They Never Asked for a Reassignment

Noah.

Assignment: Construct an Ark, endure ridicule and mocking for 100+ years, live in a boat with animals, survive the flood {the first and last of its kind}.

Moses.

Assignment: Lead a people who will ultimately grumble/complain, worship idols, murder, sacrifice their children to the fire, become harlots, and despise your leadership.

David.

Assignment: Become king–but first, endure threats on your life, hide in caves, play instruments for a delusional man, witness the death of your best friend.

Jeremiah.

Assignment: As a prophet, speak the word of God to a people living in sin and rebelliousness, threats on your life, anguish and grief.

Elijah.

Assignment: A prophet who will make his home by a brook, trust in a bird to bring him food, live through a drought, call fire from heaven, raise the dead, flee a wicked woman, and witness a fire consume 50 men.

Ezekiel.

Assignment: A prophet and priest who will speak destruction, condemnation and judgement, witness death and the loss of your wife.

John the Baptist.

Assignment: Preacher of repentance. Roamed the desert, wore camels hair, ate honey and locust.

Paul.

Assignment: Preacher of the good news. Promised he would suffer many things for the sake of the gospel, shipwrecked, imprisoned, sick, destitute {among many other hardships}.

And what more shall I say? For time would tell of Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jepthah and Samuel and the prophets–who through faith conquered kingdoms, obtained promises, escaped the edge of the sword, were made strong out of weakness, became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight. Woman received back their dead by resurrection. Some were tortured, refusing to accept release, so they might rise again to a better life. Others suffered mocking and flogging, and even chains and imprisonment. They were stoned, they were sawn in two, they were killed with the sword. They went about in skins of sheep and goats, destitute, afflicted, mistreated. . . .

My Yoke Is Easy?

Before He furnishes the abundant supply, we must first be made conscious of our emptiness, before he gives strength, we must be made to feel our weakness. Slow, painfully slow, are we to learn this lesson; and slower still to own our nothingness and take the place of helplessness before the Mighty One.

I love the above quote by A.W. Pink. That really is where I have been lately.

We have been wonderfully blessed with the addition of our new daughter into our family. She is a beautiful, kind, gentle, affectionate girl who is aware of others’ feelings and is sensitive to them. She is generous, funny, adaptable, and helpful and has a strong desire to fit in and do well in her new life situation.

So, it doesn’t really make sense to me that this should be difficult.

For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to add to our family through the miracle of adoption. I know that this stirring is something placed there by the Lord. Although I am smitten by the sweet babies waiting for a mommy’s arms to hold them and often long for those arms to be mine, it is the older waiting child who has really grabbed my heart; the ones that watch babies and younger children go home to forever families, knowing that they have little chance of that happening for them.

Before bringing Kayden home, I did lots of reading and research. I followed other families’ journeys as they brought their teens home. In my heart and mind, I was prepared!

And, truthfully, I am surprised by how hard it is.

It’s hard because even with all my preparation, our reality does not really meet my expectations.

After meeting our daughter a year before bringing her home and receiving information about her from others who had met her, I had created an image of who I thought she was. Now that we have brought her home, I realize that although my expectations were not unrealistic, they did not do a good job of describing who our daughter is.

I expected that like other children I had read about, she might have difficulty giving and receiving affection. I had imagined us cautiously showing her affection, starting with a small kiss on the head at bedtime and then marveling several months down the road when she had progressed to a place where we could give her a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek and tell her how much we love her.

Instead, our daughter is very affectionate, sometimes indiscriminately so. She will hug most people she meets in a social setting, even if they are not people we know well. She seeks out physical affection throughout the day and often will compete with the younger children for mine or with me for Paul’s. She wants tight embraces with full mouth kisses several times throughout the day. If Paul or I should sit on the sofa, we are like a magnet. For me, who tends to be less physically affectionate, this has been hard. With three small children who require a lot of physical affection, Kayden’s neediness in this area, and my own deep rooted character traits, I find myself struggling to meet the demands. I am unsure of where the balance lies and if and where there is a line that should be drawn. I do not want our daughter to ever feel any rejection from us, but I also want this to be an area in her life where she recognizes what is appropriate and what is not. I am finding out that this is a lot more difficult when your child is 13 rather than 4.

I knew the language barrier would be hard. I knew that Kayden would not learn as quickly as Levi did. I also knew that it would not be as easy to communicate through body language as it was with a smaller child. I expected that this would be quite frustrating to Kayden.

What I didn’t expect is how frustrating this would be to me. I didn’t realize how much time it would require to stop and explain conversations to her in ways that she could understand. I didn’t anticipate feeling so impatient when a concept that I think should be understood after a certain amount of time is not. I didn’t think it would be necessary for me to remind myself so many times throughout the day to be patient, to be kind, and to take the time to teach the idea or words again. I didn’t realize how helpless I would feel, seeing certain behaviors that I would like to work on, knowing that we do not yet possess the language to do that in any kind of helpful or constructive way.

I knew that there would be learned orphanage behavior that we would not want introduced to our younger children. I imagined myself facing each one with the intense compassion that I felt toward my daughter in all of my imaginings of her. I pictured myself dealing with each one constructively with a strong desire to help her work her way out of learned behaviors that were in no way her fault for having developed.

What I didn’t expect was to find myself feeling angry when those negative behaviors directly impact our younger children. I didn’t anticipate myself taking up such a strong defense on behalf of the children that I have already had opportunity to attach and bond so strongly to. I didn’t think that I would have to remind myself not to allow these feelings to show on the outside, that each child was mine, equally loved and committed to, and that my responses always need to reflect that. I never imagined myself having to be reminded to view my daughter with the compassion that I so strongly felt.

I knew that adding to our family and especially through an out of birth order adoption would change the dynamics in our home; after all, we had already done this once. When we brought Levi home, I loved watching our little girls adapt to this new situation. I loved watching them welcome Levi as their brother. I loved seeing the different character traits this brought out in each of them as they built their relationship with him.

I didn’t expect that this new experience would be so unlike our first. Bringing Kayden home has now changed these newly formed relationships between the three younger children. This is hard to see. There is a new level of sibling rivalry that has been brought about as the little ones compete for Kayden’s attention. With Kayden having a need to fit in and to be accepted, being the newest addition, these dynamics provide a perfect opportunity to bring out more negative character traits as she plays into this situation. As a mother with a strong sense of protectiveness for her little ones, it again brings about situations where I have to remind myself to not respond instinctively but to be fair to each child, recognizing that there is a history of learned behaviors that contribute to the ones that I now must deal with.

I expected that Kayden would have institutional delays and that she would probably act much different than her “real” age. I thought it would be endearing; and, it was…for a while.

I wasn’t prepared for how that would look on an emotional level or in social settings. Even though cognitively I know that she is delayed, and that this is expected, I find myself often expecting more, thinking she should respond in situations as a 13-year-old would or at least close to that. I didn’t anticipate that the behaviors that we would be dealing with would be very much like the ones we are dealing with in the smaller children and just how frustrated this would make me “feel.”

I do not share any of this to bring discouragement to anyone in the process or who might be considering the adoption of an older child. I also hope that I do not reflect a complaining attitude or any regrets. I do not have any. Our daughter is an incredible blessing to our family who, in spite of all of the challenges, adds joy to our lives.

Parenting is hard work. Parenting a child who has faced rejection and hurts that most of us are unable to comprehend is even harder. Each of these children is in need of a love that is often beyond what we are able to give. They need a level of commitment that is unbreakable and parents who are willing to work through the unique challenges that their adoptions will bring.

I have received an incredible amount of help on this journey through Karen Purvis’ book The Connected Child: Bring Hope and Healing to Your Adoptive Family and especially through the accompanying Bible study. In the introduction to this study, we are reminded that it is our strongest human desire to belong and that our goal as parents should not only be to bring about right behavioral responses but to have our children involved in connected relationships. The goal of achieving desired behavior in our children and particularly in Kayden would not be so difficult. She really does have a strong desire to please us. A goal of achieving desired behavior while developing in her a strong sense of connectedness and belonging is a much more lofty goal. It is one that requires a much more concentrated effort.

As her parents, we must be willing and able to do that hard work. A lot of the time, I feel incredibly inadequate.

I was given a beautiful reminder the other day when a visiting pastor to our church spoke on Matthew 11:28-30. He first recounted to us how Jesus as a carpenter would have had the distinct job of fashioning farming implements, including yokes. He told us how each yoke would be fashioned to be a perfect fit for the oxen that it was designed for. If used properly, this yoke would then make the work easier and the oxen would more effectively accomplish the task that was required of it. If the oxen chose to fight against the yoke, regardless of it’s perfect design, it would cause chafing and discomfort.

What a beautiful picture of the perfect design of our own life experiences. If we will allow them to work in the way that they are intended, rather than struggling against them, the Lord can work more effectively in and through us to accomplish His purposes for our lives.

I needed this reminder last week as I struggled with guilt and condemnation at my own shortcomings. I needed to be reminded that the Lord is not surprised at any of the ugliness that remains deeply rooted in my own character; rather, He has fashioned this current situation to help bring forth the fruit or godly character that he desires to see there in its stead. How I pray that I will learn to fully cooperate with Him, allowing Him to change me into the wife, mother, and friend that He wants me to be.

Trying to do the Lord’s work in your own strength is the most confusing, exhausting, and tedious of all work. But when you are filled with the Holy Spirit, then the ministry of Jesus just flows out of you. –Corrie Ten Boom

________________________________________

Lori King

Lori and her husband, Paul live in Northern MN where they are raising 6 of

Just Waiting, Part 25…or Large Thorns, Large Blessings

Faith is believing in things not yet seen.

I have yet to see a photograph of a baby dressed in split pants, with a sign propped next to her boldly announcing the three Chinese characters that form her name. I have yet to share in the joy of referrals with others in our DTC group. I have yet to see a light at the end of our tunnel. Yet, I still believe.

I believe because I have faith.

Whether you are Christian or not, it takes Great Faith to believe that China continues to move along with its international adoption program, albeit at a snail’s pace. It takes Great Faith to cling to the thought of one day meeting a child who will become your daughter or son. It takes Great Faith to trust in God’s will and timing.

Faith.

“Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.” Hebrews 11:1

We, I, being human, often blur the lines between faith and personal rights.

China doesn’t owe me anything. God doesn’t owe me anything. In fact, if the truth were told, I owe everything to God and to the country of China for allowing me to parent the one beautiful, vivacious daughter who currently fills my life with laughter and our little corner of the world with mischief. (Most recently, she upended an entire bucket of water onto poor Posies head. Sigh.)

Yet, I’m struggling with anger right now as well as a tremendous sense of impatience. It shames me to admit that because I don’t have a right to these emotions. God does not owe me anything, not even parenthood, whether through birth or adoption. I am not entitled to adopt from China; I am privileged to apply. And, a child born halfway around the world does not deserve to experience abandonment just so that I can mother her.

Impatience.

It’s difficult for others outside of the adoption world to truly understand how it feels to wait during the adoption process. It’s similar to being two months pregnant, only that single moment in time lasts for years and years. You still haven’t quite reached “the safe period,” so you hesitate about sharing the news, since you don’t know what the future holds. It’s too early to set up the nursery, yet you need to plan for it, so you dream and wait. You aren’t visibly pregnant, yet your emotions often take you on a roller coaster ride, so you struggle to live life as you did before. Things get put on hold because you make statements like, “well, we won’t be able to do that because the baby might be here by then.” And, because it’s an adoption, instead of a pregnancy, your due date constantly pushes back further and further and further.

It’s difficult to wait.

This past weekend the Husband and I worked for hours in our garden: pruning, weeding, even widening one of our flower beds. I spent quite some time puttering with my roses. We have several rose bushes, but the ones most people notice are the two largest. The first sits in the front yard, along the walkway leading to our front door. It blooms with gorgeous, fragrant red roses. The bush in our backyard next to the herb garden blooms with smaller, pale peach and less fragrant roses. While I worked with these two plants, I remembered something my friend Lizard once called to my attention.

If you look closely, you’ll see there exist less obvious differences between our two rose bushes. And, if you grab hold of a stem from each plant, you will learn of their differences painfully.

Our red rose bush sports the most wicked thorns I’ve ever personally handled. Our peach rose bush? It hardly contains any thorns at all. I can cut this bush back without even bothering to wear gardening gloves. Lizard, a former florist, once told me that you can predict how large the blooms will be by looking at the thorns . . . the larger the thorns, the larger the roses.

The larger the thorns, the larger the roses.

The larger the bumps in the road, the larger the blessings.

I learned this lesson already with the Tongginator. I truly did. Now, perhaps my thorns, at least this time around, aren’t the actual adoption process and wait, as I initially believed. Perhaps, this time, the thorns are in my soul. Perhaps God is using this long wait (25 months today) to teach me the true meaning of faith: hope without entitlement and patience without anger.

Perhaps…

What are you waiting for? And, more importantly, what are you learning during your season of waiting?

________________________________________

Mother to the little Tongginator

Although Tonggu Momma wrote this post over 2 years ago, she continues to learn God-sized lessons during her season of waiting. She and her family now have been officially waiting to adopt from China for 4 years, 3 months, 5 days, and 6 hours. Not that she’s counting or anything. (And see??? She

I Don’t Love You Today, Maybe Tomorrow…

Adrian and Ping

Me: What did Daddy say?
Ping: Ping no throw books.
Me: Right, and what did Ping do?
Ping: Yes throw book.
Me: Did Ping listen to Daddy?
Ping: No.
Me: Is Daddy happy or sad that you did not listen.
Ping: Daddy no happy.
Me: So will Ping listen to Daddy?
Ping: Yes.
Me: Thank you. Daddy loves you, Ping.
Ping: I no love Daddy.
Me: That is okay. But, I still love you.
Ping: I no love Daddy.
Me: That is okay. But, Daddy still loves Ping.
Ping: I no say I love Daddy today.
Me: Maybe tomorrow?
Ping: Yes. Ping love Daddy tomorrow.
Me: That’s great. I still love you today though and tomorrow.
Ping: No today. Tomorrow, I love Daddy.
Me: Okay, good night, baby. I love you.

I would have to say that once the initial punched-in-the-gut feeling wore off, this made me so very happy! I was thrilled that my daughter said she “no love” me (more on that at the end of the post).

Ah, the joys of parenthood! It is not for the faint or the weak or those who get queasy at the sight of blood. That’s for sure. Having your child tell you they don’t love you is one thing, thinking they believe it is something else.

What is Your Fairytale?

This is my family!!!

I have been thinking a lot about the Radical: Taking Back Your Faith from the American Dream
by David Platt, our daily life right now, 147 Million Orphans, Amazima, and so much more. I think I paint a pretty real picture of our lives, and I have no idea how many people read my blog, but it has been requested that since I have a large audience (not sure if that is true), I have an obligation to tell the truth about adoption and make sure people understand what the journey really looks like. I will say this sorta of didn’t sit well with me since I think I do, and it is my blog, so I get to write what I want…

TRUTH #1

No two adoption journeys are alike. I have had easy, hard, and beyond difficult.

TRUTH #2

I have been wiping bottoms for the last 12 years (except for a 1-year break). Do I like wiping nasty, just-came-home, stomach-adjusting poop to start my day? NO WAY. But, I am the MOM. So, I do.

TRUTH #3

Your body adjusts to no sleep. Don’t forget to take care of yourself (I try my best to workout 5 days a week), but the bottom line is we are called to die to self everyday. So, waking in the middle of the night to a screaming tantrum child who is healing from trauma is what I do because I am the MOM.

TRUTH #4

I don’t like laying down with my kids at night. I have been with them all day–playing, laughing, feeding, healing booboos, kissing foreheads, and tickling silly. So, at bedtime, I just want them to go to bed. I have a million things to do; and, if I lay with one child, then I have to lay with 6. And, by the end of that, I am toast!!! But, I lay down with kids because I have one who needs me to feel secure to go off to bed, and I do this because I am the MOM.

TRUTH #5

I don’t like putting bandaids on pretend injuries. I am a pull-yourself-up-by-your-boot straps kind of girl. Both of my parents worked as I was growing up, so I learned how to take care of myself and my brother pretty early in life. I don’t like whiners or crybabies. But, when the cries and whines come from a deep place within a child who is really just testing if you love them or not, then I put on a smile, get out the bandaids, and pretend we are preforming a serious operation. I do that because I am the MOM.

TRUTH #6

More people could do what I do because I am no one special. I am just a MOM being available to the Lord.

The bottom line is that if you think I live a fairytale life or you want a fairytale adoption journey, then you are living in a fantasy world. I am living out the fairytales that are written about in Scripture.

Serving

Giving

Dying to self

Loving the least of these

Telling people about Jesus

Seeing my brothers/sister who are hurting

Prince Eric & Ariel–Prince Charming & Sleeping Beauty–Cinderella & her Prince–Jasmine & Alladin got nothing on Scott and I!!! You decide which fairytale you want to live out on this earth, because it will determine which life you live for eternity.

________________________________________

Gwen Oatsvall

Gwen Oatsvall is a wife and mother of 6 and is passionate about orphans and Jesus. She knew that their family had a part in helping, loving, and providing hope to the 147 million orphans of the world, so Gwen and her best friend cofounded

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