Month: July 2016

“How do you do it?”

“How are you sane?”

“Why did you adopt more?”

These are questions I have been asked along my journey as an adoptive mom. Some more regularly than I would like if I am being honest. I am always amazed at some of the things people will say thinking it perfectly normal. Some I give more grace to as I know they are at a loss for words as they see or hear about my kids behaviors. Others I simply roll my mind eyes at and just go about my business. I mean, let’s think about these questions for a minute. You go to a friend’s house and she, as a mother, is dealing with hard behaviors of her precious child. You then ask her how she does it, how she doesn’t lose her mind, and you look at her other child and ask why she had more. Oh, did I mention this friend is a mother of all bio children, her hard kid has cancer and she is dealing with the hard behaviors that the drugs cause. What? You would never ask her that? You would have compassion on her and the situation she is in? Tell me then why it is ok to ask adoptive mothers those very questions? Are they not real mothers because their kids aren’t really their kids? It is so easy for those around us to think how of course a bio mother with a child that has ADHD and runs around the house screaming and throwing tantrums would love that child, after all they are flesh and blood. But to accept that an adoptive mom could love another’s child that screams more than they laugh, or plays with their poop more than their play dough, or lets them know they hate her more than they love her is beyond possible. Well, let me share the heart of an adoptive mom with you and maybe, just maybe you will be able to grasp the idea that  one can love a child that is not of their flesh but of their heart.

Our journey started out like many others. We talked of children, we dreamed of them playing together and growing together. Vacations full of laughter and hearts full of love. When it was obvious that we would only be blessed with one bio child we began our journey to adopt. At first my heart was to give our son the joy of having a sibling, for him to have the memories and connections that we had growing up. As we began to research we began to understand that there might not be the same kind of memories and connections but instead there might be a deeper understanding of how to truly love a brother or sister unconditionally. We began to understand that the child or children we would bring into our home would be hurting and full of resentments that could take years to heal from. It was made clear that if we wanted adoption to complete our family we were doing it for the wrong reasons and should rethink our motives. So we did rethink our motives. Why did we want to adopt? Who did we want to adopt? What did we think we would get from adopting? Once those questions were answered we were ready to adopt for the right reasons.

Why did we want to adopt? To give a safe home to a child in need of one. To offer a chance at a successful future after having their childhood stolen from them. To take at least one child out of the running for the sex trade or streets of crime and possibly suicide.

Who did we want to adopt? A girl. Someone older that might be past the “cute” phase that pulls the heart-strings of those who will see her picture.

What did we think we would get from adopting? Though we knew we would get a daughter out of the process we also knew we would get a new prospective of what it means to love unconditionally. In this process of adopting an older child, one that is harder than most, one that might be headed to an institution rather than the deans list you have to choose everyday to love them no matter the hurt they cause you. You have to remind yourself of the hurt that one, if not multiple mothers before you have already caused them. You have to put aside your feelings, dreams, desires, and emotions in order to give them the love that they need from you.

We found our daughter, we were asked what we would do when it got harder than we thought it would be, how would we react to a child that has serious behavior problems. Would we change our mind and ask that she be removed from our home? That question hit me hard. I sat and thought about all the mothers I knew that had been given bio children that are a bit hard, those that have had to stay up night after night due to a handicap their child had been born with or had been given after life dealt them an unfair accident that led to an altered life. I knew not one of those mothers would ever walk their children back into the hospital they had them at and say they changed their minds and then walk out the door leaving them behind. I thought of my own son and knew I could never turn my back on him if he had something happen to him and needed extra love and care. I felt it at that moment, the love in my heart for our daughter I hadn’t met yet but knew I loved already. Much like when the doctor confirmed that I was pregnant with my son I felt a mothers love for her when the case worker said “we know you are her mom and dad”. She is mine, and once we figured out what it was that was causing her behaviors (trauma) we were able to make a plan and care for her the way she needed to be cared for. Much like bio-parents, we chose to have more children after her, only we adopted ours. We are a family. I do it everyday just like any other mom. I get up, get myself ready for the day, and take every crazy moment one at a time. I love my kids because they are my kids. Yes, they can be hard to like at times but they are never hard to love. Just like any mother who loves her child that once grew in her womb no matter the behaviors or the sacrifice that she has to make, I love my children that grew in my heart. I am their REAL mom, they are my REAL babies and that will never change. So, How do I do it? Just like you do. How do I stay sane? With a lot of prayer and a little wine! Why did I adopt more? Why haven’t you adopted one? They are my heart and soul, my goal in life is to help them heal and find joy, and so I write………………

I recently had a young lady ask me if I had a moment to answer a question. It had been a long day and I was really hoping it would be an easy one to answer so I could just go on to bed and sleep away all the emotions the day had already overwhelmed me with. I looked at her and told her of course. It wasn’t an easy one.

“If God really loves me and wants the best for me, if he really knows what is going to happen to us in this life, then why didn’t he just give me to my adoptive parents instead of me having to go through the hurt of being born to bad birth parents?”

Her question hit me harder than any from that day. I stood beside that sweet girl and my heart broke because I had no answer to give her. No hope of a brilliant plan I have the inside knowledge of. Instead I started to cry while looking into her confused and hurt face. “Do you know I adopted three of my kids?” I asked her grateful the night hid my tears from her. She looked surprised and answered no. I gave a silent prayer that God would give me the words and that they wouldn’t drip with the bitterness I have over this very question. “I am just going to have to be honest here and tell you I have no idea. I will add that I have asked this very question nearly every night since my kids have been placed with me. I will tell you I have cried, screamed, and demanded God to tell me why I couldn’t have just had my kids instead of them having to go through the hurt of those years with their birth families. I still don’t have an answer. If I can help you with anything on this it is giving you an insight to what your mom must feel just as strongly. I know that she wishes she could have been there from the first second. But know this, God does love you and he indeed hand-picked the mom and dad that would keep you safe and would show you his way. Someday I think you will be approached by a young girl that is hurting and confused and only you will be able to help her with a connection that you will feel to her and she will feel to you.” We spent the next hour or so talking as she poured out her heart, her hurt, and her confusion. I went to bed and didn’t find the sleep that would allow me to be free of the emotions of the day. Instead I wrestled once more with the plan that I can’t seem to understand, the questions I had for God, the anger I had with him over the orphans of this world. I could have had all three of my adopted kids. I would have enjoyed each pregnancy. I would have taken care of them from the first second they came to be. My womb would have been safe and full of love. I would have played music to them and read to them the same way I did their brother. I would have taken the vitamins, eaten healthy, and decorated their rooms full of hope and joy. I spent eight years begging God to let me do that very thing. Instead I picked up the pieces of the broken life my kids were born into.

Why?

How come?

What for?

These are the unanswerable questions. We won’t know why there are families that have the desire, ability, financial stability, and the dream to be loving safe parents and are unable to be. Meanwhile there are people who have no desire, no ability, and are not safe that have child after unwanted child after abused unwanted child. I would think it would be the other way around, but again I am not the one with the answers. I will struggle with this question until the day he gives me my answer, but has he somehow already tried to answer me and I have just been too bitter to listen. Well, there is a twist. I know that we are called God’s children, told that we are adopted into the inheritance of Jesus. We are shown through example that God has a heart for the orphans and then we are called to have the same heart. So if we all had our own perfect little bundles of joy, would we then reach out to the hurting orphans around us? Already I hear from friends on a daily basis how hard it must be for me and how they could never do what I do. I hear too often from people that it is just too hard to think about how bringing in a child might uproot the lives of the children they already have. So then is this an insight to why there are some unable to have their own, so the selfishness of an easy life isn’t there to fight? Does God use his people to give homes to those they wouldn’t think twice about if they had the rooms in it already full? Would we listen to the sermons of the preachers, the stories of the missionaries and say there is no room in the inn if our hearts were already full from the laughter of our own children? Where would my “high risk adoptive” kids be if I hadn’t had a heart for more children? This world will always be full of children needing a safe mom and dad but will it have enough men and women who will be willing to put aside comfort and sanity to offer their hearts and homes to those needing them most?

I present another question, will you step up to the plate and take on a hurting child in need of extra TLC? If the answer is no then, why? How come? What for? Our world is full of over 500,000  kids who are asking those very questions, and so I write………..

I am overwhelmed with sadness as I sit and write this. I was up most of the night watching the hate unravel in Dallas as the numbers of senseless deaths rose. I watched it. Live on Fox News, the camera went to the lifeless protectors after shots rang out.  I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, I looked at my friend and asked “are those cops on the ground?”  Then the anchor said in shock and horror that they would not show the bodies of fallen police officers. I was in shock and disgust. What has our world come to? Or has it always been this way? In between watching the news and cooking dinner I was navigating the hurt that my little one had caused a neighbor and I was overwhelmed with a hopeless emotion. What hope do my kids have of healing in a world so full of hate and anger? Why does it feel like the world is on fire? Then they hit me, the words of a speaker I had just listened to. “Hurt people hurt people.”

This world is full of hurt people. It has been since Adam and Eve were cast out of the garden. Since Cain killed Abel. Since always. We have always been a people of hurt. We have always lashed out at others through our hurt, some more than others. This is an undeniable truth but how have we been able to overcome these hurts in the past? Have we overcome our hurts? I have to look to my kids, what hurts have they been dealt? Have we been able to help them get past these hurts, or just suppress them?  I sat across from both my son and daughter at their therapy this morning and watched as they each reacted different to the therapist explain what we would be working on to help them heal. My daughter began to cry and admitted she didn’t really want to continue because it was not fun. My son sat and looked at his would be healer and said yes, he is ready. the hurt he carries is finally too heavy for his little shoulders and he wants to give it up. My daughter on the other hand doesn’t want to do the work it will take her to heal, she wants others to do it for her as she has fun somewhere else.

There it is, the ingredient to change: Desire or Want to change

So I wonder, what would the world look like if we all wanted  or desired it to be changed? I think back to the interviews of those around the horrific scene of downtown Dallas and I know there are two types of people who come out of these moments. One was a guy who spoke of what he saw. A man in the crowd carrying a gun and then how he heard shots. He said there were shots that came from the crowd of protesters and then the police shot into the crowd. The news caster asked if he was sure they came from the crowd and if the cops shot back, he said with anger in his eyes that yes the cops shot at them. Then there was a man who said the shots came from above and as the police fell others ran to protect the crowd. He was full of a different type anger, a kind that was awed that as fellow officers lost their lives those still standing rose to the call and protected the innocent.  Both men were of the same ethnic background, both men stood feet from where 5 lives were lost defending the right to protest, and both men showed their hearts. One wanted to spread fear, one wanted to spread a wake-up call.  I am almost certain that both at one point in time had been hurt by just being them, one chose to find a way to heal. I know, strong statement coming from just watching an interview but I know hurt in the eyes of those I look into, I know the look of a victim angered, after all I have three living in my home. 

Each has a different look in their eyes. One has a look of hurt surrounded by the fear of letting go of the control that anger gives her. One has the look of hurt surrounded by the shame that should not be his to carry and engulfed by the fear of what others will think of him if they truly know that hurt. One has a look of hurt surrounded by a high of power that hurt gives her to hurt others, that is the scariest look of hurt I have seen. I see it in those that spread hurt and hate on TV these days. I look into the eyes of my three wounded babies and I hurt with them. I hurt from not being able to go back and protect them from their pasts. I hurt every time I see them hurt each other do to those past hurts. I hurt every time I see them hurt by outsiders that don’t understand them and in turn fear what they don’t understand.  How do I stop the hurt though?  How do I teach them to love in spite of their hurts when all around them there are unsafe situations that threaten to cause them more hurt?

I fall back to the foot of the cross. In this world we were not promised a life without troubles, in fact it is quite the opposite. We were told in this life we would have hurts and yet we are called to love those that hurts us. Why? Because God knows that hurt people hurt people and he wants to offer hope and healing. Look around you, we are all surrounded by hurting people. We all have the opportunity to spread love or more hurt. I have a reason to spread love, well actually I have four reasons. I cannot choose to spread more hurt and anger and then expect my children to be happy healed adults. We are a small tribe in this vast world of hurting people. We are part of the few who have said yes to the hope offered by Christ and I pray that we each will be able to see the hurting and try to show them love. I pray that my little hurt people will no longer hurt people. I will continue to encourage them to choose the change that will bring healing, I will continue to choose to forgive those that hurt them so badly in their past lives and I will choose to forgive those that will hurt them in their future lives. That is all each of us can do. Desire change. Spread love. Pray for a world all our children can grow up safety in. I cannot control their hurt, I can only choose to not hurt back when they strike out at me, and so I write……….