room and found a sweet 8-year-old sitting on her bed, looking at pictures of her first mom and her siblings, and crying. Tears in her eyes, and staring at the same pictures over and over again, she expressed in words how she was feeling.

I sat with her and kissed her head of blond hair over and over again. I rubbed her back and I chose my words carefully; I said that missing is okay. I wish I could have promised her that she would see her first mom again, that one day she would feel all better; I wish I could have whispered that she had no reason to cry, as many have told her before. But sister has every reason to cry. She should cry. It’s heartbreaking, but it’s good. I hate that for her. I hate this part of adoption. I hate watching an 8-year-old grieve over such hard things. The reality of that injustice makes me angry.

We get to celebrate her heritage and accept the reality of her past, however messy it may be. We speak with respect and honor towards her first mom, because that lady loves her. We even celebrate that the grief, which was once manifested through compromising behavior, is now morphing into the expression of words. That is huge. (and all the adoptive families said AMEN!)

When it comes down to it, none of us really know how to accurately depict the tragedy and beauty of adoption that has been so confusingly woven together. Sometimes it’s hard to figure out which part is the beauty and which is the tragedy. What do we celebrate and what do we grieve over? It takes a lot of work and time and tears. And sometimes we realize it’s the very thing we’re celebrating, like 3 years of permanence, that actually has so much grief wrapped up in it, too.

We know that we get to celebrate the notion of forever, because God’s plan is for every child to have a family. We don’t really, fully understand what ‘forever’ means, but we use that term anyway. We know that it represents something exciting and that there is permanence in the word, but even still, it is too big for our finite minds to grasp. What I have promised my little sisters is that we’re going to do our best to figure it out together, not through words, but through actions.

Right now, forever means afternoon Wii games, spontaneous trips to sonic, watching first-year ballet classes through the doorway, and blaring One Direction in the car.

Tomorrow it might mean something completely different.

So today we don’t have it figured out, nor to we necessarily intend to figure it out in this life time, but we celebrate 3 years of stability. We celebrate 3 years of baby doll playing, kindergarten graduations, learning how to read, and nighttime prayers. We celebrate 3 years of properly celebrated birthdays, summer afternoons spent by the pool, bike rides, and countless afternoons of painting nails. Today we get to celebrate new relationships, the beginning stages of trust, and the remembrance that through all of the chaos and tears, we are family.

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Kylee recently graduated with a bachelor’s degree in social work and is currently working at a child-placing agency while going back to school to pursue a masters in social work. Her parents jumped into the crazy world of foster care just days before her 8th birthday and cared for numerous infants and toddlers over a ten-year time span; four of those kids later became permanent family members through adoption. Kylee is passionate about learning how to better love her siblings from “hard places” and loves sharing about this journey and passion on her personal blog Learning to Abandon and on her Instagram @kyleemarissa.

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We’re building the nest this month!

Head right on over HERE to find out more and learn about the 40+ businesses that support adoption and the work of The Sparrow Fund!

May 8, 2015May 12, 2015

Gratitude

Yesterday afternoon, Silas fell asleep on my chest for the first time in a long time. I laid there soaking it in, feeling his heart beat on top of mine. This kid’s heart beats so in sync with mine that sometimes I forget he grew in another mama’s belly. I never forget her. I just sometimes forget that Silas hasn’t always been a part of me. He hasn’t always been mine.

I began imagining what it would have been like to have had him growing in me. I don’t feel any lack in our relationship because we missed out on that time together, but there’s a part of me that does grieve for that time. Not because we lack a connection, but because I know he has a connection to another mom too.

I started to wonder…if I could have grown him in my own womb and given birth to him myself, would I have?

Well, sure, if he could still be the same Silas that he is now. But, the reality is, he would be a different kid if he had been born to me. And, I don’t want a different kid.

So, my grief is drowned in the depths of my gratitude.

Gratitude for his birthmom, who carried and cared so well for my baby for 9 months and then selflessly gave him the life she wanted him to have…one that did not include her. My privilege is her pain. And her connection to Silas does not diminish mine. In fact, I think it strengthens it, because I carry with me every day the knowledge that he could belong to someone else. And yet, he’s mine.

And my gratitude for a God who breathed a deep desire for adoption into my heart long ago, before infertility was something I even knew could be a reality. For a God who gently guided us through our pain down the road that led to Silas. For a God who redeems and restores and who causes all things to work together for good.

I feel this overwhelming gratitude daily, and I often ask Silas in these moments, “How did I get you?” and “Why do I get to be your mama?”

I live every day in awe that he is mine.

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Mindy and her husband, Nick, adopted their son, Silas, domestically in August of 2013 after seven years of marriage and two years of unexplained infertility. They live in Southern California, where Nick is a pastor and elder at ROCKHARBOR church and Mindy is a part-time teacher. She also hosts an infertility and adoption group each month, where she gets to do life with women who share her deepest pain and her greatest passion. She blogs at Finding Sunday.

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We’re building the nest this month!

Head right on over HERE to find out more and learn about the 40+ businesses that support adoption and the work of The Sparrow Fund!

May 6, 2015

Thoughts on Home

Last Fall I was able to accompany my parents on a two-week trip to China to adopt my new little sister. It has been a hard journey, and it didn’t end when we got off the plane in Omaha, Nebraska. But it has been wonderful, and I am grateful that I was able to come on the China trip.
It was exciting, fun, and I learned a lot. But I was homesick before the end of the first week.
Adoption is a beautiful picture of God’s love and our own salvation story. Our story especially represents this, as we left our home and traveled to where our child was to bring her home.
I have been wondering this year if Jesus thought about Home as much as I did. I have been thinking about the culture-shock, and wondering if His experience was close to mine.
Now, obviously I am not trying to say that China is inferior to the U.S. like earth is inferior to heaven. But going there did take me out of my ‘zone’, and I think I better understand the way God adopted us now—kind of.

“He sat in the garden alone, grieved beneath the weight I feel right now times the Universe.” –Shannon Martin

I cannot really imagine what Jesus did for us. I have been wondering this year if Jesus thought about Home as much as I did. And writing this has brought me to the conclusion—he probably thought about it more. And being around children who have never experienced this kind of love before and don’t know how to except it, has only made me realize what love is. What it means to love unconditionally.
Adoption is a perfect representation of our spiritual adoption—but that does not make adoptive parents and siblings heroes. If there is one definite thing I have learned during this journey, it is how incompetent I am. How lost. How broken. . .
Without my Savior.

“In love he predestined us to be adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ.”
-Ephesians 1:4b-5a

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My name is Hanna Rothfuss. I am 14 and in eighth grade. I have lived in the suburbs of Omaha, Nebraska for my whole life. My interests are reading and writing, mainly about fantasy and orphan care–often adoption. I have four siblings, two of which are adopted. I’m a homeschooler and a child of God. I pray that all my writing is encouraging, empowering, and brings glory to Him.

You can read more of Hanna’s writing on her blog: Taking My Time.

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We’re building the nest this month!

Head right on over HERE to find out more and learn about the 40+ businesses that support adoption and the work of The Sparrow Fund!

May 4, 2015May 4, 2015

Walking on Water

Waters crashed beneath his feet, but in that moment of trust, Peter didn’t even notice. His eyes were bravely fixed on the one who calms our fears and carries our burdens. Suddenly, distractions over came him, and his eyes were drawn away from Jesus, down to the waves. Fear enveloped him, and he was sinking.

Have you ever felt like Peter? Boldly stepping out in faith, only to momentarily lose sight of Him and scream out, “Wait! What was I thinking? Lord, save me!” as you realize you are standing on water with no boat or support. The hand of Jesus reaches out to catch you, as He says, “‘You of little faith, why did you doubt?’” (Matthew 14:31b, NIV)

How quickly we sometimes step out in faith but just as easily forget about Him.

Adoption is an amazing journey of faith and trust. There are moments that are easy because you clearly see the hand of God, but at the same time, there are decisions to be made that are incredibly difficult or scary. And then are moments in the journey when fear, disappointment, or doubt can creep in and pull your focus away from the Lord. You begin to sink, only to realize you must cry out to Him for help.

Choosing to follow God’s call to adoption was easy in theory. We said, “Yes, Lord! Adoption will be our plan A.” Our hearts leaped with excitement at the thought. We pushed forward, but as the country paperwork phase began, mounds of documents started collecting on my desk, and I began to feel as it I would never get finished. I can honestly say that now, on our third adoption, it doesn’t get any easier.

With each new adoption we step out into uncharted waters, initially excited at what God has in store, but inevitably, at some point, I let the crashing waves distract me and pull focus momentarily away from the One who asked us to water on water in the first place. Questions and impatience creep in trying to pull my focus from Jesus. How do we pick a child? Is this my child? What if God asks you do something CRAZY that you never thought you would do like adopt an 8 year old boy?!

The good news is that even when we let things pull our focus in the wrong direction, God is there ready to grab hold of us and pull us out of the water. Even though we doubt at times and our faith may waiver, He will forgive us and help us to bravely push on. Hopefully, we gain a little more faith before the next wave hits us. With each adoption, while I have been distracted at times, I can look back and remember how His timing is always perfect and His plan far exceeds my finite imagination.

So when God asks us to travel into uncharted waters for Him, step out bravely in faith knowing and remembering all that He has done for us and how everything we do should bring glory to His name. He is faithful. He will not forsake you and will be there to carry you.

“’For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways,’
‘As the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.’”
declares the Lord.
(Isaiah 55:8-9, NIV)

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After struggling with infertility for 5 years, God led Suzanne and her husband Adam to His Plan A for their lives—adoption! Their 5 year old daughter came into their lives in 2011 from the Fujian Province of China. Their 10 year old son joined the family in January of 2013 from Shanghai, and they are traveling to China this May to bring home their newest daughter from the Hunan Province. Suzanne works as a Pilates instructor and teacher trainer while homeschooling 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.

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We’re building the nest this month!

Head right on over HERE to find out more and learn about the 40+ businesses that support adoption and the work of The Sparrow Fund!

April 27, 2015April 28, 2015

From an Adoptive Mom to God {Letters}

Dear God,

I’m thinking you laugh. That you smile. That you are so creative, all knowing, and sovereign that we messy, tremble prone humans must make you giggle. I’m hoping so anyway.

You are love in its purest form. The ultimate Father. So I don’t imagine your laugh to be mocking or your smile to be mean.

I imagine you smiling at me the way I grin at my growing, desperate to be independent kids. The way I chuckle as I stand beside them through their anxious, untrained attempts at bike riding, diving board jumping, and chapter book reading. I beam knowing they’ll get it. Their doubts are raging and knees shaking. But I know what they don’t, so I can’t help but smile. I grin knowing the joy that is ahead if they will just trust my leading.

It’s that kind of joy that I imagine you having over me. For me. With me.

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Did you laugh when adolescent me attended to the seed of adoption you planted in my heart and started dreaming of an Asian baby? I bet you pictured almond-eyed Claire, Eli and Evelyn around my future dinner table and smiled big.

Did you laugh when love struck, totally naive, college student Mark and I sat across from each other at Applebees on our first date and I mentioned adoption? You knew how deeply and beautifully it would complicate our uncomplicated lives, so I imagine you had a good laugh at wide eyed us.

Did you belly laugh when newlywed us mapped out our life plan? When we decided on one bio birth and one adoption? We thought ourselves so wise and so adventurous. We loved our slightly risky plan. We couldn’t see then how you’d teach us to release our grip, open our hands and accept the grand adventure you had planned. How you’d wring out our control issues like a wet cloth, soaking it full again with your grace, mercy and a better vision for our lives.

Did you chuckle when we filled out that first adoption application and checked “non-special needs”? You knew. You knew that in fact all of our children would have “special needs” that would press into our parenting limits. And that each adopted child would have greater needs requiring a special love much bigger than their cleft palates, cleft lip and urological needs. That emotions and behaviors and loss and living in a broken world would require parenting beyond our capabilities.

Did you grin when, at the end of ourselves in the five year wait to bring home our long dreamed of daughter, we finally realized that the whole pursuit was more about journeying to you than journeying to our baby? That though you dearly loved our daughter, that more than anything you wanted hearts tethered to you? That though the timing seemed so off to our weary selves, that it was just the right time? Your timing ensured that OUR girl, our Claire Liu Wusha, was placed in our (more faith filled) arms in a stark conference room in Chengdu, China, two decades after the seed of adoption was placed in her momma’s teenage heart.

Did you smile when we filled out our special needs checklist for our second adoption and marked yes to all the most minor and easily correctable special needs? You pictured us holding Evelyn, didn’t you? And I bet you beamed knowing that we faced chronic challenges, regular infections, multiple surgeries and a lifetime of care. I think you beamed not because you were right, but because you knew how she’d bless our socks off. That despite having to stand waiting outside operating rooms, that she’d bring us life. How we wouldn’t trade medical supplies, specialist appointments and hospital stays for the easier days before her soul was woven into ours.

Did you giggle when we filed a petition for the adoption of Evelyn, knowing that a trip to adopt one more child, would end up being a trip to adopt TWO more children? If any of our bends in the road made you smile, I bet it was that surprise late night phone call with a match “in case we also wanted a boy”. How you must have giggled later when the unexpected gift of a son came around the corner of the orphanage office door. You knew how Elijah LanChang would smile and giggle. How he’d bring lightness, laughter and joy to the hardest year of our lives.

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I like to hope that our lives, all these years of growing and stretching, of both tiptoeing and leaping outside our comfort zone have brought you joy. I know that givers love to give, and that you’ve given us much. You bestowed adoption on us like a miraculous offering that was ours for the taking. And because we said yes, it’s blessed and bent us in ways we never could have dreamed of. I think you must smile when we step out of our plans and into yours.

I know our story has your glory written all into it. Not because of our strength, but yours. Not because of our abilities, but yours. Not because of our plans, but yours. I can look back on it now and smile along with you. Now, I can count it all joy. All the waiting, all the doubts, all the surprises, all the hurt, all the life deconstruction, all the heart widening, and the faith deepening.

You dropped a seed into my heart and then stood back and watched tender roots shoot forth, bloom and multiply. And I bet there is more to come. That’s gotta make you smile.

With much gratitude and a smile,

Rebecca

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Rebecca Radicchi is a homeschooling, tea sipping, mother of four. Already moved well outside her comfort zone by motherhood, missions, orphan care and adoption, the Lord keeps taking new ground in her heart. Only able to offer a “yes” when the Lord calls, God’s been blessing, refining and stretching her. With the hope that others might be encouraged, her humble response is to share the stories. You can find her recording the wonder, struggles and graces of everyday family life at La Dolce Vita and as a contributor at No Hands But Ours and Ungrind Webzine.

April 22, 2015April 22, 2015

From Mommy to Daughter {Letters}

Olivia, one year ago we walked into a crowded Civil Affairs building. We were full of nerves and anticipation.

How would you react? What would you look like in person? What would your personality be like? Were you small or big for your age? Could you walk? Were you loud like your brother and sister or a calm addition to our family? Would you bond? Would we bond? What was your favorite food, favorite toy? How did you like to be soothed? Did you like to sleep? In what position? Would you know how much you were loved?

We never could have imagined the love we felt the instant we saw you. It reminded me so much of the day your brother and sister were born. I locked eyes with you, touched your hands and consoled you by gently rocking while stroking your head. The terror you felt is nothing we could have prepared ourselves for. I am so so sorry you had to go through the pain you went through. No person should ever have to experience what you experienced. You are brave my daughter.

It has now been a year. I can now answer all of the questions we had that January afternoon. I love watching you each day and seeing more and more of your personality unfold. I am certain that God created you for our family. I am just sorry that you had to go through what you did so God could get us to you. Your first mommy, your tummy mommy made a very brave decision so that I could be your forever mommy. I am so grateful for her. In my eyes she is a hero.

Your forever family day will always be a favorite day of the year for me. I don’t ever want to forget what you went though a year ago but, I don’t want to dwell on it. Because, that baby is not you. It has been a miracle this year watching YOU unfold. You are mighty, you are spicy, you are loud, you are loving, you are silly, you are stubborn and you are a miracle.

So to celebrate you we decided to indulge in your favorite “cocholate” (Chocolate) with a trip to the local French Bakery. We let you pick out any item you want and eat until your heart was content. I loved our day together just as I do all of our days together. You lighten our world baby girl. You are so very loved.

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Caitlin has been married to her high school love for 10 years. God placed adoption on her heart at a young age. Caitlin and Brad have two biological children and they brought their youngest home from the Guangdong Province of Chine in 2013. Caitlin works part time as a pediatric occupational therapist. She views this career path as God’s design toward orphan care in her life. She is excited to serve with The Sparrow Fund on their mission trip later this year. Caitlin blogs, but not nearly as often as she would like at Fortunate Blessings

April 20, 2015April 20, 2015

What I Learned from My Daughter’s Tantrums

I’d never seen a more independent four-year-old. When K came home, she could literally do everything for herself. She dressed and bathed herself, brushed her teeth, got herself a snack. For a while, we were relieved and grateful. These are the things we’ve taught our boys to do for themselves because we want them to be independent and confident. She fit right in. But then it hit us.

She was independent because that’s how she’d survived.

Based on attachment parenting research, we started to re-parent her. We started saying things like, “I know you can brush your teeth, but I would love to take care of you. May I brush your teeth for you tonight?” A little at a time, she started to let her guard down and let go of some control. Later it became, “Can I help with your PJ’s tonight?” to which she would respond, “Because you want to take care of me?” She was getting it.

Now, we are in the trenches of dependence. At this point, we’ve created some dependence on us so she can develop out of it into healthy independence. If we say, “Go brush your teeth,” she often says, “I can’t!” It’s not a particularly fun stage, as we value independence. But we know it’s going to be worth it in the long run.

There’s something we’ve noticed about her since she’s started depending on us: she’s at rest. When we are patient and meet her needs, she is happy and peaceful. Her guard is down. She accepts help consistently now, which means losing the thing she held onto more than anything- control. And she’s happier than ever. It seems counter-intuitive for someone who holds onto it so tightly, but there’s comfort when she lets go of control.

Like many things in life, children show us the way. K has taught me so much already, and this is no different. She had no control over her environment before she was with us, so now she holds onto any sliver of control with white knuckles. I often feel powerless in my circumstances, so I scramble to control something, anything. How much of my life have I complicated by fighting God for control? More than I’d like to admit. Our baby girl literally goes from kicking and screaming to peaceful and calm when she surrenders and lets us meet her needs. And much like a four-year-old, I fight and fight until I finally surrender. Then I rest in the comfort of having God meet my needs. I always wish I’d done it sooner.

She is getting more and more comfortable with releasing control, and she’s starting to realize it feels good to be taken care of. I’m thirty years older than she is, and I just wish I had learned as quickly as she has.

Where do you fight to release control? What would happen if you surrendered?

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Matt and Becca write about marriage, parenting, and life through the lens of a married couple, parenting team, and pastor and professional counselor. They share hope and restoration by giving a glimpse into their lives- the failures, the successes, and the brokenness and beauty of everyday. You can read more of their writing at WhitsonLife.

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Category: Adoption and Faith

My Gardening Life.

We’re building the nest this month!

Head right on over HERE to find out more and learn about the 40+ businesses that support adoption and the work of The Sparrow Fund!

My Gardening Life

Post-Mother’s Day Blues

We’re building the nest this month!

Head right on over HERE to find out more and learn about the 40+ businesses that support adoption and the work of The Sparrow Fund!

To Understand Forever

We’re building the nest this month!

Head right on over HERE to find out more and learn about the 40+ businesses that support adoption and the work of The Sparrow Fund!

Gratitude

We’re building the nest this month!

Head right on over HERE to find out more and learn about the 40+ businesses that support adoption and the work of The Sparrow Fund!

Thoughts on Home

We’re building the nest this month!

Head right on over HERE to find out more and learn about the 40+ businesses that support adoption and the work of The Sparrow Fund!

Walking on Water

We’re building the nest this month!

Head right on over HERE to find out more and learn about the 40+ businesses that support adoption and the work of The Sparrow Fund!

From an Adoptive Mom to God {Letters}

From Mommy to Daughter {Letters}

What I Learned from My Daughter’s Tantrums