We shared our adoption story (in short) with our church on Orphan Sunday, Well, since this post is all about honesty, I should say, Justin shared and I stood by. I had the easy part. Afterwards, we welcomed questions from anyone interested in fostering or adopting. One of the women who chatted with me, let’s call her Kaylee to protect her privacy, is an adoptee and was exploring this option of adoption for herself and her husband.
We talked, she asked questions, I had some answers, and I shared more of our story. She went away from that conversation thinking something very different than what I expected. She hadn’t decided to move in any direction of adoption, nor had she closed the door, but she was overwhelmed with emotion as she realized what her adoptive mother had given her and gone through for her. Before we talked she had a deep and profound respect for her mom, but when we finished there was something more that she had come to comprehend; it hadn’t been easy for her mom.
Why hadn’t it been easy for her adoptive mom? Because her mother is very sensitive. I can relate, because I am extremely sensitive. Every day it’s hard for me to be in relationships with others, every day it’s hard to put myself out here on a blog, every day confronts me with pain. Then why did I do that foster and adoption thing that was so hard and seems impossible for the sensitive like me?
As Kaylee and I talked, she mentioned what we do. She said, “It’s not that it’s great that someone else is doing this (something Justin mentioned during his memoir spiel), but it’s WOW, that’s amazing. I’m not putting you on a pedestal, but what you’ve done is admirable.”
I’m not like some other adoptive parents who dislike hearing this, but I did want to tell her my truth. My truth is that I am flawed, deeply. My truth is that I am extremely sensitive. So, you would think I’d have avoided foster care and adoption like the plague.
But no, I had jumped on that plane headed to China immediately, well figuratively, but I wanted to hide in the baggage compartment when it came to foster care. Why? Because it looked hard, it looked impossible for the sensitive; me. When husband brought up the option of fostering while we waited to begin the process for China (I wasn’t old enough to apply), I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t want to jump in and get my feet muddy. I didn’t think it would change me, I didn’t think I could handle all it involved.
Was I wrong? An emphatic YES! Because when we really ponder what brings out a better us, what teaches us compassion, what changes us from the inside out, it isn’t the easy, it’s the HARD. If we think of world changers, I would bet their lives haven’t been cushy. I bet something happened to them, something moved them, or else they are consistently placing themselves in the middle of HARD.
I don’t mean that I have come out at this end (because my life is still being transformed by special needs) an awesome person. What I mean is that before I began this journey, I thought I knew about God, love, and faith. I hadn’t arrived, but I thought I was getting a handle on it. I didn’t. That handle I was grasping fairly burned up in my hand and I dropped it. I have found that I didn’t know much about God’s power, loves abilities, and faith’s transformation. It has all come crashing in on me, in a good way. I look at life in a new way. I see people in a new way, or I am still working on it anyway.
People don’t want HARD. But what if I told you HARD will be the best thing you’ve ever done? I love this quote by Brene Brown, “When we spend our lives waiting until we’re perfect or bulletproof before we walk into the arena, we ultimately sacrifice relationships and opportunities that may not be recoverable, we squander our precious time, and we turn our backs on our gifts, those unique contributions that only we can make. “Perfect” and “bulletproof” are seductive, but they don’t exist in the human experience. We must walk into the arena, whatever it may be–a new relationship, an important meeting, our creative process, or a difficult conversation–with courage and the willingness to engage. Rather than sitting on the sidelines and hurling judgment and advice, we must dare to show up and let ourselves be seen. This is vulnerability. This is daring greatly.”
I want to go back to my sensitivities. My heart is fragile, just ask my poor husband, he could write a series of books on it. Yet, I have seen how God has put an armor around my heart, not so I can’t pour out love, but so that some of the hurt my children can cause doesn’t make it through. What have I been through with them that could have hurt me beyond repair? Well, my son and daughter both bonded with my husband long before they did with me. Consider my daughters diagnoses and my son’s Autism. We also went through fostering them. My heart could have been pounded into the floor, but it wasn’t. Yes, I’ve been hurt, and yes it’s been hard, but it hasn’t had nearly the effect someone who knew me before all of this would have imagined.
When Kaylee shared about her adoptive mom, she told me how sensitive she is. Kaylee said, “I never told my mom, ‘You’re not my real mom!’ I think that was God’s way of protecting her, He kept me from making such hurtful remarks.” I believe she’s right. There can be so much about this journey that’s hard, but God is God, and when we trust and believe He will help us, He will. We are not on this journey alone
After writing the rough draft of this post, I read the November 2013 issue of Adoption Today, in it Lisa Harper wrote, “If we didn’t have dark nights, we couldn’t experience the peachy glow of sunrise. If we didn’t ache, we couldn’t experience relief. If we didn’t suffer brokenness, we couldn’t experience restoration.” She’s right, and she should know because catastrophe struck her three times in one day. Now that’s living through HARD and still having the courage to move forward.
Has something in your life been HARD and changed you? I would love for you to share.