The feelings are settled so deep that my mind has yet to form them into words. Even now, a gentle ache pulses where my heart is and I find that my mind is grasping for words, for Truth.
Sorrow. Sacrifice. Surrender. S-words slip through my subconscious praying to take form and become something substantial.
What would I be signing up for? What if I regret it?
A girl beaten on the head at four months old, a boy given meth at three months to stop the crying, a 7 year old sneaking away from school during lunch to give her baby sister her a bottle during the day, a child who was never bathed. O God. O God. O GOD.
Tears are forming too deep in my heart to rise in my eyes.
What are You asking of me?
I think about their stories now, a 7, 8, & 9 year old, adopted into a loving and yet, overwhelmed family. These three children have disabilities, they all are struggling with their identity and finding coping mechanisms, all dealing with the abuses that happened before they were even a year old. I think about their adoptive mother - exhausted, overworked, tired, and sometimes wondering if this is really what she wanted for her life. But she loves them, so she keeps going.
Is this really what I want for my life?
But, O God... what if I don't? Who will? Who will give their life to five abandoned siblings lost in the foster system? Who will adopt the baby with down syndrome? Who will care if I don't?
I ask God - Why? Why aren't you doing something? And then He speaks and it makes my heart tremble and ache. "You are the body of Christ. You are the one I've called to do something. You are my hands and feet. Let me use You." And if I am part of the body of Christ, how can I not take them into my home and my heart?
But what if I regret it? What if I don't have enough love to give? What if it harms my children?
And then I think of Jesus and what He did. And a God who gave His own Son.
How can I not? And that's when the tears spring to my eyes. I realize what this means to me now - it means surrender, and sacrifice, and sorrow after sorrow. But if my Lord was acquainted with sorrows, why do I hold myself apart as if I should be protected from them? If my Father gave His own Son to adopt me, then why do I withhold my arms from others in need? And if my King humbled himself and gave His resources to ransom me, than how can I not give away my own?
So how can I not?
But God, I'm not sure I'm ready for this. I'm not sure I understand what I'm giving up. I'm not sure I'll do it well. I'm not sure I can handle the needs of children who have been unloved for so long. I'm not sure I would know how to respond to them rejecting my love and concern for them...or Yours.
His name as a prayer on my lips. I can think of nothing except His name. O God. Jesus. Yahweh. Emmanuel. His name gives me strength. His name draws me close. His name is enough. O God. O God. O God.
How can I not?
--------
I wrote this earlier in September 2013, though never posted it. Since then, I've watched friends adopt and known friends who have been adopted. I heard stories about an imperfect foster and adoption system, and read countless abuses of international adoptions. I've had friends who were adopted and have shared challenges they've endured. I've known some who have adopted and wished they hadn't. Others who have never been adopted and wished they had. I've known women who have had their children ripped from their arms and placed into the foster system. I've known children who have been ripped from their parents, and long to be home with them, no matter how broken a world they came from.
And very recently, I've met a woman who adopted a beautiful son who was terminally ill. And watched her baby pass from this world into the next. As she told me her story, I cried streams of tears and asked myself, would I be willing to suffer like that for another person?
I've learned and read and watched and studied and listened. And each day, my own life began to feel harder and more challenging. The idea of adding more chaos, and stress, and challenges felt overwhelming. And on top of that, God pulled us away from all our family and moved us to a place where we have absolutely no familial support.
Before we moved to Indiana, one evening Andy and I were wondering aloud about God's reasoning in moving us to the City of Churches. Why there? I would prefer Africa personally, and there certainly seemed to be a plethora of ministries and churches doing local outreach. Why would God be sending us there, of all places? As our minds wondered together, I remember saying, "Who knows? Maybe there is a child there that God wants us to adopt."
Since being here, adoption has thrummed in my heart like a growing crescendo. The weight of it feels tangible and the necessity of it feels impending. Even when we bought a house recently, the main thing I heard from the Lord about what we were to look for was big, so He could fill it. Okay, that wasn't in my plans, but sure, a big house sounds great.
And now being settled in this new place, I feel an ache in my soul longing for that child or children who are missing from our family. I've begun to talk about them like I know they are coming, asking our current children whether they would want a brother or sister, as if we are actually pregnant, and preparing their little hearts for what God has planned for us.
Somehow, in the deepest part of my soul, despite the very real and painful realities of adoption, I know this is the direction we are headed. There have been so many times I've put it off because of our season in life or the size of our home or the challenges we were facing with our current children, but more and more recently, I know it is time. There are still challenges and I still end many of my days wondering how to do this whole parenting thing. Truthfully, parenting is probably my area of greatest insecurity. "Am I doing this well? Do I show them enough love? Am I teaching them and training them well enough? Are they going to turn out alright? Will they grow to love Jesus?" play through my head like a recording.
Why is it that God wants to work through our weaknesses? I would much rather Him choose my areas of strength. I would much rather walk into where He is calling me confident of my abilities to do it well. And yet, so rarely is that how He works. It seems to me that he takes the place we are least sure of, and asks us to trust Him to lead us. He holds our hands as we tell Him we aren't enough to do what He is calling us to do, and He assures us that He is enough. He reminds us that His power is made perfect in our weakness and then tells us to press into Him because His yoke is easy and His burden is light.
Friends, I know that adoption is hard. So hard. Harder than I ever imagined when the dream bloomed in my heart those many years ago. I know that it isn't going to just be hard for me. It will be hard for the child coming to our home and our family, for our current children, for my husband, for the people in our lives who choose to love and support us through this. No matter the angle I look at this from, I know it will be hard.
And then I read my own words, penned in a moment of deep feeling and conviction, and know quite deeply and surely, that God calls us to hard things for the sake of others. And while there are so many unknowns and so many bumps in the road we'll need to navigate moving forward, I know I can say "Yes" to Him in this.
Adoption, with all it's nuances, is the very heart of God. He loved the world so much that the cost of suffering to Him and His Son, was worth the price because it meant we would be His children. And the idea of the children that are yet to be apart of our family makes my heart thrill in the same way that I think God's heart thrills when someone becomes a child of God. In fact, the bible says that the angels in heaven rejoice when one person turns to God. If there is a party in heaven about God's adoptions, then I know that He is cheering us on as we move forward in following His leading in this.
Pray for us, will you? Pray also for the child or children that may become part of our family. At this point, we haven't done any adoption preparation (classes, home-studies, etc.), and so that means that our children are either not born yet or likely in very hard circumstances. Will you pray that God would begin assuring their hearts and telling them of His deep love for them and the family that is planning and praying for them, even before we ever meet them. Pray they would know the love of God that adopts us into His own family. Pray that they would be surrounded by angels and that God would protect them from as much harm and suffering as possible. Pray that their hearts would be resilient and they would learn the depth and the beauty of a love that gives of itself for others.
Pray that God would grow us into the parents we will need to be for them and for the children we are already raising and loving. Pray that our children would be blessed and drawn closer to God because of the family members we will be adding. Pray that we would have wisdom as we move forward about where to adopt and how to adopt and which agencies to adopt through. Pray that the Lord would guide our steps. Really, just pray however God might lead you.
This is the first steps of a journey towards adoption, and right now I have no clear ideas of what this will mean for our family specifically. I have no idea whether He will call us to adopt a terminally ill child or a child with severe disabilities or a child who is so hurt that their heart is numb. I don't know what we are walking into, but I do know that where ever He may lead, I will follow.
Join me in the journey?
{To follow along on our journey, you can subscribe to receive posts}
I wrote this earlier in September 2013, though never posted it. Since then, I've watched friends adopt and known friends who have been adopted. I heard stories about an imperfect foster and adoption system, and read countless abuses of international adoptions. I've had friends who were adopted and have shared challenges they've endured. I've known some who have adopted and wished they hadn't. Others who have never been adopted and wished they had. I've known women who have had their children ripped from their arms and placed into the foster system. I've known children who have been ripped from their parents, and long to be home with them, no matter how broken a world they came from.
And very recently, I've met a woman who adopted a beautiful son who was terminally ill. And watched her baby pass from this world into the next. As she told me her story, I cried streams of tears and asked myself, would I be willing to suffer like that for another person?
I've learned and read and watched and studied and listened. And each day, my own life began to feel harder and more challenging. The idea of adding more chaos, and stress, and challenges felt overwhelming. And on top of that, God pulled us away from all our family and moved us to a place where we have absolutely no familial support.
Before we moved to Indiana, one evening Andy and I were wondering aloud about God's reasoning in moving us to the City of Churches. Why there? I would prefer Africa personally, and there certainly seemed to be a plethora of ministries and churches doing local outreach. Why would God be sending us there, of all places? As our minds wondered together, I remember saying, "Who knows? Maybe there is a child there that God wants us to adopt."
Since being here, adoption has thrummed in my heart like a growing crescendo. The weight of it feels tangible and the necessity of it feels impending. Even when we bought a house recently, the main thing I heard from the Lord about what we were to look for was big, so He could fill it. Okay, that wasn't in my plans, but sure, a big house sounds great.
And now being settled in this new place, I feel an ache in my soul longing for that child or children who are missing from our family. I've begun to talk about them like I know they are coming, asking our current children whether they would want a brother or sister, as if we are actually pregnant, and preparing their little hearts for what God has planned for us.
Somehow, in the deepest part of my soul, despite the very real and painful realities of adoption, I know this is the direction we are headed. There have been so many times I've put it off because of our season in life or the size of our home or the challenges we were facing with our current children, but more and more recently, I know it is time. There are still challenges and I still end many of my days wondering how to do this whole parenting thing. Truthfully, parenting is probably my area of greatest insecurity. "Am I doing this well? Do I show them enough love? Am I teaching them and training them well enough? Are they going to turn out alright? Will they grow to love Jesus?" play through my head like a recording.
Why is it that God wants to work through our weaknesses? I would much rather Him choose my areas of strength. I would much rather walk into where He is calling me confident of my abilities to do it well. And yet, so rarely is that how He works. It seems to me that he takes the place we are least sure of, and asks us to trust Him to lead us. He holds our hands as we tell Him we aren't enough to do what He is calling us to do, and He assures us that He is enough. He reminds us that His power is made perfect in our weakness and then tells us to press into Him because His yoke is easy and His burden is light.
Friends, I know that adoption is hard. So hard. Harder than I ever imagined when the dream bloomed in my heart those many years ago. I know that it isn't going to just be hard for me. It will be hard for the child coming to our home and our family, for our current children, for my husband, for the people in our lives who choose to love and support us through this. No matter the angle I look at this from, I know it will be hard.
And then I read my own words, penned in a moment of deep feeling and conviction, and know quite deeply and surely, that God calls us to hard things for the sake of others. And while there are so many unknowns and so many bumps in the road we'll need to navigate moving forward, I know I can say "Yes" to Him in this.
Adoption, with all it's nuances, is the very heart of God. He loved the world so much that the cost of suffering to Him and His Son, was worth the price because it meant we would be His children. And the idea of the children that are yet to be apart of our family makes my heart thrill in the same way that I think God's heart thrills when someone becomes a child of God. In fact, the bible says that the angels in heaven rejoice when one person turns to God. If there is a party in heaven about God's adoptions, then I know that He is cheering us on as we move forward in following His leading in this.
Pray for us, will you? Pray also for the child or children that may become part of our family. At this point, we haven't done any adoption preparation (classes, home-studies, etc.), and so that means that our children are either not born yet or likely in very hard circumstances. Will you pray that God would begin assuring their hearts and telling them of His deep love for them and the family that is planning and praying for them, even before we ever meet them. Pray they would know the love of God that adopts us into His own family. Pray that they would be surrounded by angels and that God would protect them from as much harm and suffering as possible. Pray that their hearts would be resilient and they would learn the depth and the beauty of a love that gives of itself for others.
Pray that God would grow us into the parents we will need to be for them and for the children we are already raising and loving. Pray that our children would be blessed and drawn closer to God because of the family members we will be adding. Pray that we would have wisdom as we move forward about where to adopt and how to adopt and which agencies to adopt through. Pray that the Lord would guide our steps. Really, just pray however God might lead you.
This is the first steps of a journey towards adoption, and right now I have no clear ideas of what this will mean for our family specifically. I have no idea whether He will call us to adopt a terminally ill child or a child with severe disabilities or a child who is so hurt that their heart is numb. I don't know what we are walking into, but I do know that where ever He may lead, I will follow.
Join me in the journey?
{To follow along on our journey, you can subscribe to receive posts}
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