Through this season of prayer and seeking God through His Word, Scott and I had become convinced that indeed God was leading us to begin the process to adopt a little girl from China with “special needs.” It was all so different than the process we went through to adopt Beniam from Ethiopia. This time, we were looking at photos of waiting children and asking God to show us which one we should adopt. It felt so strange to make this choice and often we felt paralyzed and unsure of where to go from here.
We spent hours looking and reading and praying. Sometimes I wondered if we were taking too long. But now, I can look back and see what God was doing in that time. Every child we looked at I wondered, “Could this be our child?” So with every child, my heart was opened to see them as a son or daughter, not just a picture or a statistic of yet another orphan who I could not help. With each passing week, I became more willing to say “Whatever, Lord. Whatever you want. I just want to love one of these precious children.” And following this season of searching, my heart has broken more and more for children waiting for a family. Their faces are etched in my mind, and I am totally confident that God will use these things that have happened in my heart for further use down the road.
Then one day, I think we were just ready. And, we saw this picture of Mei and Scott said, “That’s her.” We did not know much about her at all, and her special need was one we had not considered before. That night we put her file on hold in order to have it reviewed by an international pediatrician who could tell us more. When I was getting ready to go to sleep that night, I began to think more about little Mei’s “special need,” and I thought maybe this wasn’t something I was comfortable with after all. I just let my mind focus on her medical records and lost sight of some other things. My heart was heavy, and I was worn out. I sighed and rolled over to turn on the alarm for tomorrow. As I did this, I whispered out loud a quick prayer, “What do you think, Lord? Please speak to me.” (Thinking that I was checking out for the night, and the prayer could maybe be answered tomorrow) I pushed the button to check the volume on the radio, and these were the exact words I heard:
Scott did not freak out. I decided to tell him on our car ride to see family over the weekend since the kids would be engrossed in their books or DVDs. And, he didn’t freak out. His attitude was that if God is calling us to this, then He would make that clear and take care of everything. I was so sure he would freak out that it freaked me out that he didn’t freak out. I handled it all very maturely by telling him he was crazy and climbing into the back seat to hang out with slightly more sane people. At which point, I kid you not, Scott calls out, “Hey kids, you wanna adopt a sister into our family?” This was met with a rousing cheer from the back.
Now, I was really mad! This is not how we normally handle family decisions!
But, I was beginning to get excited too.
After talking about it some more, I agreed to find out more about “Mandy” acknowledging that God was probably calling us to be an advocate for her and help her find a family. When I inquired, we found that Mandy had found her family.
But, we both knew that God was doing something in our family, so we began to pray and read scripture, seeking His will. My heart began to be softened and eager to follow wherever God was leading us. But, I was still scared. At first, all I could see was my own weaknesses, limitations, and inabilities. But, day after day of drawing near to God, I found that I was seeing things more from his perspective. And, everything changed.
And I do mean everything. Not just my desire to follow his will no matter what. But the way I looked at my day and my kids and my house and my husband. The further we went on this journey, the more I was throwing off all these things that had hindered me from stepping out in the first place. Worry. Fear. Selfishness. Doubt. Discontentment with what I’ve been given or how my day goes. All of a sudden things that used to seem such a big deal- a missed nap, a temper tantrum, the flu, potty training, a migraine… they were all things that I could laugh in the midst of. Because, slowly, I was seeing it all through a different lens.
And that lens was Truth. It was the Word that I said I believed and loved but now I would have to live. It was the God I said I trusted but never had I been asked to trust so much. And, He was so very patient with me in my doubt. So very gracious to continue to meet me when I asked for Him to show me the way.
I remember specifically one night when I was focusing my thoughts on what others would think of our decision to adopt a child with “special needs.” I was holding my Bible open again.
“God, this is crazy. Seriously. This is crazy.”
And just as clear as day, this is what came to my mind . . . a patient, gentle voice, but firm . . .
“Haley, everything in here is crazy.”
And, I looked back down at the Bible and thought, “Did I hear that right?” So I began to think through all the stories of the Bible I could think of. And it is true. From a human perspective, everything in there is crazy. Everything.
It was a significant moment for me. Because I knew that I believed it all and God had confirmed it over and over again in my life. So if what was Good and True and Love and the Way of Jesus were crazy in the eyes of man, well then, call me crazy.
Part 3 to follow…
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Haley Long
I am a recipient of amazing grace. I’ve been married 11 years to my husband, Scott. We had 2 children, Isaac and Zoe. Then one day God met us both in the same moment and broke our hearts and filled them with love for orphan children. In 2008, we brought our son Beniam, now 3, home from Ethiopia. We are currently in the process to adopt a little girl named Mei from China. I am a Florida girl who loves sunshine, water, and sand. I enjoy almost anything you can do outdoors, especially in the mountains. When forced to stay inside, I love to read and write.
Adopting Mei was not our idea. We both knew that we wanted to adopt again and had our ideas of what that would look like. We would adopt a girl, maybe about 4 years old from Ethiopia or domestically, and we would wait until Beniam was in kindergarten. Because God knows we have our hands full right now. I mean, if everyone who sees me in the grocery store with all three kids remarks that I have my hands full, surely God knows, too. That is what I thought. Because that is how I looked at it then.
But, then one night, I was looking at this girl staring back at me on a computer screen. She was a “waiting child” from China. I had not intended to see her. (It is easier if you do not see.) I was innocently checking a blog to see an update on a friend’s new daughter from China. I did not know that she primarily uses her blog to advocate for waiting children in China.
Isn’t that the way it always works? Once you think you’re really making progress, there’s a flare-up that lets you know you’re not out of the woods yet.
Just yesterday, I bragged on how well Caden is adjusting. I’ve been seeing it time after time again. And, last night, he blew me away with his increasing vocabulary…not only by identifying Yoda as “Tar War” but by repeating the majority of the alphabet after Chloe.
Then, today it happened. For the first time in months, Caden took his fighting stance. Along with tantrums, eating nonstop and his separation anxiety issues…all of which are GREATLY improving…it’s the only negative result of his orphanage upbringing that we’ve seen. It’s hard to know exactly what will set him off, but it almost always happens if you take a toy away from him. Therefore, I’ve trained the kids not to do that. But, this afternoon, I promised them the treat of an “On Demand” movie if they cleaned up the tornado aftermath mess upstairs. They’ve had a very “creative” morning, and I wanted it taken care of prior to dinner.
I had assigned Eva the task of collecting the Barbies (and their accessories) and putting them back in their plastic tote. So, in the clean-up process, she tried to take the plastic Barbie horse away from Caden…and then it happened. I was in their room helping Chloe pick up, and I saw it. But, I wasn’t fast enough. Caden rocked back on his legs, raised his hand, and swung the horse right across Eva’s face. He reminded me of a spider about to attack its predator…as he always does when he takes his fighting stance. I grabbed his arm immediately after he made contact and said in a firm loud voice, “No. You cannot hit your sister!” I continued holding onto his arm while I took away the horse and put it where it belonged. As soon as I let go, Caden ran off crying. I took a quick look at Eva’s face and gave her a kiss on her “boo boo,” then I took off after him.
I found Caden in my closet, sobbing a heartbreaking sob that always takes me back to Gotcha Day. I grabbed him up and snuggled him close. Through his sobs, I gave him gentle kisses that created another scenario very reminiscent of Gotcha Day. Finally, I got him calmed down, and I switched him from “snuggling position” to “cradling position”. Then, I looked down into those brown eyes I fell in love with in a referral picture over a year ago and said, “Mommy loves you.” He shook his head no. So I told him over and over and over again…kissing and snuggling more as I progressed.
I know this is perfectly normal for adoptive families. And I’ve had that point reiterated through the 12 hours of online Hague training I finished this morning…in addition to the 10 hours that I took for Caden’s adoption. I know. It’s been drilled into my brain.
My baby boy fell asleep in my arms sitting on the floor of my dark walk-in closet. And, the tears began to flow. I was crying because he doubted my love…even for a second. I cried because a 2-year-old should not even know how to defend themselves like a wild animal under attack. I cried because I can’t make the damage done during his 21 months in the orphanage go away. I cried because there was a time when he wouldn’t fall asleep in my arms. And, I cried because soon I’ll have another wounded soul calling me Mama.
We stayed true to our original plan…GOD’s original plan, rather…and are pursuing a little girl with a congenital heart defect. Her heart will be broken in ways that the cardiologists won’t be able to fix…or even stabilize with medication. Her heart will be broken in ways that Mama can’t make go away no matter how hard she tries. And that scares me as much as the complications that can arise from complex CHD.
When you adopt a child, their pain becomes your pain. It’s no different than your biological children…but the relationship is. The bonds are harder to form…and easier to damage. It’s a battle establishing a good, solid relationship with them. And it’s a battle helping them overcome the baggage from their past. You can’t be a bystander…you have to be proactive. It takes hard work to get through the issues adoptive families face. It’s not easy meeting the needs of a child who has been hurt emotionally.
As an adoptive parent, you have to develop your own fighting stance.
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Tara Anderson
Tara Anderson began a journey of grace over 20 years ago when she walked the aisle of a little country church and gave her heart to Jesus. She is a stay-at-home mother of four, the youngest of whom was adopted through the China Waiting Child Program in November 2010. Not too long ago, Tara knew exactly who she was and exactly what she wanted out of life…but now she’s just trying to figure out who God intends her to be, and what He wants from her. You can get better acquainted with Tara on her personal blog, Following Our Leader.
At the end of May, our family attended our son JT’s Senior Dinner and Robing Ceremony. We had never witnessed a Robing Ceremony and though we knew it would be moving, we had no idea what was in store as JT took Ruby by the hand and led her to the stage where this testimony written by JT was read by the Dean.
JT Chapman
Robing Sponsor: Ruby Caroline Chapman – Sister
This past summer, my parents and I traveled to China to adopt a little girl. The trip was an ordeal both for us and for the newest member of our family, Ruby. My sister, Ruby, has been such a blessing to our family in so many ways.
I chose Ruby as my robing sponsor because she is a living example of God’s Grace and Mercy. Ruby’s strength and courage in the face of adversity, and her willingness to trust, to love, and to choose joy has had a profound impact on my life.
Ruby, I admire you and I am so grateful for the light that you are to our family.
I love you forever.
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Amy Chapman
I am Amy…Grateful mother of now 5 precious children and wife to my best friend of 28 years. First and foremost…my Father’s daughter. Together with my family, experiencing the forever miracle of adoption…one blessed day at a time…and sharing at our family blog, For Such a Time As This.
To topple the “stronghold of our experiences” we must “let God be found true, though every man be found a liar” (Romans 3:4). The only One who has a right to shape our lives is Jesus Christ. We must determine to allow nothing and no one to shape us, not even our personal experiences, unless they are consistent with the promises of God. In truth, who is ruling our lives, God or our experiences?
Francis Frangipane, The Three Battlefields
Who is this child?
I heard once that personhood can be defined in three parts: (1) Identity, (2) Acceptance, (3) Approval. This intrigued me, as I have become increasingly convinced that our precious adopted children’s wholeness and healing directly correlates with their understanding and belief in who they are. Do you remember what God the Father said about Jesus when He was baptized? “This is (1) My Son, (2) My Beloved, (3) In Whom I Delight!” (Matthew 3:17) Jesus received this public affirmation from His Father–his identity as a son of his Father, his acceptance as one who is loved, and the approving delight of his Father. When we ask the question, “Who is this child?” as parents, we have the opportunity to partner with the Holy Spirit to see God’s eternal purposes manifested in his or her life, going way past the surface issues of behavior into the depth of their identity in Christ.
What is God Seeing? What is God Saying?
My favorite example of this is found in the story of Gideon (Judges 6)– I love this story! There is Gideon threshing wheat in secret, hiding in a wine press so that the Midianite enemy can’t steal it from him. And then the Angel of the Lord shows up and says, “The Lord is with you, you mighty man of valor.” Notice, Gideon is not even wearing armor, he has no sword, he is hiding in justified fear–there is nothing about him that would indicate that he is indeed a “might man of valor.” What in the world was God thinking?! More importantly, what was God seeing?
Facts or Truth?
Do you see the huge gap between the Word of the Lord and the facts at hand?! There is a disturbing and direct opposition between God’s words and what can be seen at the present moment. In this situation it is key to recognize the difference between facts and truth. Facts are simply an accurate description of a circumstance. Facts change, but Truth–God’s Word–remains.
How often do we look at our children and see only a repeated negative behavior or character trait. We must look to who they are in the Spirit. Notice, God did not say, “You will be a mighty man of valor once I finish my work in you.” I don’t know about you, but to me it almost feels like God made a mistake here. But rather, I think what is going on is that God saw something in Gideon in the Spirit, something that had not yet manifested but was, nevertheless, TRUE. Also, let’s take note that God did not attack him with words like, “Gideon, you are a gutless wimp. Shape up here.” As with Jesus, God spoke out loud into Gideon his identity in the very midst of the facts that spoke as loud as any words, “Fearful, not Mighty.”
Calling Forth the Treasure
Part of our role as fathers and mothers is to speak WORDS OF LIFE and TRUTH
If a commission by an earthly king is considered a honor, how can a commission by a Heavenly King be considered a sacrifice?
-David Livingstone
I just stumbled on this quote on a website. I fell in love. It SO spoke to my heart. It was the balm God had intended to soothe this soul.
You see, yesterday we were given a little peek into an opposing view. It seems that at least one person out there believes we are “ruining Raegan’s and Alex’s lives” by adopting our littles. I probably don’t have to tell you that this Momma-Bear got hot in a hurry! Thankfully, my awesome husband broke this news to me when we were tucked safely in our home alone.
It’s not that I expect the whole world to agree with us, hardly. I know there will be those who think we’ve lost it, and I am fine with that. These words though, these words hurt. Deep. They hurt because our littles may not be ours legally yet, but they are ours in our hearts. You don’t mess with my babies and this felt like an attack not on me or us, but on my babies. Even typing this out my blood starts pumping faster within these veins of mine.
We’ve heard other lunacy of course as we’ve been on this journey. Satan has effectively put the blinders on many people, which is a huge part of the reason there continues to be an orphan crisis around the world if you ask me.
Alright, this all brings me back to the Livingstone quote above. Why is it that this is EXACTLY how so many consider serving the God of the Universe? Begrudgingly. Sacrificially. Moaning and groaning and sad faces. Yes, the Lord calls us to hard places sometimes. Yes, He calls us to leave things behind. Yes, He changes the landscape of our lives. Yes, He grows us and nurtures us and loves us. He disciplines us and disciples us. Sometimes change, growth, discipline is painful. None of it happens out of anything other than His LOVE for us. None of it.
Please don’t ever look on anything our family is doing as sacrifice to God. It is privilege. It is our honor to serve alongside our Jesus. It is our awesome privilege to walk this path of faith with God. Do me a favor and look on our journey with awe, but not sympathy. Regardless of the road ahead it is all because of LOVE. His love for us and our love for Him and His…and the ones He entrusts to our care whether by biological means, legal means, or just pure and simple heartstrings.
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Chasity Cole
Chasity is a daughter of the Father, a wife to her soulmate, and mother to 2 children by birth and 2 by heart strings whom they are in the process of adopting very soon. She blogs about life, faith, adoption, orphans, and the occasional random rambling at All Things His.
Izabella is starting to figure out babies come from a Mommy’s tummy. She first started noticing this when we were at church during Christmas–she calls her “Mommy Mary.” Then she’s says, “You Mommy Lisa.” Pretty precious.
But, the other day, she came upstairs holding her baby oh-so-tenderly and with the sweetest, soft little voice, she began this conversation with me.
I: Mommy. I had a baby. My baby come from my tummy. Isn’t she beautiful!
M: Oh yes! She’s very pretty Izabella.
I: Mommy you have baby in your tummy?
M: No. I didn’t grow any babies in my tummy.
I: Izabella in your tummy.
M: No. You grew in your China Mommy’s tummy.
I: Oh. I grew in your heart. China Mommy tummy.
I have never felt a “void” for not having bio children. Never even a pinge of disappointment. It’s not that I didn’t want to have children. I wanted a family. I just never thought that meant giving birth to a child. I always wanted to adopt, and that was as exciting to me as anything, if not more. I will say, the roller coaster ride we were on when we tried to get pregnant early in our marriage was not fun. But that wasn’t disappointment about not being pregnant each month as much as it was the thought of not being a mom at all. As Dan was so opposed to adoption at that time.
BUT, for some reason, this question, coming from this precious little girl–looking up at me with those dreamy brown eyes, holding her little beautiful baby doll I got her for Christmas touched me in a very deep way. It was as if I was hit with a JOLT of reality, as the words poured out in answer, “No. I didn’t grow any babies in my tummy.” Brings a tear to my eye now just writing this. Oh goodness!! I thought to myself, “Wow. I never grew a baby in my tummy. AND I never will.” Good thing Izabella was sitting next to me, or I might have melted into a complete emotional wreck right then and there. Good thing the question came from the lips of the most precious thing I’ve ever met–even if I didn’t grow her in my tummy. God is good to have delivered this jolt of reality from such a beautiful source of love–His gift to us–her.
Deep breath, exhale, and on with our evening. In the coming days, she started asking at least once a day, usually at bedtime. “Mommy, did you ever hold me like this?” As she cradles her arms together as if to cradle a tiny baby. This conversation is equally as difficult…although I think for me more than her.
Then a few days ago, I was cradling her in my arms, like “my baby.” And I realized I do this a lot. And often when I do it, she will talk and act like a baby. And, I have to admit, I love her complete submission to me in those moments as I look in her eyes and tell her how very much I love her and kiss her forehead sweetly. She coos like a baby then is up and off doing her toddler thing.
Recently, we were doing this and instead of running off–she locked eyes with me. She stared at me for what seemed an hour but was probably more like 15 minutes. All the while, I watched her scan my face with the most blank look. As if she was taking in every detail of my face. I couldn’t look away. It was as if I was hypnotized by her face, her look.
She’s done this before for brief moments–always memorable, but this one will remain so clear in my heart.
Next time she asks me if I cradled her like a baby. I will tell her, “Yes, and I will do so until you’re a very old woman if I can.”
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Lisa Arndt
Lisa had the spirit of adoption laid on her heart the young age of 13 and longed to be a mom all her life. After meeting Dan at age 39, they married and began life as a couple in 1999. In 2007, with no children yet, a desire to have a family and the dream to be an adoptive mom to fulfill–they started their journey to grow a family–through international adoption. And God delivered their dream in the sweetest, most joyfully spirited, compassionate, and courageous little girl from Shaanxi, China they named Izabella Daniellei. Lisa feels passionately about following God’s plan for her, her family, her friends, and the miracle of adoption. She is a freelance graphic designer with an in-home design studio that has blessed her with the ability to be a stay-at-home mom. Dan is a big hearted, Harley riding, heavy equipment operator who’s completely in love with his new family of 3. Izabella rocks their world to levels they never knew possible–as evidenced in their family blog.
I don’t know anything about Jaydn’s biological father. The only information we have about her first 5 months of life (aka pre-orphanage) involve her biological mom alone. I don’t know if her bio father was a presence or a stranger, and I don’t think Jaydn will ever remember either. That is just one of the mysteries we have to learn to live with the tension of when you adopt a child. There are just some questions that will never be answered.
But as Father’s Day approaches, my attention doesn’t turn in the direction of Jaydn’s biological father but to the Father to the Fatherless. He has been providing for her needs long before she could ever know she needed it. As far as she knew, there was no male role model in her life. No one was there to show her respect and authority in a loving manner. She didn’t have a male presence that represented honor and strength combined with tenderness and support. But, behind the scenes of her precious little life, God was grooming a man to fill that void in her future world. He knew that eventually she would need a hand to hold and a lap to crawl into that represented all God was to her. So for years, even before she was born, God began growing a love for Jaydn in the heart of a small-town Kentucky boy who would one day have the courage to get on a plane and change both of their lives forever.
The grimace on Jaydn’s face when we saw her for the first time was so harsh. Her eyes avoided contact while her hand reached out for a comforting touch. “Who are these Mzungus [white people] and why are they here to see me?” she must have thought. It was clear the idea of us being her parents was far from her comprehension or desire in that moment. As the day continued on, she would let us hold her but any facial expression other than that original of complete anger was not being shown to us. We shared a meal with the mamas and other children and talked for hours but then it was nap time. I use that term loosely b/c my version of nap time is much stricter than the orphanage’s version was. Basically, it was just time for the kids to stay in the building for a while. Something in Nathan “clicked” during that section of time, and he sought Jaydn out. He went into her room and to the side of her bed and started tickling her. After a few times, the sweetest sound I had ever heard came to kiss my ears… laughter.
Our daughter was laughing!!! Nathan, being the comedian that he is, made silly faces and played peek a boo and did everything he could to keep this once angry, eye-contact-avoiding little girl laughing! Soon the whole room was erupting in playful noises and chuckles-it was such a joyful scene to observe from the lens of my video camera. But, then…it happened. Nathan ducked out of the room and hid from Jaydn’s sight and she called out for him, “DADDY??!” The tears poured from my eyes as I witnessed my daughter identifying the man in front of her, making her laugh as the man who would provide for her, lead her, and comfort her in the days ahead. Nathan came around the corner, “Did you hear that!? She called me Daddy!!” I couldn’t speak I was in such awe of the moment. It was as if God’s strategic intersecting of her need for a Father and Nathan’s desire to represent the Gospel message to the world could finally be heard through those 5 little letters D-A-D-D-Y. My daughter’s first word was “daddy.” Nathan represented everything that term of endearment was meant to imply, and she knew it!
So, I don’t know anything about Jaydn’s biological father, but I know a lot about her heavenly one and even more about her earthly one in Nathan. God handpicked Nathan to be Jaydn’s daddy. I know that she couldn’t have had a better man appointed to teach her leadership through sacrifice and obedience through love. This Father’s Day, we celebrate the remarkable example God gives us of unconditional love as our own personal Abba and also Jaydn’s first year of knowing, through tangible experience, how loved she has always been by her Daddy’s. Happy Father’s Day!
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Bethany Gaddis
I have been married going on 8 years to a worship pastor, a rock star, and the most involved and intentional dad I have ever seen! Together, we have the privilege of parenting three amazing children (Jaxon- 5 1/2, Jovie, 2 1/2, and Jaydn 2). Jaydn recently came to us through adoption from Uganda, Africa. We just moved to Little Rock, Arkansas, but I am a west-coast girl at heart. I enjoy photography, adventure recreation, and teaching high-school students about the most important decision they could ever make: to follow Jesus.
I guess since it is getting pretty close to Fathers Day, it would be a great time to reminisce and pontificate over the roles and impact fathers can have on their family. It would also be a great time to dig out a dictionary and look up what the word pontificate really means. Because really, I just used it ‘cuz it sounded good.
There was once a young man standing in a SuperStore store pacing nervously back and forth just outside of the dirty grungy washroom. He looked to be the age of 16, but in truth was probably closer to 20. His distant stare shifted back between the $4.95 Timex SPORT watch on his wrist and the light green door with peeling paint and a slightly off centered iconic woman embossed in white, against a plastic background.
Elsewhere, a slightly older gentleman was sitting in an office, staring at a pile of paper. Government stamps abounded on the paperwork and his hand was slightly tired from signing so many pieces of paper covered in words to which he was still trying to come to terms with. His focused gaze calmed moved from paper to wife sitting beside him – staring at the same stack of papers, with the same questions racing through her head as his.
Slowly the peeling green door started to open. A slightly older woman a little heavy set begins to step out and is startled by the wild eyed young man who instinctively moved towards the door when it opened. As his face fell from the disapproving eyes of the older woman, he noticed a slight figure slip out from behind her. His face lifted as the slight figure was the very reason he had been pacing for the last 20 minutes, as if waiting for the world to change. Her green eyes met his, and in a fluster she grabbed his hand and started walking out from the washroom area as fast as she could without breaking into a sprint.
The slightly older gentleman reached across the table to hold the hand of his wife reassuringly. She smiled slightly and shook her head as if to say “We are crazy for even trying this. Everyone thinks so.” With a confident smile he reassures her that this is the right decision, and that despite what friends, family, and even their own doubts think, this is the right decision.
Racing for the doors, the young disheveled man finally plants his feet as asks the only question which can quell his racing mind. “Are you pregnant?” he asks. The young girl nods her head as they stand staring at each other knowing their whole world has changed…hopefully, for the better. “Only thing we can do now, is wait,” the young man offers as if to provide a small measure of reassurance to a terrified young woman.
The social worker interrupts the silent conversation the gentleman was having with his wife. The type of conversation which can only be had by two people who had been married for over 15 years and gone though life together as if they truly were but one person. “All done, you are ready to adopt! All that is left now is to wait,” the social worker offers, as if to provide a small measure of reassurance to a hopeful couple, wanting desperately to hold onto an old dream, almost forgotten, and almost given up on.
Time passes for both couples. Both men struggle to come to terms with what it means to be a father and husband. One young and full of blind optimism and confidence that all things can be overcome, lacking in wisdom or any real parenting skills of which to speak. The older gentleman, well versed in parenting theology, having consumed many books on the subject matter, yet lacking in wisdom or any real parenting skills of which so speak.
However, as time marches on, both fathers can be found each night walking their new baby girls.
A tiny blond girl in the arms of her young father, feeling safe in his strong arms as he sings Aerosmith rock ballads to her before laying her down in their bed by her exhausted mother. Praying over his new baby girl, she drifts of to sleep.
In the aged arms of the other father rests a slightly larger daughter with black hair, brown eyes, and a very different complexion. While she begins to come to terms with her new life, and leaving everything she once knew a half world away, she finds peace in the strong arms of her newly found father who gently sings Steven Curtis Chapman to her and lays her down with a prayer and a kiss as she drifts off to sleep.
Now, it may be shocking… okay, not really, I’m sure you’ve figured out the story by now… but, just so the younger readers can follow along, I am both Dads.
Our first pregnancy was not exactly planned. I mean, we were married already, had a 700-square-foot apartment which we paid $419 a month for – but had just bought a one-bedroom condo and a two-door car. I wasn’t even in school and had no real education to speak of. We had just decided to wait 3 to 5 years before having children. And, yes, we really did run to the closest SuperStore and bought a pregnancy test. The wife ran into the Women’s Washroom (she wasn’t gonna wait for us to walk ALL the way home) and peed on the stick while I paced back and forth for what seemed like an eternity.
Three biological children later, we started adopting. Our first child is home from China, and our second is still waiting for us, hopefully coming home this fall. Getting these children into the family was a little more…deliberate. Adoption dosn’t seem to happen by “accident.” I have not run across anyone who said to me, “I don’t know what happened. My wife and I were at home just filling out paper work and BAM! 27 Months later, a kid showed up! Dang, I should have used a pencil!”
In the end though, all my children know they are loved, growing, bright, confident and exactly where God wants them to be. Which means, I must be the father God had chosen for them…for some reason…I don’t always see that reason though. But, if I follow Gods leading in this journey of parenthood…then I can be a good father.
There is no wrong time to become a father, nor is there right or wrong way to become a father…if you are called to be a father, then you know what, be a father. Don’t worry about being a perfect father…just be a good father.
So, to all you Fathers out there (or soon to be)…good on ya! Cherish every moment you have with your children, however they came into your life, because they will be gone far too soon.
How a father is made is not nearly as important as what the father is made of.
Keep your sticks on the ice, and go hug a child… hopefully, one of yours. If not one of yours, ask permission first.
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Adrian Berzenji
Adrian and Roberta have been married for over 13 years. They