Why Older Child Adoption is So Hard

Jesus is the Light, our Hope

Older child adoption is a beautiful thing...but at the same time it's a deeply hard thing.
And when the face of the child is SO beautiful, SO smiley, NO ONE CAN IMAGINE that it's not all sunny and rosy all the time.
But it's not.
Plain and simple.
When you've fended for yourself for ten long years, in an institutional environment, you learn to survive.
And those skills? They were reinforced again and again in her previous life. They are what made her STAY ALIVE.
You have your life whirl-winded off to another land, another culture, language...you wear different clothes, eat different foods, go by a different name, begin new things like walking, school and self care...
but the old habits are still lying underneath. Ready to rear their ugly heads.
Ready to be employed when deep emotions start to surface.
They worked before! They will work again!
But, well, not so much.
Not here. Not in a family.
My sweet friend sent me a message today. Her perspective on parenting and WHY this might be so hard:
Deeply praying for you all during what looks like a potentially long hard road with her. It's obviously a heart issue...and she's had less than one year of her 11 years of ANYONE teaching her what that even means. You're stuck/privileged (depends on the day how you see it, I'm sure) with having to make up for 10+ years of no one teaching her right and wrong and positive vs negative attention and lying and how to be in a family and the list of what we teach our kids is soooooo long!!! It's hard enough when we get to start from the beginning of their lives! Praying for wisdom and endurance and extra measures of grace for you to give to her, and a softening and opening of her heart to all you've been trying to teach her in these last 10 months!
And isn't that the truth? It's HARD when we start with our children at birth! Let alone massive trauma at the front end! And don't forget to factor in atrocities suffered in the years while waiting for a family. How could we think that we can teach her what she needs in a few months?
We don't. But, on a daily practical basis, we expect things from her to keep our family functioning...afterall she's CAPABLE, but then again...she's not because of so many, many factors.
Older child adoption is hard because we are starting past the middle! We've lost formative years, laying groundwork and building trust. Trying to go backward to fit it in doesn't work because there are paradigms pre-existing in those places in her brain...and they were critical to her survival. I can't in one word, one week, one month, one year say ANYTHING to debunk them. 
It's a slow, plodding work.
Times like these I see the inside out yuck of my own black heart and sit in awed wonder at the grace God has on ME.
Please pray for Esty. Pray for us as her parents. Pray for her siblings. These things affect us all, wear on us all and we need to remember that we are called to this, no matter what.  (This is why adoption is intense ministry!)

We must cling to the hope of Christ in it all.

Lessons from the Dark

Happy September!
Oh, I am so happy to be able to say that. I had my personal WORST August ever.
I was allowed to endure an onerous month long sifting. 
It was long.
It was intense.
I thought I wasn't going to make it.
(If you feel like you can tolerate your suffering, then you ain't really suffering yet!)
And now...I feel like the darkness has passed.
At times now, and while I was experiencing it, I was tempted to try and understand it. Questioning constantly what was I doing wrong, why did I feel this way, how could I do better...and eventually, between my tears and abbreviated prayers that only sounded like weak cries from a baby seal, "HELP!" did I give up trying to UNDERSTAND it...
...and I just tried to survive.
I tend to be a very buoyant person. Something goes wrong pushing me under, I end up bouncing up above the water in a different place. Usually happily so.
But this was a dark heaviness. I felt like I could do no right. I failed CONSISTENTLY at everything I did.
I kept meeting with God in the mornings though--that remained in my life. Some days, I felt fine during those mornings.
And then by 7:30 am I was crying again in the closet.
Desperately wondering how I could get OUT of my life. How I could STOP being a parent to all of these children.
It was DARK.
But the truth and the calling remained: I am living what I have been created to do. WHY IS IT SO HARD THEN!?!?!?!?
And the truth is: God doesn't call us to what is easy for us. 
And I'm going to tell you something big now: (listen up)
PARENTING IS HARD HARD HARD WORK.
ADOPTIVE PARENTING IS EVEN HARDER WORK...for so many, many reasons. And parenting a smattering of children who both sprung from your loins and were grafted into your family provides an even different dimension.
But HARD does not equal NOT CALLED. 
HARD does not equal NOT GOING TO DO THIS.
HARD actually equals GOD HAS TO DO THIS THROUGH ME!!!
And that was my daily morning cry, "Help me to die to myself and YOU to live through me to parent this mess of children!"
But every single day I was reduced to tears EARLY in the morning and overcome by the weight of all their needs, all their tears, all their baggage (trauma), teenage hormones and then throw in some laundry, financial stressors, string of medical appointments and therapy, potty training and other "surprises" that regularly occur in life (like our home study agency stopping doing adoptions and we have to drop what we are doing and transfer and re-fingerprint and blah blah blah) and also my thyroid being off so I hadn't slept longer than 2-3 hour stretches in FOREVER...it all added up and was my perfect storm.
I did a lot of desperate texting to my dear husband and BFF. They carried me, prayed for me and supported me in this "overwhelming flood."
And again, I'd re-examine the situation and try try try to see WHY it was happening. 
But I just couldn't. Mainly because I could not see out in front of my face. The trees of the forest were just so RIGHT THERE. It's hard to see the whole forest when the bark is right in your face.
At one point my husband asked me if I had any idea what God was trying to teach me in all of this. I had no clue. Not even a hunch. I think I just growled at him, wordlessly.
But never did I feel like God abandoned me...but He did not say much. At all. 
For weeks.
And that was H-A-R-D.
One time last week I was sitting in the rocking chair holding a child on my lap, pulling her close to me so she wouldn't see my tears...wondering how we would be able to feed all of them next week... and He spoke!!
"Just feed her today."
And that's all He spoke to me through this hard time. "Just today."
But it was enough.
Scripture came back to my mind about only living today, for each day has enough trouble of its own. And that the ravens they don't plant, harvest or store food yet God feeds them...I'm going to be okay.
I reached out to a woman I greatly respect and long to be like one day. She told me a few things that really helped me in all of this. (Because truly, when it was dark, I could not see or sense that God was doing ANYTHING in me at all...all I felt was "overwhelming failure" and had no sense that there was a purpose in it at all...although my husband and BFF were telling me God was busy doing good things in me!)
This precious mentor reminded me how crazy passionate God is for me. "Even if you never do another thing for Him the rest of your life, He loves you. Period."
WOW.
That's amazing to me. ...And I think I have a problem. 
I cannot seem to un-think that if I do well in life, that I am more appealing to Him. That my well balanced life, organized family and all I work at doing is more attractive to Him than if I was lying around on the couch day after day eating bon-bons.
But that's not true. I cannot do ANYTHING to make God love me MORE.
And that's a statement about the INTENSITY of His love for me. 
He already loves me MORE.
God must be CRAZY SAUCE  for His people. He's GOT to be! Otherwise, how could He send His only Son down here, deny Him heaven and put the weight of all sin on Him and let Him bear all the punishment?!?!?!
That's crazy love. Crazy.
My mentor also told me something else. Something that has lead to a real epiphany for me.
She told me that if I want to later be remembered by my children as a loving, wonderful mommy...then I need to relax. A TON.
Oh dear.
That one hit hard. I don't relax well. I multitask well. I do intense well. In fact, I can't remember when I did not give something I'm excited about 110% of my energy.
Relax? "A ton?" Oh my.
And then I read some questions in a book our church is using called How People Change. The questions are actually called, "X-ray Questions" because they cut right through your fluff and get at the core.
One question stood out to me...mainly because my answer showed me that I was actually frustrated and striving for something preposterous.
Somehow I have gotten off. WAY OFF.
Somehow I went from using chore charts and organizing bins to the idea of being out for TOTAL PERFECTION.
I seriously was looking to produce: a spotless home...every corner tidied, every meal well balanced and prepared on time, cupboard stocked and organized, obedient children willing to serve others and ample finances to support the whole production. I was looking forward to the moment when EVERY SPACE in our home was organized, picked up and clean (oh the pet hair and dust bunnies!) and THEN I would simply maintain it.
So, you see that as I was working toward that idea above...and turned around to discover another mess (usually in an area that was just cleaned) or the same child repeat-offending an offense,  or running out of milk and toilets overflowing...I felt further set back from my goal: to when I'd have this all cleaned up and put together.
Oh, that elusive moment.
For some reason when my mentor told me that I was just going to have to relax...(she also told me to figure out what was MOST important and let everything else GO!) I was able to see what I was doing: striving for unattainable perfection and STRESSING about it when it did not go smoothly and forgetting that THIS IS A JOURNEY. 
And that it is NOT a journey toward the moment WHEN all things become perfect, but that they never will. However, this is not to frustrate or discourage, but to reshift my thinking.  I need to still do these things (parent, potty train, cook, clean, re-clean, teach math,  can tomatoes, drive to therapy, coach in drama practice, train hearts, etc.) but allow them to happen as they do...in the imperfectness of this world.
So, that means that when something goes wrong now (and they will keep going wrong) in my spirit I do not need to unleash the "oh well GREAT (roll eyes)" monster, but rather go with it as "okay, let's see what needs to happen now," patient mother who even actually smiles at her offending children.

This is in Esty's soon-to-be bedroom. Been cleaning it out and had left neat piles of books. Turned around 5 min later to see this. Oh yeah. Life is messy!

When I walk into a room and discover an enormous mess created by the three amigos, (THAT I JUST CLEANED) I do not need to allow sabotage to reach my heart. When I turn the corner to next room and discover the table has not yet been cleared by table-responsible son who is outside playing blissfully even though I reminded him after dinner---doesn't need to upset me. 
A journey. NOT to perfection, but to growing up. (Both kids and me.) A journey to train the children's hearts to love Jesus and follow Him amidst the messes we encounter in life. 
No perfection needed.
My kids are watching me. They see how I act when things don't go right. 
How do they learn to react? They watch me. They imitate me.
{Like it or not: they DO.}
I want to follow Jesus and encounter life's messes patiently and in faith. I want to model trusting in a God who IS ENOUGH...not panicking in the face of a problem.
I really can't say what brought the end of the time of sifting. Finances are still uber tight. Kids are still kids. Entropy still rules. Maybe my thyroid is finally regulating. (I'm beginning to sleep better, praise Him!) School has started and there are less people here all day. I'll probably never know why the darkness has lifted but I can begin to see again...but I do hope that what I've learned and processed is gonna STICK.
I shared some of this aloud with my dear friend wondering if I should blog it. She declared emphatically that YES! I should, that other people are probably trying to achieve perfection too.
So, for the sake of YOU, stressed out mama, I share this publicly. I hope that you will be encouraged and find hope for your own journey.



{During this season of intense sifting, I was encouraged time and time again through my readers that this blog has blessed and encouraged them. Even a family is in process to adopt some children I've advocated for here!!! These words have brought me great joy and a renewed sense of purpose amidst the dark time. Thank you, dear ones.}

Adjustment

Living with my littles is a delight.

Living with my littles is a challenge.

Living with my littles energizes me and makes me laugh.

Living with my littles drains me and makes me cry.

How can both of these extremes be true?

I don't know. I just know they are.

There are moments I am so overcome with the TASK and just keeping them out of trouble that I wonder, "What in the world am I doing with an extra child?"

There are moments that my heart is filled to the brim and overflows and I weep with joy as I kiss their peanut buttered faces.

Around comes another moment, often no more than a beat later, that tests my very sanity and pushes my patience to the extreme. Again.

Yet when it's all quiet, the sun has gone to bed and the tucking in has finished, I lie in my bed nearly passing out from exhaustion I think, "This is it! This is what my Jesus has called me to. Some days its fun! Most days it's nothing but work, but this is it!"

And a smile creeps over my face. 

I have laughed.

I have cried.

I have clapped my hands in sheer delight.

I have wrung those same hands in frustration.

This child you have added to our family, Lord...he is OURS. He is so incredibly special. He has his idiosyncrasies. They push my buttons on some days. On others I am filled with patience and compassion for those same annoyances.

And I step back from the moment and SEE.

He was once lost, alone, abandoned. Crying. Desperate. Hurting. Frightened. Dumbfounded.

Now he has a place. He belongs. He has a bed, warm clothes, shoes. He laughs, runs, asks to be tickled and sings to himself.

So often he catches his reflection in a mirror and proudly declares, "Zebby! I'm not in an orphanage anymore! I'm in a family!" (I've shared this a few times on Facebook when he says this, but he says it A LOT. It truly has made a huge impression on him! And me!)

God has done this good thing. He has rescued my child from a life of homelessness on the streets of Uganda. And brought him here--to a family. Our family. Around our table. Under our roof. Into our van.

And most importantly...

                                ...into our hearts.

He is every bit one of us now.

His adoption will be final this Friday.

I could not be MORE excited!!! A judge will sign the finalization order and I'll pick it up later that day. You might want to listen on Friday morning, because you'll probably hear the cries of joy emit from my heart!!!

Celebration!

Elation!

And...I wonder, will there be fear? Will I be able to mother this child through all his ups and downs? His short life has seen SUCH TRAGEDY. I am no mender of hearts...but God is here and He does that. But will I be able to help him be mended by our Jesus? Will my own shortcomings get in the way?

I do not permit these questions room to dwell. I do not need to be in those future moments. I am called to today, to be faithful with the now.

And right now, we are feeling like family.

We are adjusting.

Thank you, Lord!

My Children...on Thrones??

I have finished another read through of the Bible. When I got to Revelation 20, something NEW stood out to me. (I love that about Scripture--always having God show me new things!)

"Then I saw thrones, and the people sitting on them had been given authority to judge. And I saw the souls of those who had been beheaded for their testimony about Jesus, for proclaiming the Word of God. And I saw the souls of those who had not worshiped the beast or his statue, nor accepted his mark on their forehead or their hands. They came to life again and reigned with Christ for a thousand years..." Revelation 20:4

Perhaps it was in combination with something I heard that this verse made it's impact. In a podcast sermon by Tommy Nelson this has been stuck in my head, "This [young] generation will have to know the Word of God like they did in the first century to live a righteous life in today's culture."

Source: worthpoint.com

I suddenly realized that the people sitting on the thrones were there because they had stood up to all the evil in the final days. They were strong. They were in fact beheaded for their testimony about Jesus and their incredible commitment to preach the Truth of God's Word.

Then it hit me:

Those people on those thrones COULD be my very own children.

I don't know the timing of Revelation. Neither do you.

How are those people who end up in the final days learn that passionate, stand-by-my-Jesus faith? For certain they do not just half heartedly choose to be beheaded!! And the second group of souls that John saw...they were ones who had not worshiped the beast or his statue and refused the mark of the beast. That means they too stood up to culture, pressure and the call to survive and counted their faith in Christ as more valuable than life.

Then I wondered, would my very own Jensi, Anneli, Oliver, Zareb and Darrah Kate be ready to stand up to that kind of pressure?   Would they stay faithful in the final days??

I was suddenly feeling very nervous. Very fidgety. A flutter in my heart.

This. is. on. me. ON ME!

I am the one who is with them, raising them, hoping to cultivate hearts that love the Lord and care about others. I am the one who seeks to teach them how to respond to people who attack, curse, challenge and lie about you. I am the one who demonstrates mercy, grace and compassion to the underdog. I am the one who must help them navigate through this culture, loving the people in the world but not being of it. I am the one showing them how to live a life of faith.

Gulp.

I am the one who must answer their questions lovingly and direct them towards God's Word. I am the one who must sort out their troubles and show them to learn from them and how they can handle them better next time.

Suddenly the responsibility of raising godly children in a depraved generation never seemed more challenging. And the call to do so for such a future as we (or our descendants) will have seems all the more weighty.

This morning, I began reading in Isaiah. The first verse inspired me to do a bit of a research: "These visions concerning Judah and Jerusalem came to Isaiah son of Amoz during the reigns of Uzziah, Jotham, Ahaz and Hezekiah--all kings of Judah." Isaiah 1:1

"Who were these kings?" I wondered. I dug back into 2 Kings and found out. I began to make some notes about each king. Turns out, these are 4 generations written out in a row.  Uzziah (I think of him as famous from the Isaiah 6 verses about "send me!") is Great-granddaddy, Jotham is Granddaddy, Ahaz is Bad Daddy and Hezekiah is the son.

Turns out that 3 out of 4 of these kings were called "good." But something interesting emerged: each had NOT torn down the pagan shrines. Hmmm. I decided to go backward in time and see if THEIR fathers had a similar pattern.

O. my. word.

Here's what I found:

Joash began this whole "incomplete obedience" thing. He got the throne at age 7. (Yikes!) He was trained by a priest. Apparently the priest didn't mention that "other" thing about the shrines, or he just didn't press little Joash to boldly pull them down. (There are to be no other gods before the True God and those pagan shrines were a tad bit of a problem.)

Amaziah is Joash's son. He takes the throne at age 25. He has a father to train him how to be a king. Here's what the Scripture says about him, "Amaziah did what was pleasing in the Lord's sight, but not like his ancestor David. Instead he followed the example of his father, Joash. Amaziah did NOT destroy the pagan shrines, where the people offered sacrifices and burnt incense." (2 Kings 14:3-4) Hmmm.

Well, along comes Uzziah. He's Amaziah's son. He gets the throne at age 16 and guess what? He was good, but didn't destroy those pagan shrines. By now, they were part of the landscape. He probably didn't even notice them as standing out. And this is our "great grand daddy" that I mentioned. Is it any wonder how the rest of this plays out?

Jotham gets the throne at 25 and yep, you guessed it, he is good like his father BUT he doesn't take down those treacherous pagan shrines either.

Does anyone? Look around...guess not. It must just be cultural. It's okay, everybody's doing it. Sound familiar?

Well, guess what? Jotham's son is a man named Ahaz. He is wearing the crown at age 20. And all those years of incomplete obedience apparently have come to a head. This king goes whole hog in the OTHER direction. He not only doesn't destroy those pagan shrines, he sacrifices one of his own children. (In addition to a whole list of other evil things!)

Alarming??? Yes? Scares me too!

Now delightfully, after the rotten king that Ahaz was to Judah, his own son Hezekiah turned completely to the Lord. Was it the total disgust of having a brother burned at the stake to a false god that woke him up? Hezekiah's life was one that pleased the Lord and Scripture says that "there was never another king like him in land of Judah, either before or after his time." Oh the things to study on this king's life!!!

So back to the thrones and thinking about my children. If the legacy of incomplete obedience (which we could go out on a limb here and call DISobedience) began long ago in the lineage of these kings...and the subsequent generations never once looked to see if MAYBE they should destroy those shrines...I just wonder...

What are the pagan shrines today? What are we as parents who desire to raise up a godly generation tolerating as part of the "landscape" that might end up hurting our children, grandchildren or great grandchildren? Or beyond?

Will YOUR children be sitting on those thrones? I surely want to be parenting in such a way that they are READY to be sitting on them.

And *GULP* that means I have a lot of personal examination to do along the way!!!

Oh God, help me raise them righteously!!!

The Grateful Project

I have an idea.

Being that we JUST talked in our 5th/6th grade Sunday School class about traditions that we do outwardly but do not truly do on the heart level. We talked about celebrating Thanksgiving and how easy it is to be more about the football, playing with cousins and eating pie than on truly being thankful.

So I decided to do a personal grateful challenge.

I am going to post on Facebook each day something I am truly, heart-level grateful for. I may or may not post a picture. (I am not going to hem myself into that...life is simply TOO overwhelming for that!)

But for today, there are pictures.

I am starting off November begin grateful for a tree. It is a particular tree. It is also the ONLY tree left in our entire yard at this moment!! But it is outside my kitchen window so when I prepare food, clean up or make my Shakeology, I see it.


And this year it is exceedingly beautiful! Red-tipped leaves at the ends of some of the branches that have otherwise all turned yellow. Now I'm sure that my scientific husband could give me the reasons it has done that, but I don't care really. I just so deeply delight in its beauty each day!

And then with the sunlight, OH!

The glory of the Lord is being shown all around us!  I am making an intentional effort to be grateful for the abundance of love and goodness God has placed in my life.

And look at these other beautiful sights I took in while I went outside to photograph my tree!

Awesome aren't they?

I have also decided to help my children in being grateful this month. What is this? This is the trunk of THEIR grateful tree! Each night at dinner I am going to have them trace their hands, cut them out (yes, I will of course help the littles!) and write out one thing each day they are thankful for. Imagine this tree in 30 days x 5 hands! It will be ABUNDANT with praise! Awesome!



How will you show you are grateful this month?

Life in the unexpected

Life comes at you hard sometimes...blowing all your plans out of the water. That was the story this week. We had planned to celebrate our 15th wedding anniversary as well as Zareb's first birthday with us (birthday number 3) and his adoption with family and friends, but all of that is getting shelved for the sake of sick children.

And they are everywhere around here.

Not anything unusual in a relatively large family, but exhausting none the less.

Donning hospital duds!

It began with Oliver. Pass over to Darrah Kate...whose body took it and turned it into croup that left her desperate for air.

Thus the afternoon trip to the ER for an emergency breathing treatment. This worked well last year when this happened, and we expected to be home in a matter of hours. Sadly, her case of croup this year was far more severe and we ended up staying in the hospital longer.

Longer as in 3 DAYS.

Ugh.

Not exactly on the plans for the week!

It occurred to me after she was getting better to grab some pics and video to share...so she really appears quite pleasant and not-so-desperate as you might envision. Trust me, she needed to be there. But that little buoyant personality shines through no matter what the circumstances! :)

Eating like a toddler queen--when she finally got her appetite back!

One of 14 breathing treatments...

Transportation around the floor...perfect for lulling to sleep!

And because she's so incredibly adorable (we think so!) I leave you with a video shot on day two...

We are so incredibly thankful for good healthcare and insurance that makes these days a little less stressful than they might otherwise be.

Now to get the intestinal bug out of the other children...

Pass the bucket.

O the things he says...and says and says!

As with all of my children, I love to write down the cute things they say. I keep little books of them and we love to go back and read them and laugh our silly heads off.

With Zareb, it's really no different. Well, maybe a little bit. The things he says, he often repeats them 5-20 times in a row. I was a little unsure if this was simply deepening his grasp on the English language (he is bilingual--for now) or what was going on. Sure enough, I learned that his repeating phrases that require my affirmation or answer over and over again is a way of connecting with me. It is a common thing among children with traumatic pasts or children who have lived in orphanages.

I am learning to be patient.

I am learning to smile and softly answer, "Yes, mommy is sitting down," for the 20th time in a row.

I am learning that it is his way of connecting deeper with me. Seeing me as his primary caregiver. (Remember, in an orphanage of 50 children, there are only hired workers and volunteers (God bless them ALL!) and they are only present in his life for certain hours before another set of people come in and take over.)

He often will tell me the obvious. But he forms it as a question.

"Are you buckling me in?" 


"Yes, I am buckling you in."


"Are you buckling me in?"


"Yes, I am buckling you in."

X 20!

Now, there are times when his phrase will stop my heart in it's tracks.

Like this one, spoken at random times (when he's full of love?):

"No mo offanage!" (that's "No more orphanage" if you don't speak Zareb!)

You hear that repeated about 20 times and you start to remember what all this hard work is for...and you smile and cherish that sweet little one.

Another common thing he does is repeat things he hears me say (yikes, right?!). One he's latched on to is:

"Mommy, I so pwoud of you!" (proud)

He'll pull that one out of thin air and at times where I am at my wit's end. I truly hear the voice of God speak to me through his little high pitched Ugandan accent.  I hear God say, "You are doing exactly what I called you to do. Hang in there. This is serving Me."

Today as I was snuggling him and kissing his toes I said something I don't usually. I said,

"I love your feet-sies." (Okay, it was weird.)

You know what i heard back?

"Oh Mommy, I love your feces!" Complete with looks of great love and waiting for me to affirm him!

Um..."Mommy loves your FEET, Zareb! Your feet!"

"Yes! I love your feces, Mommy!"

x 20!


...and one just has to laugh! We got one for the books! :)