Today, Rose is working on a scrapbook, carefully placing her pictures from China. Her tears are turning to smiles.

We’ve been seeing more grief from Rose the past few days. It’s hard. And the hardest part is knowing there is no way I can fix it–and as a parent I want nothing more than to protect my child from her pain and sadness.

And yet, perhaps, one of the bigger mistakes we make as adoptive parents is trying to “fix” our adopted child’s grief–to deny it, to cover it up, to take our child’s mind off it, to minimize it, to distance them from it.

Instead, we need to allow our child to experience it, and to find a way to live with it. That is easier said than done.

Last year, an adoptive parent sent me an e-mail asking when her son would quit feeling grief. She felt sad and personally responsible. She said that she was giving him a life full of love, laughter, happiness, good food, an amazing education, and even Disney vacations. And yet, there were times he still cried for the orphanage he had left behind. She couldn’t understand how he would miss an orphanage that was dirty, overcrowded, lacking food and toys.

To answer her question, I think we need to imagine ourselves in a similar situation. Pretend we suddenly became movie stars and were whisked off to a beautiful castle in another world, complete with a personal trainer and chef! We had maids, butlers, a race car, entertainment, horses, doting fans, and even big screen TVs in the bathroom (with continual reruns of Oprah and Grey’s Anatomy)! We were even given a new, perfect family.

How would we feel? Would we become homesick? Would we miss our loved ones?

Some parents might argue that their child didn’t leave loved ones behind, didn’t have a family, didn’t have anyone who loved them–and in addition, their child experienced abuse and neglect. I would gently suggest that even in families (and orphanages) where children have experienced abuse, they still have love for their parents (or caretakers). Children who are taken into protective custody in the US still cry for their abusive parents at night, because along with the bad memories there are good ones.

And even in a “bad” orphanage, there was almost certainly someone that our child felt connected to. It may have not even been an adult, it may have been another child.

Our kids miss their previous caregivers, friends, familiar surroundings, language, foods, and culture. And they always will.

It isn’t our job to help them forget, but to allow them to remember and to support them through those memories. To help them heal from the bad ones and hold on to the good. To validate their feelings, yet keep them moving forward into their new lives, filled with an abundance of life and love.

Not to replace what they left behind but to build on it.

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Ann Henderson currently finds herself wife to one and mom of nine, including a son now playing non-stop baseball in heaven. Several of her children are adopted

This is the flower by my front door.

Pathetic I know.

But it is an interesting flower nonetheless.
Stick with me here….I’m going somewhere with this…
I promise.
This is not a horticulture lesson by any stretch.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

We have lived in this house for nearly two years.
I haven’t ever planted
nor watered
a thing.

And what amazes me is that each spring this one flower,
among the death and ruin of the remaining flowers of yesteryear
continues to bloom.
It blooms despite it’s circumstances.
Never watered.
Never fertilized.
Never paid any attention to sans a stray nerf bullet that sometimes sails it direction.
Nuthin.

That flower,
I love.
That flower that I walk by everyday when I enter our home

r
e
m
i
n
d
s

me
so much of
them.

Nobody loved.
Nobody cared.
Some were just downright mean and awful.

Yet.
They.
Bloom.

Today I was playing with Jacob and tickling him and that contagious laugh of his was bursting out of him.
I did what I have done a hundred times before with our other kids.
I started gently tapping his mouth as he was laughing which
as all mothers know
makes their voice sound really funny and typically makes them laugh even more.

But today
in that moment
his past
once again
caught up with him.
And he
shut.
down.

That scared traumatized look came right back into his eyes.
The hollowness.
The emptiness.
I had apparently found yet another trigger.
That look that, in the beginning days and weeks of being home, would last for hours
came back.

But this time
it left rather quickly.
“Please don’t do that mama. XXXX in China hit mouth hard. He really mean.”

Oh sweet boy.

I hugged him, he smiled, and we went right back to playing legos.

And he heals a little bit more.
And he blooms a little bit more.
And I get really angry inside and want to get on a plane and have a little what’s what with that man.
And I pray.

And not only is he blooming,
but he is choosing.
Choosing to love.

Captive no more.
Orphan no more.
But free.

The Spirit of the LORD is upon me, for he has anointed me to bring Good News to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim that captives will be released, that the blind will see, that the oppressed will be set free.
Luke 4:18

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Sonia and her husband John are an Air Force family with 6 boys ages 14, 13, 8, 8, 7, & 7. Soon, that will be 7 boys–they just received preapproval to bring home another little man who they are naming Joshua John–JJ. She stays at home part time and spends the other part of her time shopping at Stuff-Mart buying large quantities of food to feed said boys. Sonia’s hobbies include cooking, cooking, cooking more, cleaning, cooking, and cleaning bathrooms. They are navigating their way through life attempting to glorify God in all that they do — follow the journey here.

I’ve been wondering when it would happen. I think it is starting now. I think I have seen the very tippy top of the iceberg of Therese’s grieving.

Last night my sweet Therese poured forth story after story about her life in Yako. These were not pleasant stories. These are the rip your heart out, no child should have witnessed, or seen stories like this. Three hours worth of stories, and I got the impression there are so many more.

Therese told me that she is tired of feeling sad all the time (you would never know she feels sad at all from how she behaves). She knows that here, in America, we “talk talk talk and cry” when we are sad, but not in Yako. She said she wants to cry, but she “doesn’t can’t” (I love that phrase of hers!).

I reassured her that she will cry when she is ready. I told her that God gave us a way to get the sad out of our hearts, namely crying, and retelling our story. I told her that God will do amazingly wonderful things with those sad stories of hers.

Therese told me it is better to adopt a baby, because babies do not have so many sad stories as a girl who is ten. I told her that I wanted a 10-year-old girl, and I am here to listen to her stories. I find her stories, even the sad ones, to be precious. I treasure her stories, and I will help her remember the ones she wants to remember and to use the difficult ones for good. I want my 10-year-old girl, hard stories included, because she would not be Therese without those hard stories.

More importantly, I know a Savior who specializes in hard stories, and He redeems them all if you let Him. Therese knows Him too, and many of her stories include God saving her from harm or revealing something to her that helped her save some one else.

I admit I woke up this morning feeling a little sick and incredibly daunted by the task of raising this sweet girl with too many hard stories. Lord, can I do this? His answer to me was a gentle, “No, you can’t, but I CAN. Come to me and I will pour out wisdom straight from my heart.”

Okay, Lord, we will do this together. You lead. I will follow.

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Erika has been married to Casey for 11 crazy beautiful years. Erika is mom to two 10 year olds and two 6 year olds who aren’t twins! Therese (10), newly adopted from Burkina Faso, is awaiting heart surgery. Evelea (10) willingly gave up her position as oldest child so we could add Therese to our family. Sitota (6) was adopted from Ethiopia and brings a lot of fun to the family. Carter (6) has had six heart surgeries and gave us the courage to adopt a child with a heart defect. They are astounded that as our family doubled in size, our love quadrupled. You can learn more about their family on their blog.

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